by submission | Aug 4, 2017 | Story |
Author : Sean Wilkins
On a star-laden beach near a rocky shore, wrinkled hands held, step in step toward a monolithic solar-tower. Mason felt the rounded edge of the tower, remembering the years, and was sad it had no use anymore. Alla watched the storm rolling in over a dark sea. He gripped her hand tight; thunder on the horizon.
Alla remembered the story he used to tell, when he bought the place, and how cheap it was. Mason told it again, and she listened, happily. She thought of the wedding they had on the beach: her dress and the beard he let out; the flowers and the guests; the food and the music and the air they all breathe. He didn’t mind if his family showed up, forgetting to invite his father entirely.
She watched the storm brew, lightning flashes over the water; him, the dead collector of light with no one left to see it. Shuttles broke the atmosphere, ahead of the storm. It was almost time to leave forever, she dreaded to tell him. In the sand were memories, where the children grew up, and they grew old. She still worried about them, so far from home, and knew he did too.
Near the cityscape, shuttles landed to whisk them away. He didn’t want to leave, and she couldn’t without him. He had stood by her side, through boring astrophysics conferences, and then the cancer. She had stood by his, from one editor to the next, another manuscript rejected.
They began their walk back toward the beach house, and shuttles in the distance. He wondered what they would be like. She liked to think cerebral. She remembered the day they made first contact, from the little orange star that takes light years to travel. She remembered the divide they all felt, some euphoria, others panic. Some scientists, others theologians.
Hand in hand, he joked what they looked like. He said tentacles with ganglion arms; she said cosmic vessels of light and star-stuff, with an intellect that dwarfed their own.
He told her it wouldn’t matter, as long as they had each other. She admitted hesitation, to leaving their home. She had spent her life on this planet, with him. It had never occurred to her to imagine she would die on another world.
They approached the beach house, one last time. Inside, they had holidays and movie nights. Outside, a truck pulled up to take them away.
“It’s time,” she told him.
“Okay,” he knew, tears in his eyes.
They climbed into the truck, the storm in the rear view.
“Mrs. Debroux, I’m a big fan,” the Alliance officer said.
The truck rumbled down the dirt road, away from everything they had come to know. Alla looked into the sky, at the tiny speck called Earth. She thought of the people who were in her shoes then, and the things they must have felt. She imagined how many were uprooted and scared; how many thought of this once red planet as alien.
Now they were to do it all again. Begin somewhere new. She didn’t know if she had it in her, gripping his hand tight.
The truck let them out; the shuttle doors were open. They found their seats, among the old and restless. The shuttle took off, toward their new home around the little orange star.
by submission | Aug 2, 2017 | Story |
Author : David Henson
I was working in the lab late one night. My assistant Igorbot had left, but there was nothing for me to go home to since Loretta had moved out.
Left alone, I’d poured myself into my work even more than usual. We were on the verge of a breakthrough in transference. Tomorrow, Igorbot and I would conduct a frog-hamster mind swap. I should’ve been excited, but without Loretta it didn’t seem to matter. I had a shot of Adrastean Absinthe from the bottle I kept in my desk. Then I had a couple more. Then I had a bright idea.
My memory is a bit hazy — did I mention I’d had four or six shots of AdAb? — but for some reason I decided to get a jump on tomorrow’s experiment. I put the electrodes on the frog and the hamster. Then I had a couple or four more shots of AdAb. Then I thought — what the hell, the quantum implants provide more than enough capacity — and took the electrodes off the hamster. I started to attach them to my own temples, but I apparently had another idea. At least I have no other explanation for how the window got open. I do remember thinking — who wants to be a frog cooped up in a laboratory. The next thing I knew, I was hopping around my human body, which was crouched in the corner and drunkenly poking out its tongue. And I had an irresistible urge to get to the pond in Marsha’s Marsh on the other side of Konami Highway.
It’s a busy road. Traffic all night. The first time I tried to cross, I was nearly squashed by a lory, but I still felt I had to get to that pond. There was an opening, and I made it halfway across the eastbound lanes. Then I saw lights bearing down on me, backtracked, and froze as tires passed on both sides. There was another break, and off I hopped. I finally made it to the other side in fits and starts.
