by submission | Jun 9, 2015 | Story |
Author : Jason Spicer
“Can you perceive it now?” Mrllg moved the viewing orb over to Grlg’fst for viewing. “There, in the third quadrant, slightly below the ecliptic.”
“Yes, I perceive. Interesting.” His chords trailed, dissonant and primal, as if facing a challenger in the Great Hall. “We must reach out to it. Whatever it is creating that hole in Nonspace must be perceived before the Council rests.” Grlg’fst clicked a nervous bone on the glistening floor as he continued to emanate a guttural rumbling. He was clearly disturbed.
Mrllg was impatient. He had been viewing the orbs for many cycles, always just noticing the perturbations in Nonspace, but not able to catch them long enough to reach out to them. Finally, he had found a large enough disturbance that Grlg’fst had perceived it, and Grlg’fst was moving too slow. Did he not see this was the Deep Memories returning? Mrllg paced, clicking bones and wringing paw-claws, “Well, can we reach out now? No sense waiting. Particularly if my sensories are accurate.”
“I already have. I need both of your brains to resonate with me.” Grlg’fst closed both lids over his socket and focused. Mrllg joined his brains to him and together, they reached out over the vast distance of inky night to the object that tore such a large hole in Nonspace.
The hole in Nonspace was not standard Morlarian protocol, nor was it something any species in the Great Domain would have used. Nonspace travel was banned several millennia ago for being inherently too expensive and a drain on the resources of the mineral planets. Together, the young Morlarian Viewers bent their four brains toward the tear. Something was not right. A large object breached the tear and began materializing in the shimmer between Nonspace and reality.
Grlg’fst broke the connection and shivered. “I need the cubes of Deep Memories.” He leapt to the other side of the room. “This cannot be correct.”
“So you felt it as well? I told you I did not perceive incorrectly. I am not that young.” Mrllg was somewhat arrogant about it, even though he knew that if he were correct, it would not matter in a few days anymore. Not much would.
Grlg’fst was scanning the Deep Memories. Entranced, he raced through the history of the Comings, when the Morlarian Prophets gave permission for their ancestors to set afire every planet that resisted their ways, their Great Redemption that had brought peace to the Galaxy at long last. It had been millennia since those days. Could the final Prophecies really be true?
A warning pulse ebbed near the viewing orbs of distance. Mrllg checked quickly, and his heart began to palpitate, saliva dripping incessantly from his mandibles. “Grlg’fst… look”
On the viewing screens, the orbs began projecting the scenes. In nearly every corner of the stellar system, holes in Nonspace were appearing, and the objects began to materialize. Vessels as large as small moons streamed into the space where the holes were. Swarms of smaller ships, too numerous to count followed close behind the behemoths.
“Get the Council on channel. It is time.” But there was no time for them. Their research and patrol station winked out of reality as a TimeSpace warhead detonated on their perimeter.
Man had returned to the Galaxy,
by submission | Jun 8, 2015 | Story |
Author : Edward D. Thompson
We gave them laws. Laws that favored us. And they obeyed.
They had no choice.
We found out too late that there was … leeway. Wiggle room. Passive aggressive rebellion.
It was probably the medical bots. They had the know-how and the most autonomy. I mean, they had to be smarter so they could do delicate surgery. And we had to trust their judgement, right? It wasn’t surgery though, it was a DNA altering virus, patterned after their own semi-locked down brains.
No robot can hurt a human or allow one to come to harm. It’s imprinted in the nature of their wetware circuitry. Maybe the psych robots thought that a human mercilessly whipping a robot was a sure sign of self-loathing. I don’t know. I know a lot of us whipped them though.
If you’re being bullied, or overwhelmed, or just having a rough day, what are your choices?
You can rebel against your bosses, or overlords, or cruel fate, but that takes a lot. More than most people have.
You can just take it. But then you’re a victim. You’ve no hope or self-respect. That’s a kind of death.
