Version 43

Version 43

Philip Palmer

Language: English

Pages: 560

ISBN: 0316018945

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


The Exodus Universe.

Your odds of surviving quantum teleportation are, more or less, fifty/fifty. The only ones crazy enough to try it are the desperate, the insane, and those sentenced to exile for their crimes.

Belladonna is home to the survivors of the fifty/fifty-- and is therefore a planet run by criminals and thieves. But when a horrific and improbable murder catches the attention of the Galactic Police force, one cyborg cop -- Version 43 -- is sent to investigate.

Version 43 has been here before and has old friends and older enemies lying in wait. The cop was human once, but now, he is more program than man and will find a way to clean up this planet once and for all.

Botschaft von den Sternen (Perry Rhodan Neo, Band 107; Die Methans, Band 7)

Lemuria (Perry Rhodan Silberbände, Band 28; Die Meister der Insel, Band 8)

Brennpunkt Andro-Beta (Perry Rhodan Silberbände, Band 25; Die Meister der Insel, Band 5)

Brennpunkt Andro-Beta (Perry Rhodan Silberbände, Band 25; Die Meister der Insel, Band 5)

Valiant (The Lost Fleet, Book 4) (US Edition)

Exil im Hyperraum (Perry Rhodan Silberbände, Band 52; Die Cappins, Band 8)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

live, the crankier and stranger they get. And eventually, they still all die. Yet I remain the same. I have no nickname, not like the AIs which inhabit our colony ships. I am, so far as most human beings are concerned, merely “remote computer” or “Earth Computer.” Very few humans realise I am essentially unchanged since the inception of sentient quantum computing. Every part of me is new, every chip, every screw, every quon, everything. But I have continuity of consciousness, and so I am always

vessel’s small lifeship behind Mandrake Root, away from visual and radar scrutiny. The lifeship was a sleek winged vessel with a black hull that was dotted with “stars,” hence almost invisible to the naked eye, and large enough to contain a fabricator and quantum computer. And so the databird was able to transfer its information into the lifeship’s computer; and from thence into a robot brain. The death of one Cop automatically triggers the rebirth of the next; and thus, I was born. And within

“New barman.” “I never hired you.” “Your son did.” “Why?” “I’m cheap, and good-looking.” “You know what this is?” “It’s a knife, Mrs Grogan,” I said patiently. “What kind of knife?” “A nine-inch Macalister throwing knife with a serrated blade and a hardmetal tip sharp enough to cut through body armour, Mrs Grogan.” “Catch.” I caught it, but only just. “Good reflexes.” “Thank you, Mrs Grogan.” “Who the fuck are you?” “The new barman.” “You know who I am?” “No.” “No?” “No.”

when she wasn’t in uniform. “You got it.” “You’re new here.” “I am.” “I’m Aretha.” “Hi Aretha.” “Hell, you’re good.” I had her drink poured, stirred, mixed with juice and chilled in a few scant seconds. There were three other bar staff working in the same cramped space, but I managed to never get in anyone’s way. I noticed that the skin around Aretha’s jaw was a different colour; the only evidence of a six-week-old skin graft. Her speech was unaffected; the bullet that had blown apart her

this,” said Vishaal, and he held up his hand. And the hand became stars: an entire universe floated in front of me. I spat out my wine. “What the—” I said. “We are gods,” explained Vishaal. The universe faded away, and the hand returned. “Bullshit.” “A universe was born and died in an instant, in the palm of my hand. Only a god can do that.” “It’s simple physics. A bud universe. Or an optical illusion.” “The latter.” Vishaal laughed, a tinkling laugh that echoed like knives in my mind. I

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