Sten had fought his way up from slave labor on a
factory world to commander of the Eternal Emperor’s bodyguard, the Imperial
Gurkhas. But during his first three months on Prime World, the most dangerous
weapons Sten had encountered were the well-phrased lies of Court politicians.
It seemed no place for an honest fighting man. But when a bomb destroys a local
bar, Sten discovers the danger and corruption behind Court intrigue. Only quick
work by Sten, Alex Kilgour, and a tough female detective can keep the Empire
together and the Emperor alive.
*****
*****
STEN #3
By Allan Cole
& Chris Bunch
CHAPTER ONE
THE BANTH PURRED at the quillpig, which, unimpressed, had firmly
stuffed itself as far as it could into the hollow stump.
The banth's instinct said that the porcupine was edible, but the
six-legged cat's training told it otherwise. Meat was presented by two-legs at
dawn and dusk, and came with gentle words. The quillpig may have smelled right,
but it was not behaving like meat. The banth sat back on its haunches and used
a forepaw to pry two needles from its nasal carapace.
Then the animal flattened. It heard the noise again, a whine from
the forest. The banth looked worriedly up the mountain, then back again in the
direction of the sound before deciding.
Against instinct, it broke out of the last fringe of the tree line
and bounded up the bare, rock-strewn mountain. Two hundred meters vertically up
the talus cliff, it went to cover behind a mass of boulders.
The whine grew louder as a gravsled lifted over the scrubby
treetops, pirouetted, searching, and then grounded near the hollow stump.
Terence Kreuger, chief of Prime World's police tactical force,
checked the homing panel mounted over the gravsled's controls. The needle
pointed straight up the mountain, and the proximity director indicated the
banth was barely half a kilometer away.
Kreuger unslung a projectile weapon from its clips behind his seat
and checked it once again: projectile chambered; safe off; ranging scope preset
for one meter, the approximate dimensions of the banth's chest area.
He checked the slope with a pair of binocs and after a few seconds
saw a flicker of movement. Kreuger grunted to himself and lifted the gravsled
up the mountain. He'd already missed the banth once that day; he was less than
pleased with himself.
Kreuger fancied himself a hunter in the grand tradition. Time not
required for his police duties was spent hunting or preparing himself for a
hunt, an expensive hobby, especially on Prime World. The Imperial capital had
no native game, and both hunting preserves there charged far more than even a
tactical group chief could afford — until recently.
Kreuger's previous hunts had been restricted to off-world, and
mostly for minor edible or nuisance game. That was well and good, but provided
Kreuger with little in the way of trophies, especially trophies of the kind
that the gamebooks chronicled. But things had suddenly become different. His
friends had seen to that. After thirty years as a cop, Kreuger still prized his
honesty. He just rationalized that what his new friends wanted wasn't
dishonest: look at the benefits! Three weeks away from Empire Day madness.
Three weeks on a hunting reservation, expenses paid. Tags for four dangerous
animals — an Earth rhino, a banth, a male cervi, and a giant otter.
He had already planned on which wall each head would be mounted.
Of course, Kreuger did not intend to mention to his soon-to-be-admiring friends where those trophies had been taken.
The gravsled's bumper caromed him away from a boulder, bringing
Kreuger back to the present. Concentrate, man, concentrate. Remember every bit
of this day. The clearness of the air. The smell of the trees below. The spray
of dust around the gravsled.
Kreuger guided the gravsled up the slope, following the homing
needle toward the sensor implanted in the banth.
Below, a second, one-man sled coasted through the trees. Clyff
Tarpy did not need binocs to follow Kreuger's sled. Contour-following, he
lifted his sled after Kreuger.
The banth was cornered.
Ahead of him to the right, the ground fell away steeply, too
steeply for even his clawed legs to descend. To the left was a sheer cliff. The
banth huddled behind a boulder, puzzling.
Kreuger's gravsled landed just outside the nest. Weapon ready,
Kreuger moved forward.
