by submission | Apr 8, 2012 | Story |
Author : Greg Lowry
Waving his antennae in amused confusion, the Commander responded, “That is a preposterous demand. I don’t know where you strange, primitive humans got that ship, but my task force has you outnumbered both qualitatively and quantitatively. Our scientists have determined it will take at least a century for you to develop wormhole travel on your own. You’re even farther from developing anything like our energy beams for offense. In fact, you’re still using ion propulsion and lasers.” He rubbed his mid-leg segments together in derisive chortles. “You are our lawful prey and we will do what we want with your kind.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong”, the strange biped on his communicator’s screen replied, the corners of his eating orifice turning downward and the fibrous growths above his visual sensing organs bunching in the center. “You may control this area outside our solar system right now—probably until we do develop that wormhole system you have, but you will not do what you want with us. You have caused enough slaughter among our people and we will no longer allow it. I repeat. Surrender your task force to me, now.?
The Commander paused a moment in thought, his amusement sliding into annoyance. Surely this unnatural biped couldn’t be serious. It didn’t matter where his people had bought or stolen their ship—there was no way it could attack his task force and survive. The puny kilometer-wide sphere couldn’t house a wormhole drive, power generators, and serious weaponry. He allowed his antennae to straighten in severity. “There is no way your tiny ship can house a wormhole drive and enough weaponry to matter. I fail to see why I should do anything but destroy you.”
“Commander, I already told you that we haven’t developed a wormhole drive, yet. Your species had better examine its assumptions about us. You have only one of our minutes left before we attack. What is your decision?” The human asked.
“What do you mean, you have no wormhole drive? Then how did you get out here, beyond your solar system?” His amusement was returning. These humans might say anything. It was going to be entertaining until their destruction, after all. “The heliopause and bow shock around your solar system are impossible to survive and the thrust to push through the gravity waves is inconceivable. You would have to be able to be able to create nearly indestructible armor and generate nearly infinite power.” He rubbed his mid-leg segments together, chortling, again.
“Well,” said the human on the screen as the counter at its top ticked to zero, “you should have researched our species a bit more. While we haven’t figured out your wormhole drive, we’re pretty close on both of those.”
The Commander’s amusement metamorphosed into shock as his instruments detected immense energy readings and then overloaded as a blast of coherent electromagnetic energy bridged the distance between the human sphere and one of his own ships, burning through its armor and vaporizing it in milliseconds. Automated weaponry fired on the human ship immediately, but the powerful energy beams didn’t affect it at all. A sense of confusion and fear lashed the Commander’s brain—he hoped his species would be ready when the humans developed the wormhole drive—and then, to him, it no longer mattered.
by submission | Apr 7, 2012 | Story |
Author : Keigan Ewing
It was too good to be true. As Sonny hovered above the city, all but weightless, he couldn?t believe such technology existed. The feeling was indescribable. He marvelled at the device, humbly glowing in his palm as it worked its magic. Magic. That?s essentially what it was, he could only fathom as to how it operated. He had theories of course, but no evidence to support any of them. It was possible that it somehow interacted with the local gravity field, reshaping it in a way that caused it to forget he was even there. Regardless of how it operated, he was enjoying the experience. He reflected on how it came in to his possession.
The man who gave it to him had not said a word about the device itself. Only that it was necessary to leave it here for the time being. Sonny had no idea what the man was talking about, but something about his tone was familiar and soothing, almost fatherly. This was clearly very important to him, and Sonny found himself unable to deny him. So he took the device and promised to hold on to it. He had no idea why he was holding it, or for how long he was supposed to hold it, but it seemed like the right thing to do. After a brief thanks, Sonny could have sworn the man flat-out disappeared. Gone in the time it took him to blink.
As Sonny had started to walk home he noticed a slight warmth coming from the device now stowed in his jacket pocket. Taking it out to investigate, he noted a faint blue-green glow about it. He turned the small metallic object over in his hands. It was very subtle, and he wasn?t sure if he hadn?t noticed it before, or if it was a new development. Cupping the device in his hands, he suddenly felt the ground fall away beneath him. Panicked, at first, he considered throwing the small object as far from himself as possible. He quickly realized though, that he could control the velocity of his ascent. After gaining control over his flight he settled in at a nice viewing altitude above the city.
