by submission | Mar 3, 2024 | Story |
Author: Peter Griffiths
Elsie had heard some noise in the night, but hadn’t had the energy to get out of bed to see what it was. Now she could see splatters of paint on the window pane, grey on the grey of the cold morning light.
The result was obvious even before she switched on the TV, where now the lineless face of a politician whose name escaped her was visible, announcing that the vote had passed by double digits. ‘I say that this two year reduction in bio-age enfranchisement did not go far enough. Next year we will push to further our emancipation from the dictatorship of those with no stake in our country’s future.’
Sponsored by Juvenescence, cooed a voice. The face of a blonde woman, her bio-age not more than twenty five: ‘I’m retired, and I still have my whole life ahead of me.’
Men running: ‘I just left the rat race at sixty,’ one of them said, ‘and now I’m winning marathons.’ She went to the bathroom, slathered on her makeup and tied back her hair, noticing the grey that was coming through at the roots.
She left the flat with a quiet click of the door, turned to her building, and saw the grey paint splashed against the plastic facade. Across the road she saw the curtains twitch in the house with the car slowly collapsing into rust on its driveway. She made her way to the shop, hoping that her pension had cleared.
A group of teenagers stood around the doorway, forcing her to excuse her way through. She heard a girl whisper, ‘Fogey. Just die off.’ Elsie bought hair dye and exoprotein sausages from the unspeaking man behind the counter. She approached the crowd again, though now the girl stood directly in front of her.
‘It’ll happen to you,’ said Elsie.
‘No fear, fogey,’ she said, poking Elsie in the chest. She felt someone jostle her from behind.
‘Now hobble on home before you get what’s coming to you,’ came a male voice, not yet broken. ‘We might come from here but we’ll be out before we’re old enough to be on Joovy.’
‘That’s what they all say,’ said Elsie as she walked away.
by submission | Mar 2, 2024 | Story |
Author: Jordan Emilson
“Make sure it has a name” Werner whispered to the darkened figure beside him, looming over the crib. In the blackness the room appeared in two dimensions: his, and the one his wife and child existed in across the floor. Her head turned, or at least it appeared to him as such in the darkness.
“I think I already have one”, she whispered. “Opal, after my grandmother”. The baby cooed softly in seeming reply, a gesture that both Werner and the woman took in with a smile.
“I never wanted a child.” Werner rose from his chair and approached the crib. “Funny how life presents itself with such odd…opportunity.” The last word came out with an exaggerated drawl.
He reached down with a pronged hand and stroked the child’s chin. Peaches, he thought, she reminded him of peaches. The thin, fuzzy skin flushed with shades of red and orange. The plump flesh pushing through from behind a thin veneer. It was one of the delicacies that he most valued of Earth.
“Not yet, honey.” His wife’s hand rested upon his wrist, pausing his longing strokes of Opal’s cheek. “We’ll eat soon.”
by submission | Mar 1, 2024 | Story |
Author: Alastair Millar
“It would be fitting,” the Sardaanian said, “if you took a new name now. A human name.”
“But my name has always been T!kalma,” the woman replied.
“Yes,” ze replied, “but that is one of our names. Your birth people are reaching out, as we predicted. Soon it will be time to play your part.”
She looked away at that. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Come, have we not given you a lifespan vastly longer than that of your species? Have we not looked after you, nurtured you, taught you, asking only that you ready yourself for this – to be an emissary?”
“Yes. You have.” She looked at hir directly. “And because you have, this is my home. I don’t want to leave it.”
“You will only need to make short trips. We’re not suggesting you live with them, or anything.”
“Well that’s a relief.”
“I thought it might be.” A forelobe frond waved in what she knew was good-natured agreement.
She sighed.
“But I think, for all your research, you still don’t really understand them.”
“How so?”
“They won’t forgive you. I know why I and the others were brought here as children, but they won’t understand. They’ll say you kidnapped us, call it a repeated act of aggression. And their first instinct will be to respond with violence.”
“But that is just what we seek to avoid!” Ze clacked hir beak worriedly.
“Exactly.”
“Surely they will see the benefits of peaceful coexistence? We have so much to offer them – energy without waste, climatic fluctuation control, matter transference, even chronosynchronisation! And in return we will learn their arts, their music, their belief systems, and by doing so enrich our own culture.”
“They will suspect that your generosity hides a desire to take control of their society and worlds. Worse, they will see what you offer as prizes for the taking.”
“They would be crushed in moments if they tried to take anything by force!”
“And that is what I wish to avoid. The destruction of a species, even one ill-suited to membership in the universal community, is a terrible thing. And it is my species, after all.”
“I know them well enough to be sure that there is no-one they will trust more than one of their own. That is why we brought you all here in advance of their expansion. To act as ambassadors for the greater community and ease them into the Galactic Polity.”
“I am aware,” she said drily. “But this is a huge responsibility, and I do not know if I am ready for it. Or capable of managing it.”
“You are. Of a certainty, there is, in all the galaxy, no group better placed for this than your cohort. You need to trust yourself; and if not, then trust us, as you always have before.”
“I want to believe you. I want it to work. I truly do.”
“And it will. If you make it happen,” ze said, hir carapace glowing blue with reassurance. “They will reach out, and find to their amazement that they are already among us. And that wonders await them.”
“And yet we only have one chance to make a good impression.”
“That is true.”
She took a deep breath of the scented air.
“Then call me Hope.”
by submission | Feb 29, 2024 | Story |
Author: David C. Nutt
The newbie made his way through central supply.
“Why can’t I have a Prussian Blue exosuit?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because you can’t.”
The kid slapped the counter, my counter. “Unacceptable. You dissin’ me because I’m a noob?”
