Mind + Machine book 2
Watch this spot for information on the next space adventure featuring the crew of The Wayward Prince.
In the meantime, here’s a sneak peek of the first page of the new novel. Please note, it’s unedited and may be revised. Enjoy and I hope to have information on release dates soon:
This was supposed to have been an easy job, Sebastian thought, as he tumbled alone and untethered through space.
It was very clearly not going well, though he couldn’t pinpoint precisely where he’d gone wrong — aside from getting out of bed that morning, and on a more existential level, being born at all. Sebastian felt that he should be forgiven the self-pitying turn of his thoughts since he was very likely going to die when his spacesuit ran out of power to keep him warm and breathing. It was definitely a time to be pondering the larger questions — except that he was still spinning and on the verge of throwing up.
“Shit,” he said. Which as a last word was a bit obvious. “Fuck me to the end of time,” he managed to sputter out. A little better.
He should have been able to arrest his spin with the mini-vents that lined the spacesuit. A couple well-timed bursts of gas would change his direction, but the jets in his suit had been knocked out, likely by the same tiny meteors that had sent him spiralling out into space.
It had been a salvage job. An old and broken satellite left to drift in a wide orbit around an abandoned lunar outpost. It had likely been picked over, years ago, but pickings had been slim for Sebastian and his crew lately. Some scrap metal and maybe a few electronic components might bring in enough to keep his ship, The Wayward Prince, flying for another day, so it was worth stopping and suiting up for a space walk to check it out.
The ship! Sebastian had heard nothing from the crew other than a brief squawk of warning as the meteors had struck. It had been cut off so he assumed his comms had been knocked out along with everything else. The tiny meteoroids had been too small to be detected by their scans, and Sebastian had to hope that that meant they were also too small to do any damage to the ship. He, on the other hand, had taken a half dozen hits from the thumb-sized rocks — the suit’s automatic sealing systems had kicked in, though he didn’t know how long that would hold. He supposed he was lucky the rocks hadn’t torn right through him.
Sebastian didn’t feel lucky. He felt fatalistic, with an emphasis on the fatal part. That, and nauseous.
He was going to die out here in the dark silence of space.