Sonny snapped backed to reality. Only now did he notice that he wasn?t the only person airborne tonight. There were a few others dotted around the nightscape. He could feel them more than see them, and he knew this was not the only area where this was happening. Sonny began to feel uneasy, only now questioning why this was happening. The giddy feeling of flying had worn off, and was slowly being replaced with one of dread. Without warning, the entire city went dark. In the distance he could see the lights of nearby towns going dark as well, one by one. The only light left came from the few people hovering above the infinite blackness. Sonny looked up, it seemed even the stars had gone dark. Still looking up, he saw the lights come on, and now understood where all the stars had gone.
by submission | Apr 6, 2012 | Story |
Author : Suzanne Borchers
Edwin studied the soft-fleshed android beside him on the laboratory bed. Fred had the same plug-in cables as himself, same size arms, legs, head and torso. What made Fred better? Was it his flesh colored appendages, his manipulative facial features, and his warmth?
Edwin tapped his cold metal fingers together. Father had pronounced him superfluous. Father had ordered him destroyed. Father didn’t want to see him ever again. Edwin despaired.
But then Edwin felt the warmth of the newly fused synapses in his brain. Even knowing Father intended to dismantle his parts and that he would be lost forever, Edwin didn’t believe it would happen. Was this warmth called hope? He remembered learning its definition long ago but not understanding the meaning. He still didn’t understand, but he enjoyed its warmth within his cold circuits. Could he survive? “Perhaps,” he murmured, and wished he could smile.
Edwin “slept.”
When Edwin’s circuits powered up in the morning, he found himself alone. Father had come for Fred and ignored him, leaving him to sleep, knowing the bed would be empty when he returned Fred that evening. Father didn’t want him. Edwin despaired.
Edwin welcomed the pulsing tiny warmth in his brain. Hope. He reached behind his head, stripped off the cables, and sat up. He waited. He hoped.
Hours later, footsteps approached. Measured, light steps. They weren’t Father’s steps. The cadence became faster, louder, and then stopped. The door opened slowly. A woman’s face appeared to scan the room until her eyes found Edwin.
Edwin remembered her as Father’s assistant. She would stand quietly as Father plugged in his cables. She was always in shadow. Hers was the feminine voice behind the door when Father ordered him destroyed. She was here. Edwin wished he could shudder.
As she approached him, Edwin realized her face was asymmetrical. Her right, blue eye was larger than the left. Her nose wasn’t centered, but pulled a bit to the right. She smiled at him with lopsided lips. A dimple on the right winked at him.
Could she understand how he felt? Perhaps.
“Hello, Edwin.” Her voice was soft. She reached out her hand to his and gently clasped it to flood his arm with warmth. “It’s time.”
Edwin jumped to the floor and paced his steps with hers. They left the room, moved down the corridor, entered the elevator, and rode down three floors. When the doors opened, Edwin hesitated.
He surveyed a large room filled with android parts in overflowing boxes. Metal heads stared blindly from rows on a top shelf, with huge crates marked “Feet,” “Hands,” “Arms,” and more on the successive lower shelves. Across the room, two technicians were dismantling a metal android on a slab.
His brain pulsed with warmth that became fainter as he stood looking out of the elevator. This was the end. Father had ordered her to destroy him. It was her job.
He felt cold, and he despaired. He wished he could disobey. He wished he could plead.
He hoped it would be over soon. “I’m ready,” he said.
He stepped out of the elevator with the woman. He began to move toward the technicians when she stopped him.
“No, Edwin,” she said.
She led him to a door that opened at her touch. As it opened, he blinked his eyes at the brightness on the other side. He stepped through the doorway into warmth.
“We’re going home.” She gently squeezed his hand.
Edwin wished he could smile.
by submission | Apr 1, 2012 | Story |
Author : Bob Newbell
Lieutenant Thev’s cephalon bioluminesced a faint yellow. Clearly, he was nervous. “You do realize, Thev, that this is the most carefully planned celestial engineering project in galactic history?” Thev turned his cephalon to face Project Director Grojjun. The gesture was out of politeness and not necessity. The position and field of vision of Thev’s eyes allowed him to see Grojjun standing behind him, but it was respectful to observe certain protocols.
