Season’s Greetings to all. Have a lovely Christmas and a Great New Year.
For those who haven’t read absorbing short stories Him at Number Three or The Emu and the Orange, here are the links to read the tales when you can find a few quiet moments to yourself over the festive season:
And a reminder, if you have not done so already, you can get short story collection Silently in the Night for free, simply by subscribing to my monthly newsletter at the bottom of the landing page at: https://claytongraham.com.au/
You can, of course, unsubscribe at any time.
And here’s a small excerpt [as yet unedited] from my latest book, the third in the Milijun Series, to be published in 2022:
EXCERPT FROM ‘MILIJUN BOOK 3’: Laura Sinclair explores the defunct military base at Eucla
Laura stood there for a full minute, her flashlight catching dust motes in the air. What she really wanted was some evidence of Nomi’s long-ago presence; some unwritten signature that she may have unwittingly left behind. Nomi was, after all, the keeper of the secrets of Milijun! Had no doubt used them to push for alien collaboration on Mars! And she had succeeded, for the Martian base was named after her.
Laura recalled her remembrance plaque on Mars:
In commemoration of the founding of Millison
Colonel Norma Millison, known as Nomi
Gracious founder and leader
May she find peace among the stars
Came to us: 2160 Left us: 2256
She estimated that Nomi would have reached the rank of colonel over a period of twenty years or more, somewhere around 2200, and that would likely have been the time she had been given the authority to plan for Mars. But was that from Eucla or elsewhere?
If she could find an office with Nomi’s name on it that would indicate the base was shut down after she attained the rank of colonel. However, the more Laura thought about it, the more she realised that Nomi had probably left here long before the base’s closure. The building was dilapidated, but did not look like it had been abandoned for nigh on a century. But where had she gone to?
Laura pursed her lips. She didn’t want to spend much longer in this dismal, old military bastion, but she thought a survey of the officers’ headquarters was worth undertaking. If she found nothing, then nothing was lost.
She went back into the corridor, trained her torch to the right—and heard a noise. She immediately switched off the light, kept perfectly still, and listened intently. There it was again. Voices, echoing eerily down the corridors, and not too far away. Her hand instinctively went for her laser.
There was the sound of approaching footsteps; more than one person, she was sure. She stepped back inside Ord’s old office, pocketed the torch, and held the gun in front of her with both hands. Men conversing, and coming her way. Who are they? What on Earth are they doing here?
Through the half-open door, Laura could see torchlight dancing on the floor of the corridor. Was the door ajar when she came? Relief flooded her mind as she recalled that it was, but maybe not as much as it was now. Will they notice? Shall I close it more?
It was too late. She went behind the door and held her breath.
The footsteps stopped. Light played into the office, swept across the floor. She looked down. Jesus aid me. Footsteps in the dust, her footsteps.
Laura moved back from the door. If they push it hard, I will be crushed.
They had gone silent, and she knew they were about to enter the office. She retrieved the torch, holding the laser pistol in her right hand. Then she swept the door fully open and yelled: “I’m armed! Stay where you are!”