by submission | Aug 6, 2023 | Story |
Author: Daniel Aceituna
“This must be the place,” the police chief said, as the motorcade arrived at the address the time traveler had given them.
The traveler jumped out of the car, “Quickly, we must get into that apartment; billions of future lives hang in the balance.”
After breaking down the door, they rushed into the empty apartment and found an ironing board with an iron lying on it.
“That’s it!” The time traveler knelt and unplugged the iron.
He then stood up, pressed a button on his belt, and said, “Your descendants thank you,” as he faded away.
Moments later, they received a call from the president’s office. Another time traveler had showed up.
A half-hour later, they arrived at the same apartment.
“That’s it!” the new time traveler said. She knelt under the ironing board and plugged in the iron.
“Billions are in your debt,” She said, pressing a button on her wristband. She faded away.
“Chief, the president’s on the phone.”
“Sure. Let me guess.”
by submission | Aug 5, 2023 | Story |
Author: W.F. Peate
“No regrets using the hydrogen bomb General?” asked the reporter.
“We saved lives. Their surrender stopped further bloodshed.”
“Why didn’t you use the less destructive atomic bomb? Ninety percent fewer deaths.”
General Liana crossed her arms over the silk leashes of her medals. “The Americans needed two atomic bombs to convince the Japanese to surrender in 1945. We were one and done with hydrogen. “
“Gave the Americans a taste of their own medicine,” said the reporter with a snort. He pressed Send. “All our people and two billion in the occupied territories are hearing your words now.”
“Long live the Supreme Leader,” they said in unison.
A slice of light brighter than a thousand suns baked the building. The stink of burning insulation made the reporter cough so hard he brought up a piece of lung.
“Elevators are out,” said Captain Gran, her intelligence officer. “Massive solar flare. Strongest on record. AI says our planet is requesting the Sun destroy us because we’re destroying Earth with nuclear weapons.”
The general lifted an eyebrow. “Heavenly bodies talk?”
“In 2017 the Cassini spacecraft recorded an exchange between Saturn and its moon Enceladus. NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory converted the energy into something we could hear. Just like an antenna converts radio waves into a Sting song.”
Liana touched the yarn bracelet her three year old daughter Eden made in daycare one floor below. Her heart sank when she recalled Sting’s lyrics from the song Russians:
“How can I save my little boy/From Oppenheimer’s deadly toy?”
Gran read Liana’s worried look. “Eden is safe. I called daycare.”
He read the translated transcript:
Earth: “Mother Sun, lice are burning my crust with fusion fire
Mother Sun: How many nuclear explosions?”
Earth: “2,045.”
Mother Sun: Comet trash. Let me burn off your lice.”
Mercury: “Remember the last time Mother burned one of us. Asteroida’s bones float between Mars and Jupiter.”
Mother Sun: “I’ve learned since then. I got Uranus and Neptune back in orbit.”
Uranus and Neptune: “Thank you Mother Sun. Blessed be Thee.”
Earth: “Mother get rid of my lice.”
Liena sagged into the chair next to Gran. He put his hand in hers. “Little Eden will die if we don’t do something.”
“Send Mother Sun a message that we won’t ever use nuclear bombs again.”
The reporter grumbled, “Maybe we don’t deserve to survive as a species. Mother Sun may have a screw loose. She destroyed one of her own children.”
“She fixed two planets’ orbits,” said Liana with a firm voice.
“Where will you say you got permission to do this?” asked the reporter.
“Uranus.”
Gran laughed as he typed and sent: “Mother Sun, we won’t ever use nuclear bombs again.”
Mother Sun: “Who are you?”
“The lice,” said Gran.
Mother Sun: “How can I trust you not to ever use my fire?”
“I am a mother with a child,” said Liana.
Flares in the sky enflamed then went dark.
“Elevators are on again.”
Eden sat on Gran’s knee. “Mommy where have you and Popsicle been? Can you make me French toast? Mommy what’s wrong?“
Liana stared out the window. “What have I done? I let children die. We can’t get them back. How horrible a thought. We have to save other children.”