“Sorry, sir,” said Thev. “It’s just, well, there won’t be any second chances. This is it. This is the ancestral home of all sentient life in the galaxy.” Thev turned his cephalon back to the large viewscreen that comprised most of one wall of the bridge of the ship. “This is Earth.”
Grojjun looked at the aging planet their ship was orbiting. But he was more concerned with the aging star that lay eight light-minutes in the distance. The Sun was nearly eight billion years old. It was larger and redder than it had been when Earth was the sole repository of intelligent life. As the human race had propagated itself throughout the galaxy and biologically re-engineered itself into thousands of exotic forms capable of thriving on millions of worlds, the Sun had continued its long, slow march through the main stellar sequence and was now becoming a red giant. Sol was becoming decrepit. And the human race and its progeny couldn’t stand the idea that their ancient homeworld would be reduced to a cinder if they stood by and did nothing.
“Earth has faced destruction countless times in her history,” Grojjun reminded the lieutenant. “Asteroids, volcanoes, ice ages. As recently as 10 million years ago a minor adjustment to the Moon’s orbit had to be made.” Thev’s cephalon maintained its yellow hue. “But, Director,” said Thev, “what we’re about to do. No one has ever attempted anything on this scale. The complexity of the calculations. The sheer amount of power and the utter precision with which that power must be controlled. I can’t help but worry.”
Grojjun was about to make another attempt to reassure Thev when a message flashed across the lieutenant’s control panel. “Sir,” said Thev, “all orbital and ground stations report ready. It’s time.” Grojjun looked not at the Earth or the Moon, but at the Sun. “Goodbye, old friend,” Grojunn said as he pressed the flashing green holographic button on the control panel.
There was no flash of light, no tremor, no feeling of movement. There was nothing at all to suggest that the fabric of spacetime had just been torn asunder on a scale without precedent in four billion years of recorded galactic history. To an outside observer, the Earth and Moon would appear to have simply vanished without a trace.
On the viewscreen, Grojjun and Thev saw what appeared to be the Sun suddenly shift a few degrees to the left and simultaneously change from reddish-orange to yellow-white in color. “Director!” Thev exclaimed. “It worked! We’re 43.3 light-years from our previous position. The Earth and Moon came through the wormhole perfectly intact. We’re in a stable orbit around 58 Eridani!”
Grojjun looked at Earth’s new parent star. It was almost the identical twin of old Sol except that it was billions of years younger. Thev breathed a sigh of relief as his cephalon faded from yellow back to a sedate and happy dark green.
by submission | Mar 31, 2012 | Story |
Author : William Mason
“They used to have something called friends.”
“What?” asked the boy,
The machine beeped a few times, and resumed with its synthesized voice, “Friends are people whose company you enjoyed; people who are an extension of you.”
“Friends.” repeated the boy, his voice bouncing off the glass walls of the Institute.
“Friends were one step below family. Are you familiar with the word family?”
“Yes” the boy replied with eyes that lit up “I remember that word from last were! I took some recall pills, I remember I had a …”
The screen on the front of the machine changed colour, an interrogative gesture. The boy strained to remember the word.
“A father, yes I remember!”
The machine returned to its colourless screen.
“I had a father, and a mo…mo…a Mother!”
“Very good,” said the machine,
“I remember them” continued the boy “I saw their faces, they had masks on, and the green smoke all around, and then… I was on a moving channel”
“Yes you were born when you came out of the other end” said the machine.
The boy raised his eyebrows, trying to remember something “Tell me more about friends.”
“A friend is someone whom you spend time with for the sake of enjoyment, a friend is someone with whom you have shared interests or shared activities”
“Are you my friend?” asked the boy,
“No,” said the machine, “I am your teacher”
“Can a teacher be a friend?”
“No” repeated the machine,
A man in a lab suit entered the glass enclosure, and the boy looked back.
“Class is over” the man said softly,
The boy jumped up and ran out with haste.
“I’ve been observing the lessons,” said the man, “He is progressing quickly.”
“Of course he is” said the machine, “soon he will be able to make friends with the other subjects.”
