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The Prophecy of Zedekiah Wight: Zedekiah Wight
The Prophecy of Zedekiah Wight: Zedekiah Wight
The Prophecy of Zedekiah Wight: Zedekiah Wight
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The Prophecy of Zedekiah Wight: Zedekiah Wight

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If ye will not believe, surely ye shall not be established.

Mitt Harris didn't sign up for the Federation border patrol to have his hands tied while murderers and child sex traffickers run roughshod over the Federation's laws. Fortunately, he has a friend who owes him a favor—a friend who answers to no one but his Maker, and has no qualm about meting out justice where justice is due.

But Zedekiah Wight has more on his mind than merely doing his friend's dirty work. He has a proposition for Mitt that will either make their friendship inseparable or lead to a parting of the ways. And because Zedekiah has no patience for moral cowardice, Mitt's decision will be final.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJoe Vasicek
Release dateJun 18, 2022
ISBN9798201768713
The Prophecy of Zedekiah Wight: Zedekiah Wight
Author

J.M. Wight

J.M. Wight is a pen name of Joe Vasicek, who writes science fiction and fantasy. As the faithful son of Utah pioneers, J.M. Wight blends science fiction with distinctly Mormon themes. Whether it's interplanetary colonization in the Millennium or the technological singularity rolling forth from the New Jerusalem, this is LDS science fiction like you've never read it before.

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    The Prophecy of Zedekiah Wight - J.M. Wight

    The Prophecy of Zedekiah Wight

    J.M. Wight

    Copyright © 2022 Joseph Vasicek.

    All rights reserved.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual persons, organizations, or events is purely coincidental.

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    The Prophecy of Zedekiah Wight

    Miguel looked up at the unfamiliar constellations of the starry night sky, from the surface of a desert planet that he already knew he hated before his shuttle had touched down. But no matter. In just a few hours, the border patrol would take him to the spaceport at San Juan Bautista, the largest planetside settlement on this world that was, in all respects, the armpit of the Federation. He’d fill out some paperwork, probably interview with one of the immigration officers, and then he’d be free to go. With luck, they’d even let him take that boy with him, too. What was his name? Pedro—yes, that was it. 

    So really, this was the hardest part of his journey back into the Federation: sitting on the rocky ground, the hot, sandy wind blowing constantly from the twilight horizon. Nuevo Matamoro was a tidally locked world, so it was a good thing that jackass pilot hadn’t screwed up and landed them on the sunward side. If it was this hot on the night side of the planet, he hated to think how unbearable it was where the sun never set.

    The plan had been to land in the desert about a hundred kilometers from San Juan Bautista, beyond the range of the border patrol’s tracking systems, and walk the rest of the way into the twilight corridor. Of course, their pilot had screwed up, and the border patrol had detected them almost as soon as they’d made planetfall. Miguel and his blood brothers had practically been dumped onto the desert floor, the pilot desperate to get back into space before the Federation officials caught him. 

    "Hey,

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