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Pet Farm
Pet Farm
Pet Farm
Ebook27 pages22 minutes

Pet Farm

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The next worst thing to hell is being shanghaied into the Paradise of an alien planet!
LanguageEnglish
PublisherJovian Press
Release dateJan 15, 2017
ISBN9781537816623
Pet Farm

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    Book preview

    Pet Farm - Roger Dee

    PET FARM

    ..................

    Roger Dee

    JOVIAN PRESS

    Thank you for reading. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review or connect with the author.

    All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

    Copyright © 2017 by Roger Dee

    Interior design by Pronoun

    Distribution by Pronoun

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Pet Farm

    PET FARM

    ..................

    THEY HAD FLED ALMOST TO the sheer ambient face of the crater wall when the Falakian girl touched Farrell’s arm and pointed back through the scented, pearly mists.

    Someone, she said. Her voice stumbled over the almost forgotten Terran word, but its sound was music.

    No matter, Farrell answered. They’re too late now.

    He pushed on, happily certain in his warm euphoric glow of mounting expectancy that what he had done to the ship made him—and his new-found paradise with him—secure.

    He had almost forgotten who they were; the pale half-memories that drifted through his mind touched his consciousness lightly and without urgency, arousing neither alarm nor interest.

    The dusk grew steadily deeper, but the dimming of vision did not matter.

    Nothing mattered but the fulfillment to come.

    Far above him, the lacy network of bridging, at one time so baffling, arched and vanished in airy grace into the colored mists. To right and left, other arms of the aerial maze reached out, throwing vague traceries from cliff to cliff across the valley floor. Behind him on the plain he could hear the eternally young people playing about their little blue lake, flitting like gay

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