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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Euphor Unfree. Russ Playfer tangled with the Establishment when he criticised computer justice. He was in trouble again when he intervened in a move to assassinate Debra Gilbert--a personable experimental psychologist. He had a hard row to hoe, but, aided by a plump Welsh stripper and a stranded sailor, he stood in the way of the Empire Earth organisation in its fantastic bid to set up a new type of world domination. Fast-moving and full of twists, this is another angle on the possible futures for Wirral City.

eBook Publisher: Golden Apple, Wallasey, Published: UK, 1977
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2004

2 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [202 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [210 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [168 KB] , Portable Document Format (PDF) [597 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [192 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [337 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [219 KB] , hiebook (KML) [451 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [246 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [157 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [196 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [240 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [256 KB]
Words: 58789
Reading time: 167-235 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

To reach the One Handed Clap, Russ Playfer had to negotiate a good kilometre of Wirral City's sidewalks. He could have gone direct in an auto cab in three minutes flat, but that would mean filling out a blank on the metering console so that the charge could be made against his national credit serial. Within seconds of shoving the stylus back in its clip, the monitoring service of Public Security would have picked him up and the mechanical fuzz would be rattling its cogs in his car and asking what he was at.

In plain terms, he was doing his best to keep the life force surging about in his massive two-metre frame and he reckoned for a truth that he had a better chance of doing it if he could keep his part-time job discreetly out of the picture.

He had been doing it for eighteen months. Three nights a week, he was stand-in piano player in a cellar bistro which had no call to draw the harsh light of publicity on itself and whose manager, Bernie Ackerman, lived a day at a time, paying his staff in negotiable credits and asking no questions.

When Playfer was suspended from his Senior Teaching Unit and thereby reduced to subsistence rations and limited travel, his second string became a life line.

That was a month back and so far there had been no review of his case. For his money, it was a minor infringement, but it had occurred in front of some city top brass and the Director of the Unit, Horace Frampton, had been told to discipline the offender.

A group of Playfer's students had prepared a dramatic dialogue under his guidance which was to entertain the city fathers at the biannual inspection. Normally the affair was a formality. All faces wreathed in painful smiles. Tributes passed, polished and passed back.

This time, he had gone for an incident in the Troubles at the turn of the century. The year, 2003. The scene, Wirral City itself. A printer, Andrew Clarke, had stood out against the mechanisation of magistrates' courts and had published his own broadsheets to whip up public support.

It was all good stuff for getting students to talk and write. If Frampton had seen the script, he would have vetoed it right away. But for one reason or another, he only heard it fresh and subversive on the big night and paled where he sat.