Starship Troopers

Zusatztext Praise for Starship Troopers Nothing has come along that can match it. Science Fiction Weekly A book that continues to resonate and influence to this day! and one whose popularity and luster hasn't been dimmed despite decades of imitations. SF Reviews Heinlein's genius is at its height in this timeless classic that is as meaningful today as when it was written...a fast-paced novel that never gets preachy. This is a definite must-have! must-read book. SF Site Informationen zum Autor Robert A. Heinlein Klappentext In Robert A. Heinlein's controversial Hugo Award-winning bestseller, a recruit of the future goes through the toughest boot camp in the Universe-and into battle against mankind's most alarming enemy... Johnnie Rico never really intended to join up-and definitely not the infantry. But now that he's in the thick of it, trying to get through combat training harder than anything he could have imagined, he knows everyone in his unit is one bad move away from buying the farm in the interstellar war the Terran Federation is waging against the Arachnids. Because everyone in the Mobile Infantry fights. And if the training doesn't kill you, the Bugs are more than ready to finish the job... "A classicIf you want a great military adventure, this one is for you."-All SciFi CH:01 Come on, you apes! You wanta live forever? Unknown platoon sergeant, 1918 I always get the shakes before a drop. I've had the injections, of course, and hypnotic preparation, and it stands to reason that I can't really be afraid. The ship's psychiatrist has checked my brain waves and asked me silly questions while I was asleep and he tells me that it isn't fear, it isn't anything importantit's just like the trembling of an eager race horse in the starting gate. I couldn't say about that; I've never been a race horse. But the fact is: I'm scared silly, every time. At D-minus-thirty, after we had mustered in the drop room of the Rodger Young , our platoon leader inspected us. He wasn't our regular platoon leader, because Lieutenant Rasczak had bought it on our last drop; he was really the platoon sergeant, Career Ship's Sergeant Jelal. Jelly was a Finno-Turk from Iskander around Proximaa swarthy little man who looked like a clerk, but I've seen him tackle two berserk privates so big he had to reach up to grab them, crack their heads together like coconuts, step back out of the way while they fell. Off duty he wasn't badfor a sergeant. You could even call him Jelly to his face. Not recruits, of course, but anybody who had made at least one combat drop. But right now he was on duty. We had all each inspected our combat equipment (look, it's your own necksee?), the acting platoon sergeant had gone over us carefully after he mustered us, and now Jelly went over us again, his face mean, his eyes missing nothing. He stopped by the man in front of me, pressed the button on his belt that gave readings on his physicals. Fall out! But, Sarge, it's just a cold. The Surgeon said Jelly interrupted. 'But Sarge!' he snapped. The Surgeon ain't making no dropand neither are you, with a degree and a half of fever. You think I got time to chat with you, just before a drop? Fall out! Jenkins left us, looking sad and madand I felt bad, too. Because of the Lieutenant buying it, last drop, and people moving up, I was assistant section leader, second section, this drop, and now I was going to have a hole in my section and no way to fill it. That's not good; it means a man can run into something sticky, call for help and have nobody to help him. Jelly didn't downcheck anybody else. Presently he stepped out in front of us, looked us over and shook his head sadly. What a gang of apes! he growled. Maybe if you'd all buy it this d...

Praise for Starship Troopers

“Nothing has come along that can match it.”—Science Fiction Weekly
 
“A book that continues to resonate and influence to this day, and one whose popularity and luster hasn’t been dimmed despite decades of imitations.”—SF Reviews
 
“Heinlein’s genius is at its height in this timeless classic that is as meaningful today as when it was written...a fast-paced novel that never gets preachy. This is a definite must-have, must-read book.”—SF Site

Auteur

Robert A. Heinlein

Texte du rabat

In Robert A. Heinlein's controversial Hugo Award-winning bestseller, a recruit of the future goes through the toughest boot camp in the Universe-and into battle against mankind's most alarming enemy...

Johnnie Rico never really intended to join up-and definitely not the infantry. But now that he's in the thick of it, trying to get through combat training harder than anything he could have imagined, he knows everyone in his unit is one bad move away from buying the farm in the interstellar war the Terran Federation is waging against the Arachnids.

Because everyone in the Mobile Infantry fights. And if the training doesn't kill you, the Bugs are more than ready to finish the job...

"A classic…If you want a great military adventure, this one is for you."-All SciFi

Résumé
In Robert A. Heinlein’s controversial Hugo Award-winning bestseller, a recruit of the future goes through the toughest boot camp in the Universe—and into battle against mankind’s most alarming enemy...

Johnnie Rico never really intended to join up—and definitely not the infantry. But now that he’s in the thick of it, trying to get through combat training harder than anything he could have imagined, he knows everyone in his unit is one bad move away from buying the farm in the interstellar war the Terran Federation is waging against the Arachnids.

Because everyone in the Mobile Infantry fights. And if the training doesn’t kill you, the Bugs are more than ready to finish the job...

“A classic…If you want a great military adventure, this one is for you.”—*All SciFi*

Échantillon de lecture

CH:01

Come on, you apes! You wanta live forever?
—Unknown platoon sergeant, 1918

I always get the shakes before a drop. I’ve had the injections, of course, and hypnotic preparation, and it stands to reason that I can’t really be afraid. The ship’s psychiatrist has checked my brain waves and asked me silly questions while I was asleep and he tells me that it isn’t fear, it isn’t anything important—it’s just like the trembling of an eager race horse in the starting gate.

I couldn’t say about that; I’ve never been a race horse. But the fact is: I’m scared silly, every time.

At D-minus-thirty, after we had mustered in the drop room of the Rodger Young, our platoon leader inspected us. He wasn’t our regular platoon leader, because Lieutenant Rasczak had bought it on our last drop; he was really the platoon sergeant, Career Ship’s Sergeant Jelal. Jelly was a Finno-Turk from Iskander around Proxima—a swarthy little man who looked like a clerk, but I’ve seen him tackle two berserk privates so big he had to reach up to grab them, crack their heads together like coconuts, step back out of the way while they fell.

Off duty he wasn’t bad—for a sergeant. You could even call him “Jelly” to his face. Not recruits, of course, but anybody who had made at least one combat drop.

But right now he was on duty. We had all each inspected our combat equipment (look, it’s your own neck—see?), the acting platoon sergeant had gone over us carefully after he mustered us, and now Jelly went over us again, his face mean, his eyes missing nothing. He stopped by the man in front of me, pressed the button on his belt that gave readings on his physicals. “Fall out!”

“But, Sarge, it’s just a cold. The S…