The pond was heaven. A symphony of frogs and crickets. The gentle splashes of surfacing fish — trout, I think. The water reflected a full moon, and a soft breeze rustled through the reeds. I just sat there on a lily pad and took it all in. I could’ve stayed all night, but knew I should get back in my own body.
At the road, there were flashing red lights everywhere, and traffic was at a standstill. As I was crossing, I heard a guy tell a police officer “I saw him bent down beside the road. Then he just … hopped.” I got a sinking feeling and looked at the mangled body on the pavement. Sure enough.
I started jumping up and down frantically, but nobody paid any attention till one of the cops kicked at me. I weighed my options. I could’ve gone back to the lab and waited for Igorbot, possibly got him to connect the dots. But then what? Put my mind in cyberspace or even a bot? Somehow that didn’t feel right. I was just so drawn to the pond in Marsha’s Marsh.
So here I am, croaking away on my favorite lily pad, happier than I’ve been in years. I especially love the fireflies — my own universe of twinkling stars. And they taste just like chicken.
by submission | Jul 31, 2017 | Story |
Author : Samuel Stapleton
Classified Hearing AF:145-34a C3
Interviewer: Charles Witcomb
“If you could go back commander, would you alter your decision?”
“No.”
“I’m going to note for the record that you didn’t even seem to reconsider…”
“I don’t need too. If I hadn’t swallowed that planet, they would’ve swallowed us.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Did you study much history in schoolnet?”
“As much as is normal I suppose, why?”
“How much do you remember about the Cold War between America and the USSR?”
“I recall that it wasn’t much of a war.”
“Correct. Because of MAD.”
“Mutually assured destruction?”
“Precisely. Both sides had a nuclear stockpile capable of taking out the other in a retaliatory attack. Therefore launching an offensive would inevitably lead to self destruction.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with this hearing commander?”
“I’ve been court martialed based on my decision to wipe out an entire alien species. I’m explaining my reasoning behind.”
I motioned for him to continue.
“If we continue my historical comparison we must admit that nuclear arms and the power they represent is now an infinitesimal speck in terms of the military capability that humans and other alien species hold. Worm-black-holes mean that MAD is no longer an option. If you’re attacked, there is no chance to retaliate. Destruction is complete and instantaneous and your species is ended. If humanity is to survive the inevitable encounters we are going to have in the future, we must change our military strategy to match these facts. We must seek in order to find before we ourselves are found, and we must attack immediately with the intention to fully obliterate all life besides ourselves. We no longer have the luxury of holding onto hope of any kind. One wrong decision and humanity ends. Personally I think it would be a tragedy for our species to have survived millions of years on Earth only to be wiped out by our own kindness once we began reaching into the cosmos.”
“And this is how you justify specicide?”
“I didn’t say it was justified, I only said it was necessary….”
I had no words for the monster who sat across from me. Or the monster within myself that was quietly agreeing with him.
“Ironic, isn’t?”
“What’s that?”
“That we spent our few last centuries on Earth desperately trying to preserve the biosphere and save the species we had been wiping out. And now that we have left our solar system we will be desperately trying to wipe out every species we come across to preserve the galaxies for ourselves.”
“No one said we were adopting your military strategy commander.”
“No one has to. That’s the great thing about humanity corporal, we are so very good at looking the other way when we need too. And since we can’t look back, we’ll look forward to all that…empty space.”
by submission | Jul 30, 2017 | Story |
Author : George R. Shirer
The alien wore a red flower in her hair. It was vibrant against her pale hair.
“What do you think of her?” asked Jon.
“I don’t know.”
Jon gave me an incredulous look. “What do you mean? You don’t know?”
“Honestly. I don’t know. I mean, I’ve heard the stories, but the reality is so . . .”
“Different?”
“Yes.”
Jon laughed, patted my shoulder. “You just need to get closer.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see,” said Jon.
With a gentle shove, he propelled me toward the alien woman. She had been standing near the entry, scanning the room with crystal blue eyes. I noticed the crowd swirl around her, people glancing at her. Some seemed curious, while others appeared envious or agitated. The alien, for her part, seemed completely at ease.
As I drew near, I noticed something peculiar. A subtle scent, impossible to describe with any accuracy. It was pleasant, but like nothing I’d ever smelt before. My pulse quickened, my breath caught in my throat.
The alien turned to me and smiled. Her teeth were small and blunt, evenly spaced inside the chasm of her mouth. She had painted her lips an electric blue. As far as I could tell that was her one concession to cosmetics.
