Read The Clock Winked (The Sagittan Chronicles Book 2) for Free Online Page A

start at eight tomorrow morning. Be
at the Council Offices with a calendar and a dozen pens.”
    The door slammed behind him.
    “Don’t be scared of him,” John said, comfortingly. “We’ve
got moles all over the place, and they’ve got moles here. So don’t worry about
it. Just do a good job. Okay?”
    “Okay.” Misty nodded, gathered up her books, and left.
    *****
    “The Globe – primarily the Interplanetary Cooperation and
Creation Committee – is in a panic, a panic fed by Lars Drake,” Officer Holder
reported via phone to Samson Lebron, who sat in his luxurious office aboard the
Meteor II Orbiting Docking Station. “No one knows why, but our moles believe
that it's just his usual overreaction. In addition, the smashed windows around
Oliphant's were the result of an improperly installed sonic security device,
but Oliphant the-god-knows-what number is in jail waiting charges of reckless
endangerment, vandalism, and a number of other charges.”
    “Why are you telling me this?”
    “I thought you might find it amusing, sir,” Officer Holder
replied.
    “I see.” Samson twirled a pencil between his fingers,
staring at it intently. “News on Rathead?”
    “He's gone. Disappeared. The riots stopped
abruptly—two days ago, mobs everywhere. Then yesterday morning no one showed
up. It’s strange. Haven't heard a peep out of him since.”
    “Damn. What's he up to?” Samson scratched the surface of his
desk with the tip of the pencil. “Do a check into Rathead's family—see if his
son is old enough to be initiated. What do the riots look like on the Salt
River?”
    “The smaller communities have settled down with a little
help from the military. The larger towns have gone guerrilla. They're hiding
from the police, but still smashing windows, setting off smoke bombs, and
spraying graffiti on every surface imaginable. They're also printing pamphlets
and leaving them everywhere.”
    “Thank you Officer. You will find you have been compensated
when you reach home tonight.”
    “Thank you, sir,” Officer Holder replied, and hung up.
    Samson leaned back and kicked his feet up on the desk. He
stared out his large window at the myriad of glittering stars that speckled the
dark sky. Rayl, the closest planet in the system, sat low on the horizon,
glowing orange as it rolled through the sky in a lazy arch over Liera.
    Marge poked her head through the door. “Chair Rizinski has
scheduled a visit two days from now. He wants a private meeting with you and a
tour of the facility.” She slipped into the room and closed the door behind
her.
    “Who is he bringing?”
    Marge looked down at her clipboard. “Heloise
Mikkelson, Arthur Robspar, and an intern.”
    “Ridiculous. Bring me some head-STOP pills, please.”
    “Of course, sir,” Marge replied. “I have the staff
preparing. Is there anything you want done specifically?”
    “Let me make some phone calls first. Thank you.”
    “Of course, sir.” Marge left,
closing the door softly behind her.
    “Stryker,” Samson stated into the phone.
    “Samson Lebron. To you to talk is my great wish.” A strange
voice answered the phone, sneering and soft, lilting and melodic. “I pleased
you have called.”
    “Who is this?” Samson demanded.
    “I your deep desire, your happy inside,
your, what they say, glorious retribution.”
    “Retribution for what? Where is
Stryker?”
    “He right here.” The phone became silent for a moment and
then a muffled thump sounded in the background. “Oh, too bad. He get too rowdy so we must quiet.” The voice
chuckled. “We need for you to do us favor, Mr. Lebron.”
    “Why?” Samson scowled.
    The voice chuckled. “You refuse, you lose more than job.”
    “What do you want?”
    “Chair Rizinski visits you this week, yes? He has new
intern. She is spy for ICCC. We need know information in her head. What is
Chair planning? What does ICCC want?”
    “Who is 'we'?” Samson demanded.
    “This is how you must see,” the