Here’s a first excerpt from “The Fate of Transport 80-14,” my short story in the Christian science fiction anthology called Into The Unknown: Seven Short Stories of Faith and Bravery. This ebook is on sale for only $2.99 USD on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

This portion features the main character, Karen Liviana, and her son Darius on the ill-fated freighter.

Please let me know what you think in the comments. And if you really like it, please support me by buying a copy. Thanks!

The temperature hadn’t dropped any. And she could hear air circulating through the vents in the ceiling. Life support was still functional.

She pushed with her legs against the counter she’d been latched onto and drifted weightlessly towards a wall with a communication unit. She endured some glancing impacts from soaring pots, pans, and chopped vegetables as she passed by them. Then she grabbed and held onto the corner of a wall-height storage locker, using muscles honed from years of conditioning. Within sight of her target, she reached across and pounded the “Open Channel” button on the communications unit with her fist.

“Section Chief Liviana to Operations, we’ve lost gravity on Deck Three,” she barked. “What’s going on?”

There was a moment of static. The Communications Officer should have responded already, but they hadn’t. It took a few more seconds before she heard a response click.

“Chief, this is Commander Ennius. We’ve encountered an unknown exotic particle concentration emanating from the SNR 1727-41 nebula. It’s having a negative impact on multiple systems, including gravity in some areas.”

Ennius sounded troubled, which Karen found unusual. August Ennius was second-in-command of Transport 80-14. He was an experienced Federated Nations officer. What had him so concerned?

She got her answer when the lighting flickered, and she heard the engines stall.

“Chief, stand by for further instructions,” Ennius stated curtly. “I’m heading down to Engineering to assist.”
“Copy that, Commander.”

Sudden queasiness informed her that the internal stabilizers had gone offline. A heartbeat later, gravity harshly reaffirmed itself and the cold metal deck made a poor cushion for her stout body. There was a sharp pain on the right side of her skull as it struck the floor. She squinted hard in response.

After a few seconds’ disorientation, Karen thought she heard her son call out to her and she opened her eyes.

“A-are you okay, Darius?”

She felt his hand on her back.

“I’m fine, Mom,” he said reassuringly. “Let me help you up, okay?”
“S-Sure.”

Darius offered his hand, and she took it. A low groan escaped her lips as she got to her knees and then stood. She had to close her eyes again and lean against him for a moment.

“You’re bleeding, Mom!”