jwrites3

Human beings are always craving change, but when it finally does come it is frightening...sometimes to the point that we would prefer death.

Pat Dalworthy is a tracker, ex-pilot cadet in Space Corps, and a dabbler in physics. As a tracker (a hunter of people who would rather not be found) he is the best there is in Inner System and, to hear him tell it, Outer System, too. One of the problems with being the best is that you sometimes get much, much more than you bargained for.

Dalworthy is in for the ride of a lifetime and more than a lifetime of a ride when he is contracted by Sean McGavin, one of the wealthiest men in the entire solar system, to track down one of his granddaughters. She has disappeared into the lower city, and she has taken something that McGavin wants returned. Dalworthy is to hunt her down and come back with both the woman and the goods. He is not to stop until it is done. It is not going to be easy or simple, and, unknown to him, he is expendable.

Xenogenesis is hard hitting, fast moving science fiction with a technological edge to it that cuts deep and clean. The author takes us into a world not too far away where possibilities, frighteningly disastrous or pleasantly promising possibilities, exist. Societal and economic changes have taken place since the war of wars, to be sure, but science and technology remain a step or two ahead of the prospect of self-annihilation that the human species has lived with for a very long time. In Xenogenesis, all of that is about to undergo a radical and permanent change as we take the next great leap in evolution. Not natural evolution, but evolution nonetheless. Race along with Dalworthy as he runs against a rapid countdown to an unthinkable ultimate disaster or an unimaginable, irreversible -- XENOGENESIS. This is a ride into the not yet but soon to be that you will never, ever forget.

REVIEWS OF XENOGENESIS

“Xenogenesis is one of those rare books that manages to catch even the most jaded of sci-fi readers off-guard. Somewhere between the description of cities in stratified levels of wealth and the injection of nano-machines, we realize that we are somewhere between the world we inhabit and the world we only dream about, which makes the entire book something beyond a simple novel of escape. This combination of biotechnology and space travel with a hefty dose of hard-boiled detective fiction in the character of Patrick Dalworthy allows Jacobs to create a work that is both fantastic and close to home, one that tackles the subject of what it truly means to be human in a rapidly advancing world and answer it with aplomb.

Jamie A. Hughes”

"Here is serious Science Fiction in the wakes of Isaac Asimov, Sir Arthur C. Clarke and Robert Forward, but certainly not taking a back seat to any of them. Xenogenesis provides an insightful look into a plausible and possible future. Corporate governments, split at the lunar orbital line, are competing for dominance of the solar system and have reached a stalemate that has both sides frustrated and suspicious yet, strangely, dependent on one another. A vertically segregated society has grown into being--the higher you go, the better off you are. Secret projects run rampant in this competitive corporate future. Jacobs gives us a well thought out peek at a technology that is rapidly taking form in our reality...now. Xenogenesis is not a fantasy or swashbuckler full of technobabble--very meaty content chockablock with mystery, murder, sinister plans, and deep running plots and subplots as the hero, Pat Dalworthy, races against dwindling time to save us from ourselves and falls prey to the ultimate change. Xenogenesis...

Anonymous"

   “Has Ryan connected with Mr. Dalworthy, Leonard?”

   “Yes, sir, Mr. McGavin. They entered the Gersham five minutes ago.”

   “Ah, wonderful. Then we shall be hearing from him soon.”

   “Hearing from whom, sir?”

   “Come now, Leonard. I wanted Mr. Dalworthy because he is the very best at what he does. He will see through our little charade instantly and our innocent, dull-witted messenger will be duped or forced into revealing my identity quite easily. That is the plan. You’ll see, Leonard. You’ll see.”

   “Yes, sir. I'll see. Why do you think he will call, sir?”

   “Curiosity, Leonard. According to my research, Mr. Dalworthy is possessed by an extreme curiosity that frequently overrides his common sense. I am counting on that. In the meantime, bring me the Ryan Seven behavioral study. I want to review it while we wait for Mr. Dalworthy’s call.”

   As the door closed behind Leonard, a young woman, sitting quietly on the corner of the desk, bent down and planted a gentle kiss on McGavin's cheek.

    “You’re so smart, Gramps. This man—this Dalworthy—will he really be able to find her?”

   “That remains to be seen, Sheila, but I can tell you this much; if anyone outside the World Governing Board system can find her, it is Dalworthy. Now, my dear, if you don’t mind, I want to be alone for a while.”

   She gave him as much of a hurt-little-girl look as any exceptionally well-proportioned woman of twenty-four dressed only in blue body paint and megaheels could, then slid provocatively to the floor.

   “All right, Gramps, but don’t forget, you promised to take me to the execution in the morning.”

   “Yes, I did...and I shall. Just don’t you forget my proviso, young lady.”

   “Oh, Gramps,” she grumbled.

   “Don’t you ‘Oh, Gramps’ me, Sheila. You will find yourself some real clothing...and clean that...that stuff off. If your skin is any other color than scrubbed pink there will be no execution for you.”

   “Gramps, you’re so...so old-fashioned.”

   “Perhaps, Sheila, but that was the stipulation and, as I recall, you agreed.”

   “Damn,” she whined.

   Sheila skulked into the corridor; her ultramarine buttocks bouncing to the rhythm of a megaheel stiffened gate and deliberately exaggerated hip swing. “Old people,” she muttered.

   Leonard brushed by the blue-bodied Sheila, side-slipped through the closing door, and handed McGavin a small plastic card. McGavin checked its verification date, then dropped it in a slot on the edge of his desk.

   “Leonard.”

   “Yes, Mr. McGavin?”

   “Can you explain to me how anyone can walk in shoes with eight-inch heels?”

   “Inch, sir?”

   “Twenty centimeters, Leonard.”

   “Uh, no. No, sir, I can’t.”

   “Am I old, Leonard?” he asked while he watched the contents of the report scroll across the top of his desk.

   “At ninety-five? Not hardly, sir.”

   “I didn’t think so, either. Leonard, how would you like to—ah, here it is—to join us for the pre-execution festivities? I understand they have a new chef.”

   “Thank you, sir. I would like that very much, but I have an appointment for the psychetron in the morning. Of course, if you prefer, I will reschedule for...”

   “No, no, Leonard. You go ahead and—”

   “Mr. McGavin, there’s a call for you on forty-one,” a voice from the intercom interrupted.

   “Who is it?”

   “A very angry man, sir. He refuses to give me his name. His line identifier is scrambled and our system can't break the code. If you ask me, he looks like a downtown street-rat, sir. Shall I terminate the call?”

   “Aha!” McGavin said and cleared the Ryan Seven data from his desk. “No, no, no. Connect us, please, and secure the line.” There was excitement in his voice. “You see, Leonard? Twenty-five minutes and here he is.”

   “Here who is, sir?”

   “Why, Mr. Dalworthy, of course.”

   “Mr. Dalworthy, of course, sir.”

   The harsh, white light of the comcam robbed Dalworthy’s image of what little color it had and caused his drawn face to take on the grayness of the recently embalmed, but there was no hiding the heat in his eyes as he glared out of the wall screen at McGavin.