The Duke of Uranium, by John Barnes, is a fun, fast read. The story flows smoothly from page to page, and along the way, we're introduced to a rich, detailed world. It's an adventure tale about young Jak Jinnaka who is embarking on the career that, unbeknownst to him, he's been training for all of his life.

Jak is the center of the adventure, as a secret agent-type just getting his "feets." His newness to the game hampers him slightly as he tries to accomplish a mission, and he's not yet acquired that "familiarity with everything" that marks such seasoned agents as Bond or The Saint. It's his job to rescue the princess, and keep the bad guy from marrying her. This may sound cliched, but of course, it's much more complicated than this.

The playground Jak is loosed upon is a far future of Earth, as well as other human colonies, including The Hive, a free-floating space station in the L5 point of Earth's orbit, and a mining settlement on Mercury. Mankind has (relatively) recently emerged from a war with the Rubahy, an extra-solar alien species, and is awaiting a ruling from a Galactic Court on "the continuation of both species." Humans are apparently stuck in the solar system by their lack of FTL travel, but they do travel around the solar system in ships powered by solar sails.

One of the things I like most about this book is that the science in it, while ahead of our time, is not beyond our current scientific thought. There are no warp engines or teleporters here, and the only artificial gravity you'll find is provided by rotation: the outer rim of a space station becomes "down." In some cases, this future technology may require slightly smaller manufacturing scales than we can now achieve -- the solar sail requires monofilament strands, for example -- but thats the extent of Barnes's extrapolation. Don't get me wrong, I love the speculation in science that science fiction gives us, but it's refreshing once in a while to read one where the science is largely direct applications of current knowledge. It's incidental to the central plot, but it helps form a well-developed universe for Jak to romp in.

In addition to extrapolating his future science, Barnes gives us a society that is somewhat fantastic, but whose roots we can see in modern philosophies. It is certainly not the most likely of futures, but it is within the realm of the possible. Along these lines, we are introduced to "the Wager," a set of rules for living life that keep humans comforted and interacting as a functional society. This has become the majority religion in Jak's world, and is taught in schools as part of the basis of his society, although apparently each major human settlement has its own slight variation. It's referenced several times, and I thought that the wording of the various rules was particularly funny.

. . . a passenger . . . was running through the Short Litany of Terror, a traditional subset of the principles of the Wager used when in fear of death. "'144: Death happens anyway,'" he chanted."Therefore '062: Since it doesn't change anything, go ahead and fear death if it makes you feel better,' because '009: Fear is an excellent way to pass the time when there is nothing else you can do,' but remember that '171: Courage is fear without consequences.'" The man, whoever he was, drew a deep shaking breath and began again, "'144: Death happens, anyway,' therefore '062 . . . .'"

This chunk of the Wager, the "Short Litany of Terror," keeps the passengers of a plummeting shuttle from turning into a screaming mass of hysteria in a situation which is clearly beyond their control. We see only bits and pieces of this system of rules for life, but they are enough to give us a vision of the form for the coherent whole.

In contrast to the status quo of the Wager, Mr. Barnes also gives us a slight peek behind the curtain, where various groups are trying to engineer the society into their own designs. Barnes comes up with a classification system for them, which describes their goals through a shape and a number associated with each group. Of course, each group has its allies and enemies, and the contention between the groups helps keep them in balance.

One of the groups in question has engineered the kidnapping of Jak's demmy Sesh, and it's his job to get her back before she marries into the house that kidnapped her. Behind the scenes, two of the shadow groups are vying for power, and Sesh is a pawn in their plans. The rescue plan is not the cliched dashing heroic variety, but something a bit more subtle. Jak simply has to carry a message.

Here the plot takes a small sidetrack, as Jak takes the two month trip to get to Earth via Mercury on the above-mentioned sailships. However, this allows us to get a better view into Jak, his motivations, and his methods. We get a much more complete picture of him through his voyage. The combination of this side trip and the short future interview of Jak's teacher at the start of the book gives me the feeling that this is intended to merely be a starting point of a long career for Jak.

I was slightly dissatisfied by the ending of the book. This was partially because of the change of pace, which had a hurried feel in the final chapter or two, almost as if the author was running out of time or space. A large part of my annoyance, however, was that the book was now over, and I couldn't read more about Jak, the richly detailed world he inhabits, or the Wager. I'm hoping that my intuition is correct, that this is merely the first of many Jak Jinnaka books, as I would enjoy seeing where he goes from this foundation that Barnes has laid for him.

Paul Schumacher is a copy editor at Strange Horizons.