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   Chapter 14 No.14

Prodigal Sun By Christina Engela Characters: 4659

Updated: 2018-07-05 19:01

Two rather well-built and well-armed young men wearing black T-shirts and gray urban-camouflage fatigues were standing a short distance behind the Professor, respectfully a little off to each side. They did not seem to be like the nice chaps who had rescued him from the life pod, just before it finally sank in the deeper river water very close to Goodbye Point. In the manner expected of guards – or perhaps, henchmen – they held their rapid-firing sonic-pulse energy weapons at the ready – although, what it was they were ready for, he had no idea.

He knew the type of weapon – it could fire a single burst of high-energy sound across 100 meters without the ultrasonic burst losing any effect or potency. At close range, it could blast a hole the size of a football through a humanoid body, and probably still have enough latent energy left to punch a shallow crater the size of a tennis ball into a solid concrete wall behind that! The sonic bursts would only be audible by the dull whoosh it made if you were lucky enough to hear it pass you by. He really didn't like the idea of being on the receiving end of that!

Since he was at risk of 'accidentally' falling into the deep end of a swimming pool while tied to a cast-iron chair, he hoped they would be ready to jump in and save him. No, that was the overly-optimistic expectation. But they did give him the bored sort of looks that t

are not the best man for the job, Mr. Carver. The best would be on a government no-travel list, be well-known to the C.I.A. and would set off far too many alarms just by farting on the toilet, let alone by coming to Deanna. Be that as it may, I need someone from off-world to do this job, someone with the necessary skill set – and experience – that wouldn't be picked up at the space-port or appear on some passenger manifest somewhere later on and raise eyebrows. The police can be very clever, especially when they're looking for 'the best'. What I need is someone with skills – modest skills – and who has the guts to go through with it. You have quite a job coming up! It's a job nobody else can do as well as you – at least, that's your reputation, modest though it may be! Tell me – have I picked the right man?"

Carver, his mouth even more dry than before, licked his lips nervously and nodded.

"Yes sir, you did!"

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