Ex-Patriots: A Novel (Ex-Heroes, Band 2) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 5: Ex-Heroes

Clines, Peter

 
9780804136594: Ex-Patriots: A Novel (Ex-Heroes, Band 2)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0804136599 ISBN 13: 9780804136594
Verlag: Crown, 2013

Inhaltsangabe

The second novel in Peter Clines' bestselling Ex series.

It's been two years since the plague of ex-humans decimated mankind. Two years since the superheroes St. George, Cerberus, Zzzap, and Stealth gathered Los Angeles’s survivors behind the walls of their fortress, the Mount.
 
Since then, the heroes have been fighting to give the Mount’s citizens hope, and something like a real life. But now supplies are growing scarce, the zombies are pressing in . . . and the heroes are wondering how much longer they can hold out. 
 
Then hope arrives in the form of a surviving US Army battalion--and not just any battalion. The men and women of the Army's Project Krypton survived the outbreak because they are super-soldiers, created before mankind's fall to be better, stronger, faster than normal humans--and their secure base in Arizona beckons as a much needed refuge for the beleaguered heroes and their charges.
 
But a dark secret lies at the heart of Project Krypton, and those behind it wield an awesome and terrifying power. 

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

PETER CLINES has published several pieces of short fiction and countless articles on the film and television industries, as well as the novels Ex-Heroes, Ex-Communication, Ex-Purgatory, and 14.  He lives and writes in southern California.

Von der hinteren Coverseite

The second novel in Peter Clines' bestselling Ex series.

It's been two years since the plague of ex-humans decimated mankind. Two years since the superheroes St. George, Cerberus, Zzzap, and Stealth gathered Los Angeles's survivors behind the walls of their fortress, the Mount.

Since then, the heroes have been fighting to give the Mount's citizens hope, and something like a real life. But now supplies are growing scarce, the zombies are pressing in . . . and the heroes are wondering how much longer they can hold out.

Then hope arrives in the form of a surviving US Army battalion--and not just any battalion. The men and women of the Army's Project Krypton survived the outbreak because they are super-soldiers, created before mankind's fall to be better, stronger, faster than normal humans--and their secure base in Arizona beckons as a much needed refuge for the beleaguered heroes and their charges.

But a dark secret lies at the heart of Project Krypton, and those behind it wield an awesome and terrifying power.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

The Doctor Is In

THEN

I was in my private lab, gathering the notes for my one-thirty lecture. My teaching assistant, Mary, was dividing her time between searching for the flash drive that contained my PowerPoint slides and organizing a pile of correspondence and journals that had spilled onto the floor from my desk. To her credit, she'd let the papers fall and grabbed the photos of my wife and daughter.

My beard was scratching against my collar. I'd wanted to have it trimmed before the start of the semester and lost track of time. Now I was heading off to my fourth lecture and it still was a shaggy mess of too-much-silver hair. Eva hates it when my beard gets too long. It was short when we met in grad school. I needed to stop by the campus barber before I ended up looking any more like Walt Whitman.

I heard the door open behind me as I packed my briefcase, but thought nothing of it until I heard my name.

"Dr. Emil Sorensen?"

The speaker was a young man I didn't recognize. He wore a well-tailored suit he looked uncomfortable in. A double-Windsor-knotted tie. Tight, cropped hair above sharp eyes.

I'd seen this ploy many times. Every professor sees it at least once or twice a semester. There are a few different names for it, but here the faculty calls it the VIP Play. An undergrad tries to look or sound important to put themselves on equal footing with their instructor. Then they explain the extenuating circumstances behind a certain grade or exam result. They drop the names of people who would be disappointed because of it. Which all leads, of course, to the suggestion that they should be allowed to resubmit a paper, retake a test, or--in some bold cases--simply have their grade changed to something acceptable.

I was running late and it was too early in the semester for such schemes. "You have ninety seconds," I said. "Can I help you with something?"

Even as I spoke, two more men stepped in behind the first. They were larger and more solid than him. One carried an attaché case. All their suits matched.

Mary stopped looking for the flash drive. Her gaze shifted from me to the trio of men.

"John Smith," said the man. "I know it sounds like a joke, but that's really my name. I'd like to speak with you for a few moments, if I could." He had a broad smile I knew from fundraisers and alumni dinners. A practiced smile, but not a well-practiced one.

"This really isn't the best time. I have a lecture in about ten minutes on the other side of campus, and--"

"I hope you'll forgive me," said Smith, "but I took the liberty of canceling your lecture."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"John Smith," he repeated. The smile faltered as his hand fumbled with a leather wallet. He opened it to reveal a golden badge and a set of credentials with his photo. He was smiling in the photo. "Agent Smith, technically. I'm with the Department of Homeland Security, seconded to the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. Could we speak alone, sir?"

