E C Tubb

"WHO ARE THE WARBIRDS?Misfits mostly. Men who sought in the rush and tide of battle, an outlet for violent emotion. Society condemned them, yet admired their necessity. Cultures shunned them - yet gladly used their services. Wars there were, and wars there would be, but technology had forced war to become a thing apart.Nations, planets, dared not to fight. Gone were the days of indiscriminate killing. The dross from atomic piles was too plentiful, too deadly potent, for any state, no matter how powerful, to blast his neighbour. A single man, or woman, driven frantic with grief over the loss of a loved one, could load a ship with atomic dust, slip through the tightest cordon, and spread utter destruction.Once spread, nothing could stop a world turning into an arid desert. Such planets were to be seen. Grown wealthy and arrogant, they had waged war, and died as a result.And so the Warbirds. The Eagles. Mercenaries. Free Companions. Stateless men. Devoid of passion, hate and fear, they fought for money, and that alone. Men who could be trusted. Men who fought to a strict code. Battles were fought, and not a civilian died. Wars were lost, and not a city harmed. Losers paid, and paid dearly, but that was the total of their lives.And Gregg Harmond was one of them. From farmer to mercenary to Commander, he rose quickly to power and created one of the mightiest war machines in the universe. But could he hold onto it?"

The alleys of Turgan were thin fingers of twisting darkness, writhing in an intricate pattern as they wended between the high walls of ancient houses. Old were these houses, old with the slow passage of a hundred thousand years, and they stared down at the sand-filled alleys with blank faces and the blind eyes of barred doors.Even in daylight it was hard to find a man in the maze of the old town, at night it was impossible and Fenris was glad of it.He tensed, crouching down beside a wall smoothed to a dull polish by the whispering sand storms of Mars, and strained his ears at a subtle sound. It came again, a soft scuff of sandled feet against the dust, the harsh sound of indrawn breath, and the faint click of metal against metal as weapons touched buckles or rasped against stone.High above, the twin moons cast a faint light, a ghostly luminescence, vague and insubstantial, like the dream-glow of the Dryland Shamans and their magic globes of a long-dead science . . .

In a future where interstellar space travel is commonplace, following the invention of the Nulgrav Drive, planetoids and meteorites pose the only threat to spacecraft. The solution: a space engineering company, Planetoid Disposals Ltd., is created to destroy rogue stellar bodies and sweep the space lanes clear of debris. With the Galactic Patrol enforcing peace throughout the galaxy, it is a time of prosperity. But when a non-human race finds a way to checkmate the Patrol, it means war with humanity. The Vendians launch their mighty fleet against an unearmed Earth, and only Planetoid Disposals' fleet of ships stands in their way...

For ten years, Colin sweated, slaved, and eventually built a nice business on a dusty world called Mars. Five more years and he'd have put all worry behind him. Ten more years and he'd have been able to retire a rich man.He didn't get those years.During a sandstorm, he blundered accidentally into the forbidden zone, where the temple of Dra Vheera waited and rested, an area guarded zealously to the death by a fanatical faith. The Martians complained, and he lost all, stripped of everything he owned, fined, and sent back to Earth on a one-way ticket.And who was to blame? The Dra Vheera priesthood of Mars, the temple, the religion. Different names for all three, but all three really one. A man named Barnhart offered vengeance-sweet, pure vengeance. With his help and money, Colin put together a force of eager men determined to strike back at the Martians. Only they found more than they bargained for.The safety of Earth was now at stake, and Colin had to race against time and death to save mankind

Empire builder Max Feyman had ruthlessly gained control of an invention called the 'zipdrive', a system of ultra-fast space travel. But his world is shattered when his daughter Celia, holidaying on the moon, is suddenly rendered unable to walk or speak-dependent on others to remain alive. Then, across the solar system, others are also struck down. Feyman must find a cure for the mysterious affliction that threatens not only the life of his only daughter-but also humanity itself

Ships occasionally disappeared in hyperspace, regrettable sacrifices to the luxury of faster than light travel. But now one of the lost ships has been found and the wreckage is enough to terrify even the most cold-blooded witness.The lucky ones on the lost ship are dead. The others have been turned inside-out in gruesome parody of human beings and they are still alive.The disgraced Captain Kurt Varl is chosen to command a suicide mission to discover the cause of these disasters.The enemy is unknown and the only way Varl can solve the mystery is to use himself as bait