In the Mantador zone, on the razor-cleft planet of Scyla, Humphrey stared desolately at the strothometer. Trouble was abroad. He slapped the stone console and hauled his two-elon body awkwardly onto his webbed hoofs. The vibratagraph meant the Corastians’ galactojets were less than an astraleague away. He would have to initiate the Trogon Protocol. Life was not going to be pretty for a while.
Please login below to view content or register for a 4 week FREE Trial.