Space Adventure Magazine and “The Derelict”

21 Jun

Avast! A short story I wrote recently – the “secret project” I’ve been alluding to of late – is finally published in Space Adventure Magazine, published by ER Mixon of Science Adventure Press! My contribution, “The Derelict,” is a science fiction horror story, that I describe as across between Lovecraft and Firefly, with a dash of Pratchett thrown in! I was rather proud of it, and I recommend that you all go out and purchase this independently published magazine so that you can read both my story and the other ones in there! It will be available on more platforms soon, but currently is available as a PDF here, for the bargain price of $2.99 USD!

And just to whet your appetite, here’s an excerpt from “The Derelict”:

“Going in – this is a big one, Reggie. Wonder what took it down.”

“Scans show very little surface damage; just an abrasion portside, near the rear. Not a large one, though – looks like it’s only a meter or two long. Nothing serious.”

“Then whatever got them came from inside,” Diana murmured.

“Aye, looks like. Probably just bad air filtration or something. But be careful anyway.”

Diana rolled her eyes. As if she was ever not careful. She finished placing the charges around the airlock’s exterior lock, and then moved a few meters down the length of the derelict ship, pulling herself along using bright orange cables that she had pinned to the hull. Once she was a safe distance away, she pressed the big red button in the center of the remote held in her right hand. The charges exploded silently, blasting open the airlock’s exterior door. The flames from the explosion managed to survive a few seconds in the outpouring of oxygen before their fuel supply was cut off and dispersed.

“Right. Time to see what we’ve got here.”

Reggie didn’t say anything as she watched Diana move back towards the now very open airlock from the safety of their ship. Her ship. The Buzzard, she was called; an apt name for what her crew did. Reggie preferred to think of her current day job as that of a recycler, making sure that nothing went to waste. More polite members of society would probably have called her a salvager, a derelict stripper, or a vulture. What she did for science.

“Is Diana in yet, cap’n?” called a voice from behind Reggie. She swiveled around in her bright orange plush chair and shook her head as a rather large man stepped onto the bridge.

“Just about though,” she added, pointing through the window behind her with her thumb. She shook her curly black hair out of her eyes. The man looked over the captain’s shoulder and nodded.

“She’s in now.”

Reggie swiveled back around again and watched Diana vanish into the airlock. Her voice came in over the communications channel a moment later. “Place seems empty – I’m in a side corridor, looks like. No signs of life – or death, even. Not here. Surprisingly clean, really…


If you want to read the rest, buy the issue!

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Posted by on June 21, 2011 in Writing


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