My name is Rex. I am a good dog. Rex is also seven foot tall at the shoulder, bulletproof, bristling with heavy calibre weaponry and his voice resonates with subsonics especially designed to instil fear. With Dragon, Honey and Bees, he's part of a Multiform Assault Pack operating in the lawless anarchy of Campeche, Mexico. A genetically engineered Bioform, he's a deadly weapon in a dirty war. All he wants to be is a Good Dog. And to do that he must do exactly what Master says and Master says he's got to kill a lot of enemies.

The Hygrometric Dehabitation Region, or the "Zone," is a growing band of rainforest on the equator, where the heat and humidity make it impossible for warm-blooded animals to survive. A human being without protection in the Zone is dead in minutes. Twenty years ago, Marks went into the rainforest with a group of researchers led by Doctor Elaine Fell, to study the extraordinary climate and see if it could be used in agriculture. The only thing she learned was that the Zone was no place for people. There were deaths, and the program was cut short. Now, they're sending her back in.

Harry Bodie has a famous grandmother, who wrote beloved children's books set in the delightful world of Underhill. Harry himself is a failing kids' television presenter whose every attempt to advance his career ends in self-sabotage. His family history seems to be nothing but an impediment. An impediment . . . or worse. What if Underhill is real? What if it has been waiting decades for a promised child to visit? What if it isn't delightful at all? And what if its denizens have run out of patience and are taking matters into their own hands?

Sergeant Ted Regan has a problem. A son of one of the great corporate families, a Scion, has gone missing at the front. He should have been protected by his Ironclad - the lethal battle suits that make the Scions masters of war - but something has gone catastrophically wrong. Now Regan and his men, ill-equipped and demoralised, must go behind enemy lines, find the missing Scion and uncover how his suit failed. Is there a new Ironclad killer out there? And how are common soldiers, lacking the protection afforded the rich, supposed to survive the battlefield of tomorrow?

My name is Gary Rendell. I'm an astronaut. When they asked me as a kid what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said, "astronaut, please!" I dreamed astronaut, I worked astronaut, I studied astronaut. I got lucky; when a probe exploring the Oort Cloud found a strange alien rock and an international team of scientists was put together to go and look at it, I made the draw. I got even luckier. When disaster hit and our team was split up, scattered through the endless cold tunnels, I somehow survived. Now I'm lost, and alone, and scared, and there's something horrible in here. Lucky me.