Reward: Stolen Planet

By Floyd Looney

A Huckster overhears a couple of bumbling space truckers (Oliver & Stanley) mention a missing planet and smells "reward" so he insinuates himself into their dilemma and they go off chasing a planet that has been stolen! Yes, a stolen planet.

A bit humorous science fiction short at 9,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Floyd Looney
• Release date: Jul 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311643056

Floyd Looney

Floyd Looney from Texas, 43, has been a science fiction fan his whole life and has been writing stories for himself since he was a child and only recently decided to try and get some of his writing published.

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Reward: Stolen Planet

by Floyd Looney

Copyright © 2015 by Floyd G. Looney

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Check out my blog:

http://flscifi.blogspot.com/

Reward: Missing Planet

Chapter One

There I was sitting at my favorite cafe, McOrbits, watching the star-ships arrive and depart while I drink my soda and a light lunch. The view of Earth is spectacular also, don't get me wrong, but the traffic that is the real reason I'm here.

This small snack shop in a space station called the Terra Stop orbiting 250 miles above Earth, it happens to be the busiest transit point in Earth' orbit. Sure, there are other space stations but this one is the latest and greatest and gets the best traffic.

That is when I overhear two guys talking a table over. It's easy to hear in the cramped spaces of the snack shop, it is the whole reason I come here so often. It's not for the prefabricated sandwiches shipped up from Texas somewhere, although those aren't too bad either. It's the jobs!

Not having regular employment I come here to listen and, okay eavesdrop, and often I can get a paying gig helping these travelers who are too busy or too unfamiliar with Earth. I have played travel agent, guide, Sherpa and even gotten windshield cleaning duties over the last several months. Getting out there in a smelly, borrowed spacesuit cleaning dirt, grime and ice off of these ships was no fun, but it paid.

Oh, by the way, my name is Mallard. No seriously, that's my name.

I pretend to eat my ham, salami and cheese sandwich but I listen intently to the conversation taking place right behind me. One of them has a voice that keeps inching up into the whiny zone. The other guy is heavier set, both of these space truckers could use a shower and shave. Which they could pay for right there at the Terra-Stop!

I'm telling you. We were at the right coordinates. the taller, thinner guy with the whinier voice said.

Impossible! his co-worker said We must have gotten the wrong coordinates that's all. We'll go back to headquarters and tell them the numbers were wrong.

The other man shook his head I've already sent them messages, they keep sending the same damn coordinates I'm telling you.

The other man talked with his mouth full of BLT "No way, man! There is no way.