Just to prove I can write something other than Sorrel, I'm going to present a short story over the next weeks. This one is hard science fiction, as opposed to the steampunk/fantasy that is Sorrel's universe.
So with no further ado, I present...
Poisoned Ice.
The singleship was dying slowly around
Anton. He tried to shut out the ship's keening wail from his ears,
and pulled his helmet into place. He checked his suit seals again;
Emerald
was trying to maintain her internal atmosphere to the end, but he
could no longer depend on her. He gazed hopelessly out of the clouded
viewport at the silent, nearly motionless hailstorm around the ship.
The rings were beautiful, and he and his poisoned ship were in their
midst. Chunks of ice the size of office blocks spun in slow, stately
majesty, the occasional collision spreading fragments of silver hail
in increasing arcs. Between the largest boulders Anton could see the
fragile loveliness of Svenskites spinning as they drank in the thin
sunlight, turning slowly in unison to focus on the distant star. The
crop here should have made him rich. He seethed, and gazed across the
ring through the poisoned wonderland towards the other singleship as
it turned its wings again to draw in the lifeforms. Even if he
expended all his air to push him towards the pirate, he would not get
there before his power expired, and he froze.
As always, comments
welcomed!
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