The Resisters #3: Titan Base

The Resisters #3: Titan Base

Million-copy bestselling Halo author and game developer Eric Nylund brings action-packed science fiction to a young audience with the third book in the Resisters series.   Despite their recent victory over the alien Ch'zar, Ethan Blackwood and his squadron have no time to rest. The Ch'zar are still relentlessly searching for the Seed Bank, the Resisters' secret base—and they're getting dangerously close. If they find it, all the adults in the Seed Bank will be absorbed into the the aliens' collective mind. Now Ethan and his friends must evade all Ch'zar scouts and find a new home for the Resistance. Once again, it's all up to the kids. Gr 5-7-Ethan Blackwood is leading the young members of Sterling Squadron to find a new base for Earth's fight against the occupying alien Ch'zar. The responsibility of his promotion to lieutenant weighs heavily on the 12-year-old, and his struggle to develop the qualities of a good leader is a central theme of the book. Action drives the rest of the narrative, moving at a breakneck pace from battle to battle, slowing only to describe futuristic gadgets and weaponry. Nylund provides brief backstory and just enough information about supporting characters to be able to tell them apart; Ethan is the only one who stands out. References to events from The Resisters (2011) and Sterling Squadron (2012, both Random) will leave new readers at a disadvantage. The stage is set for the next entry in the series as Ethan uncovers a mystery about his parents and the team searches for another resistance moment. Order where the previous titles are popular; give to middle school gamers and readers too young for Nylund's adult adaptations of Halo, including The Fall of Reach (Del Rey, 2001).-M. Kozikowski, Sachem Public Library, Holbrook, NYα(c) Copyright 2011. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. Eric Nylund is a New York Times bestselling and World Fantasy Award nominated author. He has written science fiction and fantasy novels, comic books, and has helped make many blockbuster video games. Eric has a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in chemistry. He graduated from the prestigious Clarion West Writer’s Workshop in 1994. He lives in the Pacific Northwest with his family. You can learn more about Eric at www.ericnylund.net. Ethan braced himself. He couldn't stop shaking from the adrenaline thundering through his body. He was pretty sure he was about to die. Surrounded by a faster, deadlier enemy and outnumbered--it qualified for "sitting duck" status. "More incoming missiles!" Madison screamed over the radio. "I now count forty." These weren't like any Ch'zar missiles Ethan had ever seen. There were no organic parts. In fact, they reminded Ethan of the model rockets he and his sister used to launch. They had rivets and gleaming aluminum hulls, even serial numbers painted on their sides. The one major difference? These rockets were thirty feet long and exploded on contact. Ethan felt smothered inside his cockpit--a closet-like space with blinking indicators, "breathing" air vents, radar screens, and camera displays that tracked missile vapor trails screwing through the air toward his position. He piloted one of the most advanced fighting craft ever devised: a three-ton mechanical insect hybrid called an insectoid combat exoskeleton (I.C.E. for short). Its armor shrugged off bullets, fire, and crash landings. Its stinger laser could fry through a foot of titanium alloy steel. If that weren't enough, flying in a wedge formation off his wingtips were the other eight I.C.E.s that made up Sterling Squadron. Together they'd fought off armies and aerial attack groups. But nothing like this. These missiles had appeared out of nowhere--all closing in on his team at supersonic speeds. From his vantage point of thirty thousand feet, the attack pattern looked like a gigantic flower blossoming among the fluffy clouds. It was easy to forget it was actually several tons of high-explosive ordnance moving at Mach speeds. A few missiles . . . he could've dodged, or even survived a direct hit. But they could never outmaneuver so many. And he couldn't outrun a missile. Even if he could, there was nowhere to run. The missiles had them surrounded in a rapidly shrinking circle. It was a perfect trap. What really bugged Ethan, though, was that there were no alien Ch'zar units in radar range that could have aimed and fired the stupid things. Of course, there shouldn't be any Ch'zar out here. This was the middle of a restricted radiation zone, what used to be the southwestern region of the United States. The aliens didn't come out here, because they were smart. That radiation killed you quick. "Ethan," Felix whispered over a private radio channel. "What do we do?" Ethan snapped out of it. His thoughts had spiraled out of control. "Get your head in the game, Blackwood," he told himself. "Didn't catch that last,"