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Super soldier, super spy … Alien odd job man. Gray Albern, alias agent Zero is a busy man as together with his boss and friend Geyldian, an alien clone human hybrid; they attempt to prevent humanity from making leaps which might destroy the planet or themselves.
It’s a mission the circle of Numbers

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Quinn was currently suffering through unbearable pain, he could’ve trained for another hundred years and he wouldn’t have been prepared for this. Suddenly Quinn could see his mother signing her frustration at him, a sight he’d seen so many times growing up. Each occurrence had been leading him to this moment. Quinn only had one memory which was worse than the pain he was feeling right now, and as the pair fought on, the recollection of his early life renewed his will to survive. Shaking his head free of needless recollections; Quinn’s mind was now closed. The target before him wasn’t even Zero anymore, but one of the asylum doctors who’d made Quinn so miserable back then. This was payback; and with increased vigour, Quinn fought with his remaining arm as if it were two.


The Caddy pilots all acknowledged the DC-3 and a slight adjustment was entered to the controls to avert collision, at the same time the three Thrall were curious to check out the human craft and had slowed right down, performing a steep backing turn falling into a parallel course a few hundred feet to the rear and right of the DC-3. Unbeknown to the Thrall, the box containing Ra-Sian's precious Lessingia sample had fallen over inside the hold, compressing on impact enough to dislodge the lid and shake the sample. It didn’t take long before the tiny particles of pollen shaken free from one of the particularly well advanced little yellow flowers, dispersed from the hold into the main crew cabin through a small opening in an internal bulkhead. The final push upwards was allowed by the corrective inputs the Thrall had made to begin spying on the plane. The result was not pretty. Inhaling a good breath of pollen into the two holes which were his nostrils, the first Thrall suffered an immediate boost in nasal mucous production. Following this, said Mucous was sneezed over his two compadres like gelatinous bullets. Thrall pilot number two died immediately upon impact, though it was unclear whether he was feeling disgusted or shocked; his little grey face relaxed to drop all expression seconds after death. The situation might’ve been recoverable if pilot two’s dead body hadn’t slumped forward onto the throttle, pushing it wide open. One Thrall down and at maximum velocity the shiny saucer immediately began to destabilise. It didn’t help that Pilot one sneezed again, leaning backwards quite far before unloading two more snotty projectiles at the remaining pilot, with his head still exuding thick green jelly, the first pilot finished his sneeze by head butting the third pilot, sat to his right and slightly across as he had leapt forwards to free the throttle lever from the dead body of pilot number two.


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About Author

46 years old, been writing since 2015. Was inspired to write my series of sci-fi novels after a dream which woke me up and left me quite disturbed. Find it easy to write but harder to find the time to write. Do my own covers as I am moderately artistic. Enjoying the whole experience but in no way expecting to get rich from it....more