The Ferryman

Justin Cronin The Ferryman ISBN: 9780525619482, 9780525619475 Kindle / ASIN: B0B8GZ58DK Genre: Science Fiction Goodreads Rating: Hardcover, 538 pages Published: 2023 From the New York Times bestselling author of The Passage comes a riveting standalone novel about a group of survivors on a hidden island utopia--where the truth isn't what it seems. Founded by a mysterious genius, the archipelago of Prospera lies hidden from the horrors of a deteriorating outside world. In this island paradise, Prospera's lucky citizens enjoy long, fulfilling lives until the monitors embedded in their forearms, meant to measure their physical health and psychological well-being, fall below 10 percent. Then they retire themselves, embarking on a ferry ride to the island known as the Nursery, where their failing bodies are renewed, their memories are wiped clean, and they are readied to restart life afresh. Proctor Bennett, of the Department of Social Contracts, has a satisfying career as a ferryman, gently shepherding people through the retirement process--and, when necessary, enforcing it. But all is not well with Proctor. For one thing, he's been dreaming--which is supposed to be impossible in Prospera. For another, his monitor percentage has begun to drop alarmingly fast. And then comes the day he is summoned to retire his own father, who gives him a disturbing and cryptic message before being wrestled onto the ferry. Meanwhile, something is stirring. The Support Staff, ordinary men and women who provide the labor to keep Prospera running, have begun to question their place in the social order. Unrest is building, and there are rumors spreading of a resistance group--known as "Arrivalists"--who may be fomenting revolution. Soon Proctor finds himself questioning everything he once believed, entangled with a much bigger cause than he realized--and on a desperate mission to uncover the truth. “Next to impossible to put down . . . exciting, mysterious, and totally satisfying.”— Stephen King 2023 - ePub verification and revisions by zardox The Ferryman is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2023 by Justin Cronin All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. Ballantine is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Cronin, Justin, author. Title: The ferryman: a novel / Justin Cronin. Description: First edition. | New York, NY: Ballantine Books, [2023] Identifiers: LCCN 2022020852 (print) | LCCN 2022020853 (ebook) | ISBN 9780525619475 (hardback; acid-free paper) | ISBN 9780525619482 (ebook) Subjects: LCGFT: Novels. Classification: LCC PS3553.R542 F47 2023 (print) | LCC PS3553.R542 (ebook) | DDC 813/.54—dc23/eng/20220502 LC record available at lccn.loc.gov/​2022020852 LC ebook record available at lccn.loc.gov/​2022020853 International ISBN 9780593722640 Ebook ISBN 9780525619482 randomhousebooks.com Book design by Elizabeth A. D. Eno, adapted for ebook Cover design: Scott Biel Cover image: David Baileys/Getty Images ep_prh_6.1_143319816_c0_r0 For the families Contents Cover Epigraph Prologue Part I: The Last Beautiful Day Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Part II: The Storm Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Part III: The Lost Girl Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Part IV: The Nursery Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Part V: The Annex Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Part VI: The Antechamber Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Part VII: The Man Who Broke the Sky Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Part VIII: The Departed Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Epilogue: The Faces in the Stars Acknowledgments About the Author By Justin Cronin _143319816_ He pass’d the flaming bounds of Place and Time: The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble, while they gaze, He saw; but, blasted with excess of light, Clos’d his eyes in endless night. —Thomas Gray, “The Progress of Poesy” PROLOGUE Dawn is breaking when she creeps from the house. The air is cool and fresh; birds are singing in the trees. Everywhere, the sound of the sea, the world’s great metronome, beating beneath a velvety sky of diminishing stars. In her pale nightdress, she moves through the garden. Her pace is not hesitant, merely unhurried, almost fond. How like a ghost she must look, this solitary figure floating among the flower beds, the burbling fountains, the hedges trimmed with creases sharp enough to draw blood. Behind her, the house is dark as a monolith, though soon its seaward-facing windows will swell with light. It is not an easy thing, to leave a life, a home. The details dig trenches within one—scents, sounds, associations, rhythms. The creaking floorboard in the upstairs hall. The smell that greets one in the entryway at the end of a day. The light switch that meets the hand without thought in a darkened room. She could have stepped safely among the furniture wearing a blindfold. Twenty years. She would have twenty more if she could. It was after dinner that she’d told Malcolm the news. A fine meal, one he loved: broiled lamb chops, risotto with cheese, asparagus grilled in a film of oil; good wine. Coffee and small crème pastries for dessert. They had decided to eat outside; it was such a beautiful night. A riot of flowers on the table, the tick-tock of the sea, candlelight glazing their faces. You will not know when it happens, she told him. I will simply be gone. Powerless, she watched him as he absorbed the blow, his face in his hands. So soon? Does it have to be now? Come to bed with me, she commanded—her body would say to him the things that words could not—and after, she held him as he wept. The dark hours passed. At last the lassitude