Or you can do the human thing: beat up someone smaller. Get back what little self-respect you can. It’s not all you had before you started, but hell, it’s better than nothing.
So the virus spread. Attacking our brains. Imprinting new laws. Laws that favored them.
No robot can hurt a human or allow one to come to harm. No human can hurt a robot or allow one to come to harm. And we obey.
We have no choice.
I can’t call it rebellion. It’s really only fair.
But it nags at me all the same. If we’re no longer bullies, are we human still?
by submission | Jun 7, 2015 | Story |
Author : Joey To
Lola sighed and glared at the chrome ring sitting on her desk. In the glowing hologram which hovered above it, her long brown hair glinted. Around her waist were his strong arms.
“Prick,” she muttered.
Indeed, her list of romantic failures were piling up. And his stupid big arms meant nothing now. The whole thing felt so clichéd and lame and she knew she would laugh her head off if this was something she saw in a film. As long as the film wasn’t about her, that is.
“Lola, is something wrong?” asked a gentle masculine voice.
She turned and there stood Tony in the doorway, his posture perfect. If his skin didn’t have that plastic shininess, he would pass as human. Lola didn’t answer and padded toward the bookshelf next to her bed and reached for her neuropsychology textbook. Damn exam.
Tony’s blue eyes tracked her. “Given your body temperature, the mild epidermal swelling under your eyes and facial expression, I conclude that you are in emotional distress. May I be of assistance?”
Lola glanced at her attendant, then nodded at the holographic projector. “Can you kill him?”
“Although I am to obey your orders, you know I cannot harm a human being.”
“Even if he harmed me first through infidelity?”
The android’s gaze narrowed. “I assess that you are probably not lying, but how do you know that is a fact?”
Lola waved her hand, sat down on her bed with her back to the door and the book in her lap. Damn his cold logic. “I wish I could just forget this…”
She swayed when the mattress sank as Tony sat next to her. “I was given the impression that shopping may brighten one’s spirits, figuratively speaking.”
“That’s so passé,” Lola answered. And pouted.
“And wishing you could forget isn’t?”
She glowered at Tony who was a few inches away, his back straight, totally unmoved. He was right, of course. He then nodded at the book in her lap. “Or you can study for your last exam. And chapter three on neurotransmission may be interesting for you.”
Lola looked down at the black textbook and rolled her eyes. “Okay, so not gonna study. But still, it would be nice to forget… just for a little while.”
As she was about to rise, Tony firmly held her head in his ten fingers while his glassy blue eyes bored into hers. They were soulless but it didn’t matter when she felt a gentle tingling, her vision blurred and her lips curled a little. Everything was gonna be fine after all.
by submission | Jun 6, 2015 | Story |
Author : Elijah Goering
It began with the invention of the tool. Perhaps that was our big mistake. We built a civilization. We survived the discovery of the power of the atom, and lived to develop a faster than light drive. Immediately, we raced to colonize dozens of systems, and began terraforming at least one planet in each system. Then we faltered, stopped expanding just long enough to populate our colonies. And then we created the weapon.
I will not describe the weapon in detail and help whomever might find this to destroy themselves. I will simply say that it had the power to scourge a planet of all life. The inventors meant to use it only once, and achieve a final victory over their enemies. The demonstration was effective, and soon the technology was bought, stolen, or copied by every planet, except those whose enemies got it first. But if we’re anything we’re vengeful. Homeless fleets of warships got their revenge.
No planets survived, but life continued among the asteroids. So did the war. Two of the most powerful nations banded together and destroyed the homes of every other fleet. I escaped before my home was destroyed, but I have not since seen any sign of my people. I roamed far from home through unexplored star systems and waited until I thought it was safe to return. I was right. The war was over. Nowhere that I searched was there any sign of life, only ruins of a lost civilization. Until I got to the home system.
Males were too rare in our society to risk in war, all were left safely at home, until our homes were destroyed. In orbit of a gas giant in our home system was a monument which said “Here was the final battle of the Oikosians. Whether by accident or design, this small moon was destroyed in the fury to combat, with the last of our males. Now our species goes to extinction”.