I smiled. “No. I am ‘dissin you’ because you’re an arrogant prick.” I could see the security agent, Mike Breslow, making his way over to my counter.”
“Any problem here Art?”
This is the part I loved, when the noob realized he had zero clout because he hadn’t earned it yet.
“Why no problem at all Officer Breslow. I was just getting ready to tell this shiny new recruit to the colonies why we do not issue the Prussian Blue.”
With all the practiced incredulity of a British Panto, Mike chimed in right on cue “Why do tell Citizen, I love to hear a good story!”
So I told it.
“Back in the day when all of us were noobs like you, Benny Lambert made his way to Mars. Benny and his Prussian Blue exosuit. There wasn’t anything Benny wouldn’t do for you, salt of the earth. Give up his seat at mess if it was too crowded, sing extra loud at church to cover your snoring cuz’ you pulled a double. Giving up some of his water because you were too stupid to bring enough. Benny was like that. Then, after we started excavating the lava tubes the worst of all possible happened. A reactor in the power room started to get all hinky. We evacuated but it needed to be shut down. Before anyone could do anything else, Benny was pushing in rods like it was pin ball. The last rod was somehow bent. When Benny pulled it out to re-insert it, it came all the way out. Couldn’t be put back in. Too radioactive to leave it where it was, so Benny ran into the tunnels. We watched him right up until he dropped the rod into the big hole, the one at least 12 miles deep, where we were throwing all our rubble. Genius move the physics and geology brainiacs said. But for Benny, it was too late. All that radiation. But just as Benny wasn’t one to be fussed over or complain, he saluted the cams, and ran down the tube, and that’s the last we saw him.
Then he started showing up.
A couple of homesteaders get their Doodlebug stuck and a guy in a Prussian Blue exosuit gets them un-stuck. When we domed over the canyon more than once the Prussian Blue was seen pulling someone out of a falling crane or a collapsing ledge. Then, one day we find Benny, or what’s left of him. The Prussian Blue exosuit. We crack it open and it’s empty.
But that doesn’t stop the sightings. Prussian Blue hits the evac alarm twenty minutes before a blow out in a dome- everybody gets out alive…even the pets. A survey team blown waaaaay off course in sandstorm, instruments busted, zero visibility. They see the Prussian Blue waving them to follow and before their air and water zero, they’re back in the habitat.”
The kid swallowed. “Ummm…I wanted one ‘cause it looked cool. A Prussian Blue guy stopped me from walking into an open shaft. I, ummm, whoa.”
The kid sat down.
I smiled and gave the kid his new suit. It was a sharp maroon with just enough scratches and dings so he wouldn’t get pegged as a noob right away. After all, if Benny wanted to cut him slack, who am I to argue?
by submission | Feb 28, 2024 | Story |
Author: Zayan Guedim
Once caught by Sheriff Jeb, criminals faced a gruesome demise. Grave offenses or petty misdemeanors, all the same, he would drive them to the abandoned silver mine. Then alone he would return, with bloody clothes and a blanched face.
A judge, jury, and executioner all in one, Jeb’s reputation spread far and wide. Now the notoriously crime-ridden Silver Peak town reveled in serenity, thanks to his ruthless law enforcement.
As crime became virtually nonexistent, the townspeople grew increasingly grateful to Jeb, who was increasingly distressed and aloof. He rarely engaged in conversation and when he did, his words were sparse and deliberate. Even with Layla, the new saloon’s girl, the first woman to whom Jeb had ever made advances. She came to town a few weeks prior and soon picked up on Jeb’s habits and piqued his interest.
One night, Jeb downed his double shot of whiskey in one, and then he ordered another. And another. Layla asked him whether he was having a tough one, as he usually only had one drink before retreating.
After he guzzled his fourth double shot, he shared news of his new gig. They were having a crime problem at a nearby settlement and they wanted him to help out. He accepted, with one condition: he insisted on bringing any criminals he apprehended back to Silver Peak.
Layla raised an eyebrow, wondering why he would disturb the peace of their town, and why he just didn’t chill out as Silver Peak was virtually crime-free. It was clear to her that he had a backstory. A long, complicated, and painful story.
‘You ain’t gettin’ it, dear Layla,’ Jeb slurred, ‘if only it were that darn simple! We need some wickedness…’
He paused, letting his hand rest on Layla’s shoulder. A violent jolt surged through every fiber in his body. He stood frozen. It was the same sensation he felt that night. Images and sounds flooded his mind, as if time had folded, transporting him back 24 years. Jeb was 8 years old. He was on his first cattle drive with his father, the trail boss, when they saw a blazing comet streaking through the clear night sky. Then they heard a loud thud. Bathing in the moonlight, a massive sandstorm rose in the distance.
The next day, they came across a swirling vortex of sand, near the silver mine. As they got closer, they saw strange shadows moving within the sandstorm. Drawn to the sand vortex, Jeb reached out. As soon as he touched it he was sucked inside and disappeared. But from his point-of-view, it was another show. He watched in horror as all the men, including his father, were caught one by one by a barely discernible force that raised them and squashed them into bloody balls of flesh… After that day, Jeb was no longer the carefree boy he once was.
Jeb’s hand fell from Layla’s shoulder. He turned and stormed out of the saloon.
Two days later, Jeb was deep down the dark shafts of the mine, with one two-bit thief he caught in the neighboring settlement. He watched as the ghoul leisurely approached and started feeding on its helpless paralyzed prey.
Jeb knew better than to lock eyes with the ghoul’s hypnotic gaze, otherwise he’d become a meal himself. As he turned to leave, Layla’s chilling voice froze him in place.
‘You’re next, Jeb!’ said Layla, her mouth dripping with blood, chewing on a big bite of flesh. ‘If I relied solely on crooks I’d starve to death.’
‘BTW, what do you think of my new girly form?’
