ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The tough part about writing a sequel is that while the author and the characters remember every last detail about the previous book, readers who are new to the series do not. Just after I finished my first draft of this book, a friend named Dustin Johnson asked for a peek. As it turned out, his wife, Rachel, got to the book first and did me the greatest kindness a reader can do. She complained. (That greatest favor bit applies to pre-print. Once the book is out, insecure authors like myself prefer to be lavished with praise.)
Rachel had not read the first book in this series, and what she found was that while I and my characters knew the difference between the Republic, the Mogats, and the Confederate Arms, she did not. She wanted to like the story, but she could not tell which characters were fighting for which organizations.
Thank you, Rachel. Thank you, Dustin. Thank you, Andrew Perry, who I went to after Rachel. Andrew agreed with Rachel and my sizzling James Bond-style introduction was replaced with something a lot more expository.
I want to thank Mark Adams and my mother and father, readers to whom I resort for advice whenever I finish my first drafts. I want to thank Richard and Michael at Richard Curtis Associates for helping this book come about; and I especially wish to thank Anne Sowards and the crew at Ace for cleaning up after my many messes.
The cover of this book was created by Christian McGrath. Its not often that a writer wants people to judge his book by its cover, but with Christian doing the art, I dont mind.
EPILOGUE
This is a short-range transport. It isnt made for long trips, I told Ray as he sealed the rear of the kettle. Its going to take us a month just to reach the broadcast station if we reach it at all.
Even if we get there, this will probably be a one-way trip. You dont really think we can make it work.
Death in space or the rest of my life stuck here on Delphi, Freeman said. Ill take my chances. Less than one month had passed since our battle with the Grant, and he was already going stir-crazy. Dying out in space might have been easier for him.
His plan was a shade shy of suicide. He wanted to fly this navy transport out to the broadcast station. I had never seen a kettle fly for more than a day, and we would be out for a full month. If we made it to the broadcast discs, Freeman hoped to strip the sending gear out of them and adapt it for this ship.
The shuttles engine produced the energy for it. It generated joules and joules of energy for its shields. But this shuttle wasnt designed for the stresses of self-broadcasting. It did not even have tint shields. Even if we made it to the discs and somehow Ray adapted the broadcast equipment to work, it could all go wrong. I had first-hand knowledge about what happens when broadcasts go wrong.
Even if this works, well be lucky to get one flight with this, I said.
Im willing to risk it, Freeman answered. So was I, if it meant I could get back in the war.
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CHAPTER ONE
Earthdate: March 1, 2512 A.D.
City: Safe Harbor; Planet: New Columbia; Galactic
Position: Orion Arm
You look like a... The boy got a stunned look on his face and stopped without finishing the sentence. He was about to tell me that I looked like a clone and changed his mind. Clever boy. Finishing that thought would either end in disaster or embarrassment. If I were a regular clone, hearing this might trigger a death reflex that released a flood of fatal hormones into my brain, killing me instantly. A more likely outcome might be my not knowing what he was talking about. I would laugh at him or possibly threaten him.
Few clones knew they were clones. Government-issue military clones had brown hair and brown eyes, but the neural programming synapse in their brains made them see themselves as having blond hair and blue eyes. It was the governments way of preventing an uprising from within the warrior class.
I look a lot like an Army clone? I asked, trying to sound relaxed and conversational. I hear that a lot.
The boy might have been in his twenties. His shoulder-length orange-red hair was stringy and lank. Large red pimples formed a constellation across his forehead. I was twenty-two, but I had seen death and battle and betrayal. Walking among the general civilian population, I considered most males under the age of thirty to be boys. The few who did not strike me as morons were thugs, like the one I had come here to meet.
The boy looked stunned. He was neither a policeman nor a guard, just an usher in a movie house. His mouth hung open as he pondered my answer, and his eyes showed a mixture of confusion and fear.
Im a lot like them, I said as if confiding a family secret. The Pentagon used my grandfathers DNA to make those clones.
No shit, the boy said. A smile formed on his face. Of the six arms of the Milky Way galaxy, four had recently declared independence from the Unified Authoritythe Earth government. The Orion Arm, Earths home arm, remained loyal to the Republic; but this planetNew Columbiawas suspect. The New Columbian government swore allegiance to the Unified Authority, but its government was filled with politicians who openly sympathized with the Confederate Arms.
Yeah, I said. You might say half the Army and I are cousins. For the record, Army clones are about four inches shorter than me and a lot wider around the shoulders.
Yeah, said the boy, and he laughed nervously. I knew something was different.
There were a couple hundred thousand military clones assigned to New Columbia, but they seldom strayed far from their bases. The U.A. government had to tread lightly because of the planets skewed neutrality.
The boy looked at my ticket. Oh, wow, youre going to The Battle for Little Man. Lots of clones in that flick. He smiled at me. Third holotorium on the right.
The hall was wide and bright with 3-D lenticular posters from upcoming movies on the walls. It was early in the afternoon on a weekday, and I had most of the theater to myself. The only people ahead of me were a young couple on a datean uptight boy holding hands with a fresh-faced girl. The boy must have wanted to get to his movie. He walked quickly, his girlfriend in tow. The girl floated along lazily and paused to study each movie poster they passed.
