Sleepless throughout the dark mosquito-ridden powerless night brought about by the mid-afternoon showers that had cooled the whole place down but had left us spending the better part of Prima Aprilius/Easter sans power, I woke up to moonlight shining on my face and to the muzzein’s call to Fajr followed soon after by the tolling of the bells of the nearby church. I flick my wrist and read the time. It’s 4 a.m. and it’s Monday. And then it struck me: I’m on a vacation.
Fifty years after the events of ALTERED CARBON, Takeshi Kovacs is serving as a mercenary in the Procterate-sponsored war to put down Joshuah Kemp’s revolution on the planet Sanction IV. He is offered the chance to join a covert team chasing a prize whose value is limitless — and whose dangers are endless. Here is a novel that takes mankind to the brink.

A breakneck-paced crime thriller, ALTERED CARBON took its readers deep into the universe Morgan had so compellingly realised without ever letting them escape the onward rush of the plot. BROKEN ANGELS melds SF, the war novel and the spy thriller to take the reader below the surface of this future and lay bare the treacheries, betrayals and follies that leave man so ill-prepared for the legacy he has been given: the stars. This is SF at its dizzying best: superb, yet subtle, world-building; strong yet sensitive characterisation; awesome yet believable technology, thilling yet profound writing. Richard Morgan is set to join the genre’s world-wide elite.

It’s the twenty-fifth century, and advances in technology have redefined life itself. A person’s consciousness can now be stored in the brain and downloaded into a new body (or “sleeve”), making death nothing more than a minor blip on a screen. Onetime U.N. Envoy Takeshi Kovacs has been killed before, but his last death was particularly painful. Resleeved into a body in Bay City (formerly San Francisco), Kovacs is thrown into the dark heart of a shady, far-reaching conspiracy that is vicious even by the standards of a society that treats existence as something that can be bought and sold. For Kovacs, the shell that blew a hole in his chest was only the beginning.