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    Insidekick
    Insidekick
    Insidekick
    Ebook49 pages45 minutes

    Insidekick

    By J F Bone

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Johnson had two secrets—one he knew and would die rather than reveal—and one he didn't know that meant to save him over his own dead body!
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPerennial Press
    Release dateMar 25, 2016
    ISBN9781531259723
    Insidekick

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      Book preview

      Insidekick - J F Bone

      INSIDEKICK

      J.F. Bone

      PERENNIAL PRESS

      Thank you for reading. In the event that you appreciate this book, please consider sharing the good word(s) by leaving a review, or connect with the author.

      This book is a work of fiction; its contents are wholly imagined.

      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 © 2016 by J.F. Bone

      Interior design by Pronoun

      Distribution by Pronoun

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Insidekick

      INSIDEKICK

      SHIFAZ GLANCED FURTIVELY AROUND the room. Satisfied that it was empty except for Fred Kemmer and himself, he sidled up to the Earthman’s desk and hissed conspiratorially in his ear, Sir, this Johnson is a spy! Is it permitted to slay him?

      It is permitted, Kemmer said in a tone suitable to the gravity of the occasion.

      He watched humorlessly as the Antarian slithered out of the office with a flutter of colorful ceremonial robes. Both Kemmer and Shifaz had known for weeks that Johnson was a spy, but the native had to go through this insane rigmarole before the rules on Antar would allow him to act. At any rate, the formalities were over at last and the affair should be satisfactorily ended before nightfall. Natives moved quickly enough, once the preliminaries were concluded.

      Kemmer leaned back in his chair and sighed. Being the Interworld Corporation’s local manager had more compensations than headaches, despite the rigid ritualism of native society. Since most of the local population was under his thumb, counter-espionage was miraculously effective. This fellow Johnson, for instance, had been in Vaornia less than three weeks, and despite the fact that he was an efficient and effective snoop, he had been fingered less than forty-eight hours after his arrival in the city.

      Kemmer closed his eyes and let a smile cross his keen features. Under his administration, there would be a sharp rise in the mortality curve for spies detected in the Vaornia-Lagash-Timargh triangle. With the native judiciary firmly under IC control, the Corporation literally had a free hand, providing it kept its nose superficially clean. And as for spies, they knew the chances they took and what the penalty could be for interfering with the normal operations of corporate business.

      Kemmer yawned, stretched, turned his attention to more important matters.

      Albert Johnson fumbled hopefully in the empty food container before tossing it aside. A plump, prosaic man of middle height, with a round ingenuous face, Albert was as undistinguished as his name, a fact that made him an excellent investigator. But he was neither undistinguished nor unnoticed in his present position, although he had tried to carry it off by photographing the actions of the local Sanitary Processional like any tourist.

      He had been waiting near the Vaornia Arm on the road that led to Lagash since early afternoon, and now it was nearly evening. He cursed mildly at the fact that the natives had no conception of time, a trait not exclusively Antarian, but one which was developed to a high degree on this benighted planet. And the fact that he was hungry didn’t add to his good temper. Natives might be able to fast for a week without ill effects, but his chunky body demanded quantities of nourishment at regular intervals, and his stomach was protesting audibly at being empty.

      He looked around him, at the rutted road, and at the darkening Vaornia Arm of the Devan Forest that bordered the roadway. The Sanitary Processional had completed the daily ritual of waste

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