A fragment from today's NaNoWriMo effort. (As before, it's unedited, unpolished, etc, and may not make it into the finished novel.)
This is from Hal Spacejock book 5, not Hal Junior!
Hal sailed across the surface of the asteroid, watching it fall away beneath him. The further he travelled the darker it got, and before long he'd be invisible to the others. Would Clunk be able to round him up in the Volante? Could the ship's sensors pick up an insignificant human sailing through space? It didn't seem likely, even if he waved his arms and flashed for all he was worth.
Splot!
Something whacked him in the rear, a painful blow like a whip across the back of his leg. Hal was still recovering when his peaceful flight ended in a vicious tug. The suit tightened, and his eyes crossed as someone applied the biggest space-wedgie in the history of the universe.
There was another tug, then another, and when Hal looked down he discovered he was moving backwards. They were reeling him in like a prize catch! He crossed his arms, resigned to the embarrassing spectacle, and only unfolded them when he was deposited on the landing platform. When he twisted to inspect the damage he saw the safety line attached to his suit with a big dollop of instant glue. "Gee, thanks Clunk. Did you have to shoot me in the arse?"
"I merely aimed for the biggest target."
Sandy snorted.
"It was also the least likely to suffer permanent damage," said Clunk, who was struggling to keep a straight face. He snipped the safety line, leaving the blob behind. In the gloom it looked like a giant barnacle attached to Hal's right buttock. "If your pride was the only casualty ..."
"Yes, all right. Can we get on with it?"
"Certainly. Only this time perhaps you could use the railing?"
Simon Haynes is the author of the Hal Spacejock and Hal Junior series (Amazon / Smashwords / other formats)
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