Featured Author: Jim Webster

I'm happy to feature author Jim Webster today. He's here to talk about his newest book, Justice 4.1, a science-fiction/space opera novel, published by Safkhet Fantasy, and he brought along an excerpt from the book.

Interview with Jim Webster:

Jim, how long have you been writing, and how did you start?

Some time in the mid 1970s, but I was mainly writing magazine and news paper articles as a freelance.

What’s the story behind the title Justice 4.1?

It wasn’t the initial title, so I might use that one somewhere else. We wanted something snappier, something which captured some of the underlying themes of the book. So Justice seemed to fit. But I added the 4.1 to help drive home the idea that they’d been trying to get it right for a while and who knows whether the current version work properly.

Do you have another job outside of writing?

I farm, I’m a freelance journalist/writer, I’ve done consultancy. 

Tell us a book by an indie author for which you’re an evangelist.

I really like the Banned Underground series by Will Macmillian Jones. The series grows and deepens as you get into it, and I think that in Bass Instinct he reached a whole new level.

What book are you currently reading and in what format (e-book/paperback/hardcover)?

Paperback, I’m reading The Wrong Stuff, K'Barthan Trilogy: Part 2 by MT McGuire.
The next one in the trilogy is expected soon so I’m making sure I’m ready for it.

What would your dream office look like?

It wouldn’t have me in it.

What are you working on now?

I’ve written the second book about the Tsarina Sector. It’s with the editor, and I’m working on the third. 

Excerpt from Justice 4.1

The flitter was hardly luxurious. It was a spacious workhorse with just enough concessions to comfort to deter personal injury claims from those who hired it. At the moment, it loitered over the northern highlands of the Border Kingdoms at a safe altitude. To their north, the highlands rose steadily until they became snow-capped and were lost in the clouds. Below them was a jumbled badlands of gorges and ridges, twisted rock, frost-shattered and crumbling. Wheeling below them was a pair of great four-winged aradons, keen-eyed carrion feeders. In the distance, perhaps five miles away, Kilonwin Kardoverin could just make out what might be another pair. As far as he could tell, they were the only signs of life in sight. He looked down; even with vision enhancers, the ridges showed virtually no sign of life. He counted three stunted bushes with occasional blades of grass poking through the loose scree.

Kardoverin strapped himself into the co-pilot seat and fiddled with the camera array, determined to get as much footage as possible. Kardoverin had a reputation in the industry as one of the best documentary makers in the sector. This reputation was based on arrogance, a casual disregard for personal safety, and painstaking camera work. He was reputed to get five times as much material as was needed, even for top quality holo work. He turned to the pilot. "Can we get lower? I'd like to film into those gorges."

"Why?"

"Well, there's damn all up here."

"Why not zoom?" The pilot sounded nervous.

"They're in heavy shadow."

"Look, this is the Border Kingdoms, it isn't safe."

Kardoverin adjusted the central rig and raked the peripheral arrays so that they covered both flanks.

"Take us down fast; we'll be through and out."

"They're barbarians! They shoot at people."

"With black powder weapons." Kardoverin's tone was dismissive as he checked the satellite relay. It seemed to be working perfectly. "Look, just go in, one quick fly-through. It isn't as if I'm asking you to land, or even hover."

The pilot muttered something blasphemous under his breath and brought the flitter round. "I'll take us up that gorge on the left, it's narrower. Being so overcast, it's less likely to be inhabited."

He opened the throttle and brought the bow of the flitter sharply down. The clumsy craft accelerated rather faster than Kardoverin had expected, and he hastily checked the camera focus. This model of vehicle was effectively a rectangular box which flew and had little consideration of style. But for his purposes, the open top meant it had been comparatively easy to fit the cameras. The pilot brought them down sharply, heading south, gaining speed as he lost altitude. Then suddenly, he spun the controls and the flitter turned and banked so sharply Kardoverin felt himself hanging in the harness. Then the pilot pointed the nose of his craft straight into the mouth of the gorge, still dropping and gaining speed. As they entered between the towering rock walls, they were barely twenty feet above the ground and moving faster than Kardoverin would have believed possible. Kardoverin kept his eyes on the monitors, running his fingers over the controls in front of him, altering the zoom, the angle, the filters. They were deep in the gorge now and the boxy craft was travelling at breakneck speed. Kardoverin constantly re-adjusted the controls. "Isn't this a bit fast?"

The pilot's answer came through clenched teeth. "If I could go faster, I would. I want us out of here and—" He paused. "Oh hell, we are in deep—"

There was a staccato rattle of automatic weapons fire from one side. The burst struck the pilot, jerking his body against the seat harness. Kardoverin tore his gaze from the monitors and looked towards where the noise had come from. The second burst hit the front of the flitter, and the engine began to whine. Kardoverin frantically unbuckled his harness and stood up to reach over the pilot's body for the controls. The third burst struck him in the chest, spun him round and left him draped over the side of the flitter. Thirty seconds later, with no one at the controls, the flitter struck the rock wall of the gorge and exploded.

About the author:

Jim Webster is probably fifty something, his tastes in music are eclectic, and his dress sense is rarely discussed in polite society. In spite of this he has a wife and three daughters.

He has managed to make a living from a mixture of agriculture, consultancy, and freelance writing. Previously he has restricted himself to writing about agricultural and rural issues but including enough Ancient Military history to maintain his own sanity. But seemingly he has felt it necessary to branch out into writing fantasy and Sci-Fi novels.

He lives in South Cumbria (which is in England)and thus he normally writes in English. Exposure to an editor who understands this sort of thing means he's managed to adapt to US spelling in his Sci-Fi.

Connect with Jim:
Goodreads

Buy the book:
Amazon