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460 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
Miggea's was no ordinary desert. It was all that remained of
a world destroyed by Law. Barren. No hawks soared in the pale
blue sky. Not an insect. Not a reptile. No water. No lichen. No
plants of any kind. Just tall spikes of crystallized ash and
limestone, crumbling and turned into crazy shapes by the wind,
like so many grotesque gravestones.
They are the worst kind of self-deceiving cowards and
everything they build is a ramshackle sham. They have the taste
of the worst Hollywood producers and the egos of the worst
Hollywood actors. We have come to an ironic moment in history, I
think, when actors and entertainers determine the fate of the
real world.