Gran’s forehead furrowed, “Are you okay?”
“No. They’re gone. Millions of them. The other children out there. The other children. I have to help . . .”
The evening sun settled deep in the purple-orange horizon. Liana in her head heard Mother Sun say, “Together we’ll keep the others in safe orbit.”
by submission | Aug 4, 2023 | Story |
Author: Vruti Naik
Captivated by the ancient tales of Atlantis and its enigmatic creatures, Dr Alan was determined to unravel the mystery and locate the fabled city. He had developed a ground-breaking technology – a program capable of holographic reconstruction, tapping into something known as elemental and environmental memory.
Gathering a skilled crew for his expedition, Dr Alan’s excitement was dampened by his wife’s scepticism. Being a historian, she regarded Atlantis as a mere myth. However, Alan was fuelled by a deeper motivation, one he hadn’t shared with anyone: his belief in parallel dimensions.
He was convinced that his technology could bridge the gap between our reality and an invisible parallel realm. By doing so, he hoped to make the mystical creatures and the lost city visible to the entire world, proving its existence to all those who denied it.
However, he was aware of the dangerous gamble he was undertaking. Manipulating time and space could have unpredictable consequences, a small wrinkle in time could change his reality and that of this entire world. And hence he made sure all his calculations were accurate.
After a long and arduous journey, they arrived at the suspected location, hidden deep within the vast desert, far from civilization. As the team set up the machines, anticipation filled the air. Dr Alan encouraged his crew with a final pep talk, and they initiated the holographic reconstruction program.
A blinding light enveloped them, and they felt as though they were warping through space at an incredible speed. Within seconds, everything came to a halt. When they opened their eyes, their amazement knew no bounds – there stood what looked like the lost city of Atlantis, resplendent in its ancient glory just like in the tales. Dr Alan couldn’t contain his joy and danced like a child who had discovered a wondrous treasure.
Yet, the jubilation was short-lived when one of the scientists noticed their chopper was missing. Panic set in, but soon a faint voice echoed in the distance. As it grew nearer, a figure emerged, wielding a trident – a tall, imposing creature. “Welcome to Atlantis,” the being declared with a bright smile.
Suddenly, a horde of creatures materialized behind their leader, charging toward Dr. Alan and his crew. Fear gripped them as they realized their lives were in grave danger. In a matter of seconds, the fearsome creatures devoured every trace of the humans, leaving no evidence behind.
The leader, with a wicked smile, pointed towards the holographic machine. “Are you hungry for more?” he taunted as if the breach between dimensions had unleashed a malevolent force.
by submission | Aug 3, 2023 | Story |
Author: David Penn
On this planet in the Emerson V system, sardonically named Jacob’s Ladder by its first explorers, the dominant species looks superficially like an Earth stick insect. However, these creatures are as large as our blue whales, have ten minutely-jointed legs, each ending in an eye, and mouths which operate more like ancient vacuum cleaners than an insect’s mandibles. The ‘climbers’, as the first visiting team called them, have developed a rudimentary civilization amidst an extraordinary landscape: around the equatorial region of their world, vast plates of rock thrust miles upwards through the atmosphere, their outer edges running parallel with the line of the equator, so that the planet from space appears circled with a jagged ridge of rocky fins. On each side of this range, north and south, runs an impenetrable band of thick cloud, which produces constant lightning storms.
The climbers live on the very top of the plates, and on bridges which they have built between them – and at that only on the innermost peaks since, with good reason, they fear the storms that rage either side. They move by grasping hold of the rocky edges and hauling themselves along, or by slinging themselves under their slender bridges, which are composed of strands of the only material which the climbers have ever used for construction: their own dead bodies, held together by their saliva, which when spat out develops extremely powerful adhesive qualities. The corpses of any who have freshly died are first pulped – by specialised members of the community – into a paste, to which the saliva is added. Before this mixture hardens – which it does into a tensile chitin-like material with more than the strength of steel – it is flung out between the rock plates in a technique analogous to that of Earth spiders’ web-spinning.
