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    Survival Type
    Survival Type
    Survival Type
    Ebook34 pages30 minutes

    Survival Type

    By J F Bone

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Score one or one million was not enough for the human race. It had to be all or nothing ... with one man doing every bit of scoring!
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilder Publications, Inc.
    Release dateMar 25, 2016
    ISBN9781515405412
    Survival Type

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      Book preview

      Survival Type - J F Bone

      Survival Type

      By J. F. Bone

      2016 Positronic Publishing

      Cover Image © Can Stock Photo Inc. / ktarrier

      Positronic Publishing

      PO Box 632

      Floyd VA 24091

      ISBN 13: 978-1-5154-0541-2

      First Positronic Publishing Edition

      10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

      Survival Type

      By J. F. Bone

      Score one or one million was not enough for the human race. It had to be all or nothing ... with one man doing every bit of scoring!

      *

      Arthur Lanceford slapped futilely at the sith buzzing hungrily around his head. The outsized eight-legged parody of a mosquito did a neat half roll and zoomed out of range, hanging motionless on vibrating wings a few feet away.

      A raindrop staggered it momentarily, and for a fleeting second, Lanceford had the insane hope that the arthropod would fall out of control into the mud. If it did, that would be the end of it, for Niobian mud was as sticky as flypaper. But the sith righted itself inches short of disaster, buzzed angrily and retreated to the shelter of a nearby broadleaf, where it executed another half roll and hung upside down, watching its intended meal with avid anticipation.

      Lanceford eyed the insect distastefully as he explored his jacket for repellent and applied the smelly stuff liberally to his face and neck. It wouldn’t do much good. In an hour, his sweat would remove whatever the rain missed—but for that time, it should discourage the sith. As far as permanent discouraging went, the repellent was useless. Once one of those eight-legged horrors checked you off, there were only two possible endings to the affair—either you were bitten or you killed the critter.

      It was as simple as that.

      He had hoped that he would be fast enough to get the sith before it got him. He had been bitten once already and the memory of those paralyzed three minutes while the bloodsucker fed was enough to last him for a lifetime. He readjusted his helmet, tucking its fringe of netting beneath his collar. The netting, he reflected gloomily, was like its owner—much the worse for wear. However, this trek would be over in another week and he would be able to spend the next six months at a comfortable desk job at the Base, while some other poor devil did the chores of field work.

      *

      He looked down the rain-swept

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