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    One Purple Hope
    One Purple Hope
    One Purple Hope
    Ebook28 pages24 minutes

    One Purple Hope

    By Henry Hasse

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Once he had been a tall, straight spaceman, free as the galaxies. Now Joel Latham was a tsith-addict, a beach-comber at Venusport. Maybe he'd get one last chance....
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJovian Press
    Release dateJan 15, 2017
    ISBN9781537816562
    One Purple Hope

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      Book preview

      One Purple Hope - Henry Hasse

      ONE PURPLE HOPE

      ..................

      Henry Hasse

      JOVIAN PRESS

      Thank you for reading. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review or connect with the author.

      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 © 2017 by Henry Hasse

      Interior design by Pronoun

      Distribution by Pronoun

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      ONE PURPLE HOPE!

      ONE PURPLE HOPE!

      ..................

      HIS SLEEP-DRUGGED MIND WAS SLOW to respond. He was lying face down, he knew that. And he ought to get up. If he didn’t get up he would drown. Something hot and heavy, like a huge hand, was pressing him deeper into the brackish mire. He pondered. Perhaps it were better to drown. For a moment he allowed himself the luxury of the thought, then decided against it. Plenty of time later for drowning. First there was something he had to do!

      So it was that Joel Latham, Earthman, age thirty, occupation space drifter, avocation tsith drinker, awakened on this most momentous of mornings.

      Moaning in protest, he slowly rolled himself over. The sun slapped him hard against the eyes. He blinked against the pain and saw that he was still in Venusport; rather he was at the edge of the swamp near the sprawling compound. Overhead the ionic field was aglow, humming softly, beating back the obscurant mists.

      He managed to stand up. Some of the pallid-faced gweels, out in the swamp, stopped their work to stare at him. Latham grimaced. Every fiber of him, especially his brain, seemed to have been squeezed dry. Then it came. He felt it coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The hammering nausea took him suddenly about the

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