JORR (Jim Able: Offworld Book 7) by Ed Charlton (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

hundred yards beyond the far corner. Jim worried about the distance they would have to travel after that. Floodlights lit the fleet and the roadway around it.

They dropped down from the edge of the lagoon onto a slope of dust and stones. They slid a few feet and sprinted into the shadow of a towering pile of wooden crates. Tamric disappeared around the pile into the dump but came back shaking his head. They turned and, keeping close to the outermost boxes, ran along the other side of the pile until they were once more in the shadows.

Tamric pointed to the bare edge of dirt where the dump had been excavated. Jim nodded, and they lowered themselves over the lip into a shallow trench between the rim and a haphazard collection of long tubes and pipes. They followed the trench around the corner of the dump until they were forced to move further in among the debris. They began to pick their way over metal canisters that threatened to shift and roll with every movement.

They rested for a while against a huge cargo container whose front had been smashed, re-forming one side into a concertina-like curve. Jim looked up at the billowing canopy overhead. It caught the lights from the base, and the reflections shimmered like water.

“It’s almost beautiful,” whispered Tamric.

“It is,” Jim sighed.

“You know, Jim, I’m learning so much from this mission. I never appreciated the peace that comes from discipline. Daum Robertus has tried to teach me this for so long, and I’m, only now, beginning to understand.”

“He said something about that...how you’re a bit of an independent thinker.”

“I hope I always will be.” He smiled in the gloom. “But I also begin to understand that as part of a community, I must sometimes do what I’m told.”

“Hmm...maybe that’s why I don’t like to join things.”

“Then you’ll never benefit from the strength that the community gives its members.”

Jim shrugged and watched the reflections some more.

After a few minutes, they picked their way along to the edge of the dump. They had missed the far corner by some distance. Before they could branch off toward the sheds, they had to backtrack along the edge. They could hear the hum of distant vehicles. A faint breeze crossed the field from the direction of the buildings. It carried the barking of a Gul officer giving orders, but he was too far away for them to make out any words. They readied themselves for the dash along the edge of the dump and across to the sheds.

As they moved out of the shadows and turned to their right, Tamric was on the outside, an arm’s length from Jim’s left shoulder. He was smiling. Jim did not understand what the monk had said about discipline or why he should be smiling. Perhaps he would have the chance to ask him later.

On the breeze came the sound of quiet voices—and a scent. The scent was familiar to Jim, but he could not immediately remember what it was. The breeze picked up a little, and the scent was suddenly stronger. It was Lak-weed.

Jim saw movement in the shadows of the sheds.

“Back under cover!” he hissed and turned back into the chaos of the dump.

Tamric crouched down; a Gul’s voice barked; and the shadows around Jim were thrust back by the flaring strikes of laser pulses.

Tamric’s body fell twisted in the dust.

The sound of voices and hurrying boots grew louder. Jim rolled himself down into an empty cylinder and cowered, hanging onto its rim by his fingers.

“What is it?” said a voice.

“A spy! They were right; there was one around here!”

Several voices whooped and congratulated each other.

“This is great.”

“Good shooting, Ruk!”

“We’ll get a bonus for this!”

For Jim, life shrank to the beating of his heart, the pain in his fingers, and the rough material of the cylinder pressing against his nose. There was nothing he could do. He had seen Tamric fall. He could still see the afterimages of the shots burned into his retina. He was aware of how small he was and how far it was to Earth. He was sick and alone on a dying planet. A few feet away were keen-sighted, sharp-nosed, drug-taking killers.

Oh God, don’t let them find me!

Jim gripped the edge of the cylinder even tighter and turned his cheek to the rough surface, trying to make himself smaller.

“Sure you didn’t see anything else?”

“No, just this one monkey-thing.”

“Where did it come from?”

“Maybe it was hiding in a crate?”

“We should torch this lot. I always thought dumping this stuff was a bad idea.”

“Where do we take the body?”

“Let’s take it straight to the Raeff’s office. Get a plastic sheet! I don’t want it bleeding all over the seats.”

“You sure it’s dead?”

There was a single laser pulse.

“Well, if it wasn’t, it is now!”

Next Time

Our story continues in

STRIKE

Episode 8 of JIM ABLE: OFFWORLD,

where the Gul Raeff’s plans are revealed

but will either Jim or Tella survive to thwart them?

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JIM ABLE: OFFWORLD

Episode 8, Strike

Jim Able: Offworld - Strike

Review

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If you’ve enjoyed this book, let others know they might like it too.

Please write a short review.

Thanks!

EC

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https://www.amazon.com/review

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Three very different books. One epic sci-fi tale.

Theo and his publisher friend Curt are the only humans aware of the danger

from the Aleronden empire.

But who can topple an empire?

Who else?

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The Aleronde Trilogy

What people are saying...

“The Problem with Uncle Teddy’s Memoir is a tantalizing, disturbing little story, carefully and lovingly designed to maximize suspense and provoke thought.”

-IndieReader. 4 Stars

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Saint John’s Ambulatory “Mystery and Mayhem”

“This author weaves an interesting web of mystery! St. John’s Ambulatory is a great read for those whom are drawn to the unknown, specifically when it comes to whether or not time and place exist objectively or simply as human constructs. The reader spends each chapter wondering what more will be revealed about the ambulatory, and what – or who – is within its dark expanse.”

Amazon Reviewer—March 9, 2021

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Aleronde the Great

This trilogy was a lot of fun to