The Duke Of Uranium

A “wildly entertaining homage to the best ’60s Heinlein juveniles,” from a multiple Nebula finalist (Publishers Weekly). Jak Jinnaka’s teenage life in the thirty-sixth century has been nothing but fun—ignoring school, partying outrageously with his beautiful girlfriend, Sesh, and spending his uncle Sib’s huge fortune. But then, while they are out for a wild night of post-graduation clubbing, Sesh is kidnapped by the dangerous, enigmatic Duke of Uranium. Bruised and battered, Jak wakes up to a whole new reality. Sweet, superficial Sesh is actually Princess Shyf of Greenworld, daughter of the rulers of a powerful faraway spaceport. Kind and slightly dotty old Uncle Sib is a legendary spymaster. And Jak’s whole life has been preparation for the world of espionage . . . Now, his maiden mission is to rescue his girlfriend from one of the most powerful aristocrats in the solar system—or is it? The world Uncle Sib has plunged him into has wheels within every wheel and hidden forces in every shadow, in this action-packed tale by the acclaimed author of Directive 51 and the Timeline Wars series. “Rollicking space opera with outlaws, space travel, kidnappings, rescues, chases, and the abrupt coming of age of the protagonist.” —Science Fiction Chronicle “Barnes plays with old-fashioned space opera in this far-future SF adventure. . . . This is a fun romp.” —Locus

DIVDIVJak Jinnaka is off to save a princess yet again—except . . ./divDIV Ostensibly a diplomat, really a spy in training, Jak Jinnaka has such a gift for getting into trouble that his fellow students have voted him “most likely to have a war named after him.” His latest offense against cultural sensitivity would have ended his career at his junior year—except that the Academy is thoroughly corrupt, Jak has powerful and wealthy friends, and there’s an easier way for the dean of students to get rid of him: Jak’s ex-girlfriend, Princess Shyf of Greenworld (one of hundreds of nations in a space station the size of the moon), sends a cry for help that will conveniently take Jak one hundred eighty-five million miles out of the dean’s hair./divDIV /divDIVJust like that, Jak is off to save Shyf in the name of true love, the Aerie for the sake of liberty, and his own potential for a lucrative and undemanding government job./divDIV /divDIVBut Shyf has found a very unpleasant use for Jak, and now that she’s got him, she might not let him go./divDIV/div/div

DIVDIVWith the soul of thirty-sixth-century humanity at stake, Jak Jinnaka steps in . . . now we’re really in trouble /divDIV Jak Jinnaka parlayed his powerful family connections, unearned media fame, and consistent dumb luck into a cushy job as vice procurator of the Martian moon Deimos, an office he precariously maintains alongside his top-secret post as a station chief for Hive Intelligence—two soft jobs for an already rich, handsome, single young man in a fun-loving colonial outpost./divDIV Sadly, when his boss takes a well-deserved vacation, it looks like Jak may actually have to do a little work—keep local trade humming, maintain the Hive’s hegemony, prevent the boss’s pretty teenage niece’s internship from becoming front-page celebrity gossip, and make sure his rambunctious visiting uncle Sib doesn’t cause international incidents among the thousands of prickly petty kingdoms on Mars./divDIV Then, in one of the pettiest kingdoms of all, the lifelog of the man who wrote the Wager—a set of principles that guides all human life in the thirty-sixth century—is discovered, and the race is on for control of the holiest relic in a thousand years, with Jak in the lead and all of the devils and angels of his past howling at his heels. /divDIV/div/div

Atomic Alloys Amalgamated could always use a research technician. A man like Rosco Cawdor was sure of a job there. The security department hadn't been terribly keen. Cawdor had no living relatives. No one knew him. A few strands of circumstantial evidence were his only proof of identity. He was a brilliant scientist. His great reason d'etre was the new power sphere. It was his brain child, his creation. It looked like opening a whole new field of undreamt of nuclear research. The sphere could hold the secret of unlimited power. It could also hold unlimited danger. The stranger arrived. He looked disconcertingly like Rosco. He said Rosco was not Rosco! He said a lot more . . . somebody disappeared! They tested the power sphere. The all important cut-out fused together. The experiment went mad. The sphere was out of control. Why could Rosco withstand fatal doses of radiation? Who was the stranger? Why did they look alike? What were they after? Could the power sphere be controlled before it destroyed the planet?