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A man hell-bent on revenge for the death of his friend in battle!
Seeking revenge for the death of a friend ten long years ago, Major Jake Nanden has pursued his own personal demons with an almost religious fervour through life and through battle.
He is a soldier so highly decorated for bravery that his fame reaches far beyond the desolate Jupiter moon, Io, where his battalion is stationed. His victories in the Jupiter Wars are hollow though, for he is a man scared of his own soul.
His life seems to be a trap from which he cannot escape. His is the Replicant Company, and replicants, or clones, are despised by all.
Likened to a cross between Blade Runner and Paths of Glory, you simply must read this beautifully constructed, intensely dark and powerful Science Fiction thriller with a twist, if you love Phillip K. Dick and Isaac Asimov.
It’s been over ten years since Gary Enquine sent my friend Przeltski to a certain death. Not one day has gone by without the memories of that battle prowling my mind like a waking nightmare. Many times I have woken in a cold-sweat thinking about it. I will not rest, cannot rest, until Gary Enquine has been brought to justice and been forced to pay for his cowardice. Ten years; it’s a long time but I can be patient. Personal journal entry of Jake Nanden for 2101, Feb 3. 1.
Chapter One The little voice asked, after peering out of another portal at an earlier moment in his life, “Is it possible to time travel for I perceive that I can?”
“Only after you leave this life,” said a voice, high and mighty.
Then the little voice changed its tone for it was angry. “But that’s not fair! For, the one thing I wish I can’t have.”
“Until you leave this life,” said the high voice.
“Then now you can see advantages to moving beyond this life you have.”
And the little voice perceived that all his previous angers, about matters of the flesh and daily living were not proper angers. A proper anger is the anger that desirable things lay beyond the portal of death. And so from that moment on his struggles to survive, to fight against the current, seemed improper to him and yet he could not help himself.
Two of the Ionian Militia sat on top of Przeltski, ripping his helmet off, while another aimed his laser at his eyes. In the vacuum of Io’s atmosphere, Przeltski was mouthing the words, ‘save me’ but it was too late. I knew I couldn’t and had to try and save myself. I was turning to get away but I could still see his eyes half closing, then looking up and his mouth rapidly shaping the words of the ‘Hail Mary.’ The IM would turn their lasers down to the lowest setting and first shoot out the eyes, then take off the arms and if he was lucky then they would aim for his heart. If he was not lucky, the dismemberment could go on and on for as long as they wanted. I wanted to look away but I couldn’t.