I was about to speak to her when our host, Jakk, appeared. He slid up to the alien and lay his arm, possessively, across her bare shoulders.
“Mica! So good to see you! I wasn’t sure you would make it!” Jakk’s voice was loud and high.
“How could I stay away, Jakk? Your parties are legendary.”
“You flatter me,” said Jakk, but did not bother denying it. He turned his smile to the alien woman. “Have you met Venus?”
“I was about to introduce myself.”
“Well, allow me to do it for you. Venus, this is my friend, Mica. Mica, this is Venus.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, formally inclining my head.
“The pleasure is all mine,” said Venus. Her accent was a little strange, but she spoke our language very well.
This close, I realized that the beguiling scent I’d detected earlier was rising from the alien’s skin. I fancied I could almost see it, a faint cloud of luminous particles.
Jakk made some excuse and gently led Venus into the party’s whirl. I watched the crowd, noting the subtle jockeying of the men to move closer to the alien. As she passed by, I observed that many people were taking deep breaths, men and women.
“Well?” said Jon. He’d sidled up behind me with a pair of drinks.
I plucked one from his hand and took a tentative sip. “She’s very . . .”
“I know,” said Jon. “Her entire species is like that.”
“Really?”
“I heard the effect from the males is stronger.”
“How do they get anything done?” I wondered.
“It doesn’t affect them, just everyone else they meet,” said Jon.
I shook my head in wonder. “Humans.”
Jon just grinned and nodded his understanding.
by submission | Jul 29, 2017 | Story |
Author : Anamarija Slatinec
An oppressive light is shining into my face and it jolts me out of my sleep. A thought hits me hard before my eyes are even open.
“It’s Inspection Day” I say aloud. Every month it feels like it has come around sooner than the last. You start working your assigned field and everything just gets heavier, blurrier around the edges, like someone’s taken a squeegee to your entire life. Every month since my 18th birthday I’ve taken the test. That was 5 years ago. Today marks Inspection Day 61.
I’m a Reader for the Information Defenses Department. Since the worldwide terrorist information hack of 2021 it was established that all information would be monitored by the government for the purpose of preventing any future attacks and eliminating crime. Giving up our privacy seemed a small price to pay. My job as a Reader is to evaluate every piece of information that crosses my desk and flag anything outside of the authorised government outlines.
I shake the sleep off and realise that I’m not in my room. I try to sit up but I’m held in place. My arms are strapped down to a foreign bed. It’s hard to tell with this blinding light in my face. I try to look around but the rest of the room is encased in darkness. Why can’t I remember how I got here?
A deadbolt clicks on a metal door a short distance away and footsteps echo towards me.
“Identify yourself!” I feel the panic rising inside me.
I realise I’ve been biting my lip when I taste the metallic tang of blood. My head is throbbing and I’m racking my brain for some shred of memory before this dark room. All that swirls around my head is Inspection Day.
I keep repeating it, turning it over, hoping it will tell me something.
The footsteps have reached me and they are accompanied by a pair of slate grey eyes. A cold washes over me.
“State your name for the record” the voice says.
“Wanda Reader.”
“And why were you chosen as a Reader Wanda?” He says it in a way that’s clear he already knows the answer.
“I tested with a high aptitude in English sir.” My grandmother used to say that I have a creative soul, which now means I’m skilled in dealing with the ambiguity of the truth for the rest of my life.
“What do you remember from today Wanda?”
“I was hoping you would be able to tell me, sir.”
“What is something you are certain of?”
“Today is Inspection Day.” When I say it this time the memory hits me like a bullet.
“The Hull…” I remember walking into the colossal dome-like structure of The Hull where all Inspection Day tests are carried out. I remember thinking, as I always do, how much darker it is inside than you would expect from a structure made almost entirely out of glass.
“I was at The Hull for my Inspection Day appointment. But that means…”
I feel the familiar cold sensation of the probes on my head before I see them.
Keeping your pulse steady is tough but not unbearable.
Not dilating your pupils during a lie is difficult but not impossible.
Not knowing your fate until your results are back is excruciating.
“I can see that by now you have figured out that your test results from today came back… unsatisfactory.”
This is the part where my blood turns to ice. This is no prison. This is something far worse.
“Welcome to Cognitive Recalibration.