Again, the banth was perplexed. The whine had been the cause of a
loud explosion and searing pain earlier, the pain that sent the banth fleeing
through the forest toward the mountains.
But the smell was two-legs. Two-legs, but not familiar. Had the
banth done something wrong? The two-legs would tell him, feed him, and then
return him to the warmth of his pen.
The banth stood and walked forward.
Kreuger's projectile weapon came up as the banth walked into view.
No errors now. Safety off, he aimed.
The banth mewed. This was not his two-legs.
"Bastard!"
Kreuger spun, the banth momentarily forgotten. He had not heard
the second gravsled land behind him.
From five meters, the barrel of the weapon was enormous. Tarpy
allowed just enough time to pass for terror to replace the bewilderment on
Kreuger's face. And then he fingered the stud. The soft metal round expanded
nicely as it penetrated Kreuger's sternum, then pin wheeled through the tac chief's
rib cage into his heart. Kreuger, instantly dead, sat down on a small boulder
before slowly toppling forward onto his face.
Tarpy smiled as he took a thick chunk of soyasteak from his
beltpak and tossed it to the banth. "Eight lives to go, pussycat."
Tarpy took a small aerosol can from his pak, and, backing up,
erased his footsteps from the dusty rock. He paused by Kreuger's gravsled long
enough to shut the power off and disconnect the beacon. The longer it took to
find the body, the better. Tarpy mounted his own sled and nudged it back down
the hill.
The banth's tail whipped back and forth once. He did not like the
smell from the strange two-legs. He picked up the slab of soyasteak, sprang
over the rock wall, and went back down the mountain. He would eat on the ground
he was familiar with, and then perhaps unravel the puzzle of the other
soyasteak, the one with needles that walked.
NEXT: STEN #4: FLEET OF THE DAMNED
*****
ALL THREE STEN OMNIBUS EDITIONS NOW ON TAP
The entire 8-novel landmark science fiction series is now being presented in three three giant omnibus editions from Orbit Books. The First - BATTLECRY - features the first three books in the series: Sten #1; Sten #2 -The Wolf Worlds; and Sten #3, The Court Of A Thousand Suns. Next: JUGGERNAUT, which features Sten #4, Fleet Of The Damned; Sten #5, Revenge Of The Damned; and Sten #6, The Return Of The Emperor. Finally, there's DEATHMATCH, which contains Sten #6, Vortex; and Sten #7, End Of Empire. Click on the highlighted titles to buy the books. Plus, if you are a resident of The United Kingdom, you can download Kindle versions of the Omnibus editions. Which is one clot of a deal!
Here's the Kindle link for BATTLECRY
Here's the Kindle link for JUGGERNAUT
Here's the Kindle link for DEATHMATCH
*****
HERE ARE ALL EIGHT AMERICAN EDITIONS OF STEN
YOU CAN BUY THE TRADE PAPERBACKS, E-BOOKS AND AUDIO BOOKS BY CLICKING ON THE STEN PAGE!
*****
THE STEN COOKBOOK & KILGOUR JOKEBOOK
THE STEN COOKBOOK & KILGOUR JOKEBOOK
Two new companion editions to the international best-selling Sten series. In the first, learn the Emperor's most closely held cooking secrets. In the other, Sten unleashes his shaggy-dog joke cracking sidekick, Alex Kilgour. Both available as trade paperbacks or in all major e-book flavors. Click here to tickle your funny bone or sizzle your palate.
*****
*****
IT'S A BOOK!
THE COMPLETE HOLLYWOOD MISADVENTURES!
*****
TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE
 |
| Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969 |
In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is "The Blue Meanie," a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself. Here's where to buy the book.
*****
Diaspar Magazine - the best SF magazine in South America - is publishing the first novel in the Sten series in four
episodes. Part One and Part Two appeared in back-to-back issues. And now Part Three has hit the virtual book stands. Stay tuned, for the grand conclusion. Meanwhile, here are the links to the first three parts. Remember, it's free!
No comments:
Post a Comment