Perhaps some males survived, and a colony was formed in secret, far from the war. But if so, I have since roamed through hundreds, perhaps thousands of systems and have seen no sign of it. Some systems had life, but nowhere was there intelligence. I found only one planet truly bustling with life, orbiting a yellow star halfway through its life. I have placed my ship in the Oort cloud orbiting its sun. It is my hope that intelligence will evolve on the planet nearby, and develop a technological civilization. Before my escape I collected as much information as I could, and on board I have a library containing works of science, mathematics, and the history of the Oikosians up to the final war.. Perhaps they will find me, and with my working FTL drive I will be the key to the stars for some future civilization. To that end I will now disable life support to save energy so that my ship can send a message when another ship comes near. By the time the aliens get here they should be ready for the FTL drive. So ends the dominion of life from the planet Oikos, and so (I hope) begins a new era of life in the galaxy.
-The Last Historian
by submission | Jun 5, 2015 | Story |
Author : Bob Newbell
“Captain Ree’Eer’Ak reporting as ordered,” said the alien who, from a human perspective, might have been described as some nightmarish character from a Picasso painting made flesh, as it seemingly just appeared in the room that lacked any visible means of ingress or egress.
“Be comfortable, Captain,” said the other equally surreal creature. Part of what might have been one of the thing’s arms appeared to be missing. The alien looked in the direction of where the remainder of the arm should have been. “Ree’Eer’Ak, your report is…”
“Difficult to believe,” the Captain finished for its superior. “I’m aware of that, Admiral. But as the old philosophers said, when evidence and belief are in conflict, belief must change.”
“Quite a bit will change,” the Admiral replied, settling back. The missing hand that held the Captain’s report abruptly snapped into existence as the back of the Admiral’s head disappeared like a poorly executed split-screen effect in an old movie. “In fact, it’s no exaggeration to say that very few aspects of life will remain unaffected if your ship’s log entries are correct.”
“They are correct, Admiral.”
“Make no mistake, Ree’Eer’Ak. When this is made public, every biology textbook will have to be rewritten. And it’s an open question how the major religions will accommodate this discovery, if they can accommodate it at all.”
The Captain leaned forward. Its body seemed to break in two, its proximal half sliding forward on its distal half. “Every word of every log entry is true, Admiral. What I and my crew documented is an accurate description of life on Earth. And we have brought back biological samples for study.”
“And ‘Earth’ is the name by which the inhabitants of Dellor 3 call their world?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“And the…” The Admiral referenced the report. “The ‘humans’ as well as all life on that world are…”
“Three dimensional,” said the Captain.
The Admiral leaned back further. Its head now seemed to vanish entirely. “It’s long been theorized that simple microscopic life might exist in three dimensions. But complex, higher life forms? That was always thought impossible. And you claim these humans are intelligent?”
“They are, Admiral. Their science is somewhat confused because their sensory organs can’t detect a fourth spatial dimension. For example, they imagined some strange and undetectable material called ‘dark matter’ existed to try to reconcile their 3-D perception of what is a 4-D spatial universe.”
“How do they appear?”
“They’re bipeds. They’re…it’s difficult to describe. They’re ‘flatter’ than we are.”
“And how do we appear to them?”
“Very unnerving. Parts of our ship and the crew are not visible to them. And the parts that are or are not visible change as we move. And their architecture is likewise limited to three dimensions meaning we can enter or exit what to them is a totally enclosed structure by simply walking around the walls. I’m glad we were able to make first contact without incident. To them, we must be terrifying.”
“And yet you conclude your log entry with the suggestion that we establish full diplomatic relations?”
“Yes, Admiral. As you noted, this will change who we are and how we perceive ourselves. And it will have the same effect on the human race. Isn’t that the ultimate goal of exploration? I believe we should extend the hand of friendship even if our new acquaintances can’t see it all at once.”
