The vacuum of space allowed Evelyn’s hair to float freely, framing her face in spun gold. Her eyebrows and lips, animated just minutes ago with a strange amalgam of fear, wonder and curiosity, held a hint of surprise. The pale blue eyes, which had witnessed twelve years of life’s experiences, were closed; the long, blonde lashes stilled.

If not for the golf-ball sized hole in Evelyn’s forehead, she might be asleep.

It was this hole that intrigued Sandra Hapgood. She noticed that the inner brain matter had swollen, the re­sult of its moisture boiling away. If Evelyn’s eyes or mouth had been open upon her body’s ejection from the ship, they would have swelled also. But Evelyn’s death had been peaceful, and Sandra was content that she had killed her quickly.

The deck beneath Sandra’s feet trembled slightly and, with her eyes still gazing at Evelyn’s corpse, she instinc­tively began to swipe her hand across the window’s sensor pad. But she abruptly stopped and rested her palm on the thick glass. Evelyn’s hand was touching the other side, a mere four inches away; her fingernails soundlessly scraping the glass as the ship’s main thruster engines began their forward thrust.

Sandra, her face a taciturn mask, slowly peeled her hand from the glass and swiped the window’s sensor. Upper and lower solar shields noiselessly glided towards one another, steel eyelids slowly obliterating Sandra’s view.

And, as the shields winked out its sole remaining ema­nation of light, the Starship PROMETHEUS gained mo­mentum; cutting through the black velvet of space while plowing indiscriminately through the fifty-two human corpses that surrounded it.

STRANDED on Amazon US or STRANDED on Amazon UK

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