Domes now cover Earth's big cities and soon a force field will trap Earth inside!
The jackal-headed Ischians are here! When General Jake Nanden retired from the USAC, he could never have guessed that his greatest battle was still to come.
Since then, he has joined a spiritual cult called the Blue Path, trying to establish communication with a few peaceful Ischians.
But now his world has been torn apart; his wife and youngest son have been killed, probably his eldest too and the Los Angeles and Washington citizens sweat it out under inescapable alien domes.
His son, Stone, warned him of the invasion and he joined up with Gary Enquine to form a rudimentary resistance network.
Now, they must find a way to rise up and defeat the conquerors of Earth! Nanden must escape and unite the remaining human and clone forces, scattered across the Solar System.
But time is running out! Soon, a necklace of giant starships will encircle the Earth and enclose it within a giant, inescapable force field.
This tense, all-action sci-fi thriller never lets you pause for breath and the action could be compared with Starship Troopers or Star Wars.
But it's not just superficial action, there is the deeper thread of Jake Nanden's own journey as a reconstructed replicant or clone and the struggle of the last humans in a world increasingly controlled by replicants.
An intensely and beautiful Science Fiction with a twist, if you love Phillip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov or Arthur C Clarke and Stephen Baxter, you will like this.
Categories: fiction, science fiction, alien, thriller, first contact, clones, starship, genes, invasion.
Genre: FICTION / Science Fiction / MilitaryThis book is alwasy popular, being the climax of the series!
They were sitting ducks for the fast-firing LC5150 Bullpups of the USAC grunts.
Nevertheless, the alien suits were almost impervious to the USAC laser-fire.
“Get in close kid,” yelled a grunt in the third line to a white-faces newbie next to him. “Aim at their throats.”
But the kid didn’t have time to thank him.
“Next line!” yelled a Sergeant, wielding an X.77.
The front rank had all fallen and only one, kneeling man remained from the six men, who shuffled forward to take their place.
The young kid and his companion were now facing the three remaining Ischians, who were also kneeling.
White pin-thin streaks of alien laser fire cut the air like knives, criss-crossed by USAC red streaks. The corridor flashed like a slaughter-house disco.
The white-faced kid didn’t even have time to squeeze the trigger of his rebuilt X.77 before he smelled his own flesh. Looking down, he saw a large slice of his belly missing. The hole, from which his guts had started to flop, steamed. White paste spurted from capillaries in the suit, as the out-of-date kit malfunctioned and attempted to seal the tear against a vacuum which didn’t exist. His mind had already gone blank with terror but then a white line of light pierced his helmet and cut his life improbably short.
Medics ran to the last three grunts still writhing on the floor. The Ischians were just body-parts, torn into chunks of steaming flesh by the grunts’ last assault.
“Help!” murmured one of the grunts on the deck. His arm had been severed from his body. Blood spurted from his main artery like a fountain. The other two were in too much pain to do more than hiss and swear.
A smoke-detector in the roof of the corridor blared an accompaniment to the wounded’s groans.
