THE JUPITER WAR

TO FIGHT OR DIE AMONG THE FARTHEST STARS ...

         It’s 2050s . . . and the Jupiter War has begun.

         Earth is divided into two enemy camps: the United Nations—the United States, Europe, Russia, and Japan—and the Confederation of States—South America, South Africa, and Arabia. They have taken their animosity into space, each claiming territories farther and farther out in the solar system, until both reach and lay claim to the wealth to be found in Jupiter’s moons. And then, finally, inevitably, the Jupiter War begins, a war that will see men and women dying in vacuum, their corpses inexorably claimed by the planet over which they all fight.

         Neither side will surrender, neither will admit it might be wrong. And so the ships continue to fly and fight in this gripping future history created by some of the most imaginitive science fiction writers at their militaristic best.

An excerpt from “Dread Moon” by Gregory Benford:

         The fighter didn’t stop. It reached for Nye with a knife that suddenly flipped up, standing straight out at the end of a telescoping arm. Zoti smashed the arm. The fighting machine tumbled out and went facedown on the ice. Russ shot it in the back of its power panel. It didn’t move anymore.

         “Damn!” Nye said. “Had a switchblade! You ever—”

         “Get in front!” Russ yelled, turning away.

         “What? I—”

         “It’s still armed,” Russ called, already running . . .

AND THEN THE ENEMY WAS UPON THEM!

Emerson flew the Banshee III like one possessed. He slammed in full power and shot so fast down a corridor between two Feds that they couldn’t train on him. Then he hit the attitude jets and angled up, actually clipping the antenna on another Fed as he flashed by.

Emerson’s group had almost broken out above the enemy pack when a missile snaked past the Banshee III. It just missed them, but it blew Bad Mac to atoms. And that was when Emerson’s gunner froze, knowing the Feds had just murdered the woman he loved. Emerson slapped control of forward screen arms to another crewman and yelled for him to take over. They were almost out and could see their reinforcements streaking in behind the few Fed fighters still in their way, but in that maze of fire, it was too late. Numbing concussion rocked Banshee III, and she spun away into darkness . . .