He said the last with a nod to Mary. She looked at me with wide eyes. We all spoke a bit too freely at times, and on a college campus paranoia and rumors about the Patriot Act ran like wildfire. "Doctor?"

I tried what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "Why don't you go see if there are any stragglers at Bartlett Hall," I told her. "Let them know this delay doesn't mean they're off the hook for next week's test."

She gathered her own papers and paused to make sure I saw the flash drive she'd uncovered. The smile graced Smith's face the entire time. He gave Mary a polite wave as she slipped out between the two larger men. They closed the door behind her.

"So what's this all about?"

Smith's face relaxed. As the smile faded, he gained several years. Not a young man, but cursed with the face of one. One of the other biochem professors had the same problem. A young face in a college town meant always being carded at the liquor store and never being taken as seriously as your colleagues.

"You're a very impressive man, Dr. Sorensen," he said. "You've got more doctorate degrees than I've got years of education. Physiology. Neurology. Biochemistry. A forerunner in molecular nanotechnology and--"

"I know my own credentials."

"From what I've read, you got cheated out of the Nobel Prize last year."

"It's not about winning prizes," I said. "Besides, the gene modification techniques Evans and the others developed are brilliant. They even helped my own work."

"Of course," Smith agreed with a polite nod. "You've received several grants from DARPA over the past twenty years. If I read the file right, your contract's been renewed a record-breaking seven times. In fact"--he gave a forced chuckle--"you started working for the government just before my eighth birthday."

"Can you please get to the point, Mr. Smith?"

The smile faltered again. "Well, doctor, the fact is they want to bring you on full-time and put you in charge of--"

"Not interested."

His face dropped. "You don't even know which project I was going to say."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I'm comfortable with my arrangement the way it is."

"Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Smith reached out to the side. The man with the attaché case opened it and placed a file folder in the waiting hand. "You've seen some of the headlines, I'm guessing?" He walked past me to the table and spread out some clippings and printed articles.



THE MIGHTY DRAGON PATROLS LOS ANGELES

"APE MAN" STOPS ROBBERY

SHADOWY FIGURE HUNTS RAMPART DISTRICT CRIMINALS



I'd seen most of them before. A few of my grad students had been saving news stories and images for me since the Mighty Dragon had first appeared in June. I guessed we had twice as many articles as Smith did. Copies were on the flash drive, which reminded me to pick it up and drop it in my pocket. "Have you seen the ones about the electrical man up in Boston?" I asked him.

His eyes lit up like a child. "I have. What do you think of them?"

"I'm intrigued, of course, but until I see more concrete proof than a headline in the Post or some grainy photos on a blog, it's not going to occupy a lot of my time."

"But you've had your students saving news stories for you." His smile came back.

"What are you getting at, Mr. Smith?"

He avoided my eyes and looked around the lab. "I hate to sound suspicious, Professor Sorensen, but . . . well, some folks at DARPA have been wondering if you've had some success with your human enhancement research that you haven't told us about."

I felt a twinge of panic. Maybe Mary's paranoia wasn't that misplaced after all. "You think I had something to do with these people?"

Smith shrugged. "To be honest," he said, "I think they'd be thrilled if you had. It'd put the United States far ahead in the superpowers race."

"The what?"

"They're not just here, doctor," he said. "People with superhuman abilities are appearing all over the world. Did you see Vladimir Putin on the cover of Time last month?" Smith shook his head.

"I saw the picture," I said with a nod. They'd titled it "Superman of the Year." Putin had been bare-chested in front of the Kremlin, holding a car one-handed over his head. "I thought it was Photoshop propaganda."

"Most people did. Thank the CIA for that. But superhumans are popping up everywhere." Smith slid some more photos from the file folder. "England's got the Green Knight and the Scarecrow. Japan's got a whole team of super-samurais. There're two guys in Iran calling themselves Gilgamesh and Marduk. Hell, we got satellite footage of a dragon flying over Baghdad this morning. Wings, horns, tail, everything."

"A...

„Über diesen Titel“ kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Verlag
Crown
Erscheinungsdatum
2013
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0804136599
ISBN 13 
9780804136594
Einband
Taschenbuch
Auflage
1
Anzahl der Seiten
432
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
gpsr@libri.de
gpsr@libri.de

Friedensallee 273
Hamburg
22763
Deutschland

Weitere beliebte Ausgaben desselben Titels

9780091953638: Ex-Patriots (Ex-Heroes, 2)

Vorgestellte Ausgabe

ISBN 10:  0091953634 ISBN 13:  9780091953638
Verlag: Del Rey, 2013
Softcover