The death rate among these rather graceful and even beautiful beings is pitifully high. Even with their many delicate and agile legs, it is easy for them to slip off the rock plates or bridges into the gulf below. How far that gulf descends, or what is at its bottom, none of the creatures know, because not one of them has ever been there and returned alive. Some courageous adventurers have attempted expeditions to the base of the fins, descending on woven body-paste ropes, but all expeditions so far have been lost or abandoned. No rope has been made which is long enough. Winds and storms also regularly blow individuals off their uncertain purchases. Rescue attempts are always made but are only successful if the victim has been caught on a ledge and not plunged too far into the depths.
In a terrible irony, what these creatures do not know, while it is plain to us through instrumental observation and cloaked visits, is that stretching away from either side of the central rock-plate range, beyond the cloud bands, is a world as close to paradise as any the galaxy has to offer. It is composed of warm seas, temperate land masses with wide grasslands and vast, fruitful forests, with no other intelligent species anywhere who might compete with the climbers, were they ever to venture into it. The situation on Jacob’s Ladder has haunted the minds of many an explorer and even Cosmographical Department official. But we are bound by the Galactic Non-interference Protocols, and there must be no exceptions.
by submission | Aug 2, 2023 | Story |
Author: Allyson Foley
His breathing was deafening in the confines of the helmet as he clung to the wreckage of the Palindrought.
That thing had looked like one of theirs. Its clearance codes had checked out. Its hull, the call sign, even its frequency and flight path had all cleared.
The ship had been Telphi in every way that mattered—a fellow deep space patrol cruiser.
But only on the initial sweep.
Too bad that by the time they’d dug any deeper, they’d been under target lock, and the Odni, marked M.I.A nearly two months previous had opened fire. Too late had their shielding been called up to stop the barrage of alien weaponry that tore through their hull and disabled their arrays.
To call it a fight would be an insult.
To call it a slaughter? Too kind.
The Palindrought had cracked, the fore decks crumpling among depressurization. The airlock he’d been exiting was the only reason he’d survived the initial attack, but now, floating out here, he couldn’t help the panic that gripped him.
He was alone.
He’d caught the gleam from the thing wearing the Odni’s hull moments before as she slipped through the wreckage of her sistership. Hunting.
Had anyone gotten a signal out? Surely someone would have logged the odd encounter in a place where the only reason to see another Telphi ship was in an emergency?
He had to believe someone was coming.
He hadn’t checked his oxygen. Knowing could only hurt him out here.
Then, a shock of orange in the corner of his vision.
Another suit, a dozen or so meters out, drifting in a slow turn. He quickly activated his radio ping. His suit was for hull repair, not full tack with a proper comm unit, but this was close enough.
“Hey! Hey, over here!” He called breathlessly into his helmet.
No response.
He cursed and looked around, his mind already turning to more practical ideas. That suit had more oxygen.
He’d need to time this right. A piece of debris tumbled past, his hands and feet bracing him to push off once it was clear.
“Help!”
The sudden noise in the silence caused him to jerk, nearly losing his purchase as he frantically responded.
“Hello? Holy shit, where are you? Hello?”
“Help!”
He cast his head around in the hood of the helmet, trying to find the voice’s owner.
“Help!”
“I can’t see you! Where are you?” He called again.
“Help!”
He looked back at where the suit still floated, not too far off. Could it be them? Wait, there! They’d jerked, arms and legs moving slightly.
“I’m coming! If you can hear this, I’m coming to you! I see you!”
He steadied himself, watching them continue to turn. They would be facing him by the time he got close, perfect.
“Hold on,” he reassured as he pushed off, floating towards them steadily, hand grabbing for his tether.
They were almost facing him now, and he pasted on his best reassuring smile, knowing the helmet lights illuminated his face.
It fell away, however, as the suit finally faced him.
Faceplate shattered. The front of the suit was torn open, and something clung there in the tatters, an almost human face staring back at him, bare of protection.
“Help me!” His radio cried as the thing’s mouth opened.
He floated closer—no way to stop.
“Help me!”
He screamed.
“Help me!”
“Help me!”
“I see you!”
