Explore "Feet of Clay" by Robert Hoskins on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"The problem," said Cassidy, "would seem to be simple." He thumped his outsized knuckles against the desk. "Almost too simple."
"Why?" The other was a wearer of the black and silver uniform of Extrasol Traders; a short man, made shorter by the beer-barrel shape of his body and the extreme width of his shoulders. His head was capped with close-cropped gray curls.