by submission | Aug 14, 2009 | Story
Author : Debbie Mac Rory
“This ship represents the cutting edge of our technologies. It’s fitted with both near-light and dark-light engines. It even has solar sails installed, if you ever wanted to cruise on silent. The ship is designed for a skeleton crew of 6, though it can accommodate up to 25 comfortably, while still allowing personal space for each crew member at maximum capacity. All resources, food, water, medical provisions, have been supplied for up to three times your estimated mission time, with apparatus to synthesize more should you wish. The data banks have been filled with the most up to date journals and papers, as well as a full directory of social materials. In short, this ship has everything you could need. It is a home away from home”
“And what do you want me to do with it?”
“Get lost”
* ** *** ** *
Gavin sighed, stretching tired muscles as he got up from his chair. His shift had finished over half an hour ago, but he hated giving up the view from the bridge. Alex nodded at him as he left. Brid, already deep into her spectral analysis data was too absorbed to notice his exit.
Morale on the ship was high, as you would expect following an all night party. The last solar system they’d encountered, while still primitive had a wealth of life, both micro- and macroscopic. Since the probes had started coming back with samples, he’d barely seen Selene, Liz or Niall and at times he wasn’t even sure they’d come out of their lab. He smiled as he walked by them, heads down, taking sample here, cuttings there, lost in their own little worlds, even without the haz-mat suits.
He turned shortly after passing the environmental section, entering his second favourite place on the ship; the library. The tones were muted and relaxing here, with plenty of seats for solitary of social relaxation. Elin was already there, and her eyes lit up as she saw him enter. Abandoning her e-book, she crossed the room to the sunken mid-section of the room, facing a wall-wide screen. The formal meeting room had been abandoned in favour of this area; it led to a much better atmosphere among the crew.
Elin quietly took a seat beside him as he tapped the notebook he had carried, connecting to and then loading the new data to the map that hung as the default view on the screen. A series of images, ones they’d taken themselves flickered by as the new data was incorporated. Slowly an image resolved on the screen, a flattened disk of the Milky Way, home shining as a bright blue dot on one edge. A small uneven ring of coloured information points surrounded the dot, conspicuous against the grey-scale of unexplored space. Piercing out from one side of this area, a thin wedge, making its winding way outwards. At the point of the wedge, a small cursor glimmered, indicating their current position.
“We’re doing well”, Elin said, leaning against his him.
Gavin smiled as he laid his arm across her shoulders.
“We haven’t even reaching mid-point yet. Do you think we’ll make it all the way to the centre?”
“With everyone still excited about the samples from Tryprin, I think you could bring them right out to the far side and they wouldn’t complain”.
Gavin chuckled, hugging Elin close before resting his head on top of hers.
“And do you think we might actually decide on a name for this boat by then?”
by submission | Aug 12, 2009 | Story
Author : Todd Hammrich
On his final day of work the robot A9327R activated with a slight jerk. He was quite pleased that today he would be done with his projects. Long ago he had been created to serve as the monument upkeep specialist and had quite a job set before him. They were old, full of historical significance (though that sort of thing was beyond his grasp) and they were falling apart. Now, he was happy to report, things were much better.
He knew of course that they were not completely restored, heavens no, but they were as good as his abilities allowed him to make them. More could be done, if he knew how to run the great machines and tools of his creators, but his skills were simple and his intelligence not great enough to learn anything else. A few more simple tasks and the drain on his power pack (it had gone far too long without recharging, but he found no masters to help) would be too much and he would deactivate for the last time.
With careful measured steps, conserving as much energy as possible A9327R began his march to the monuments. It wasn’t a long walk, but it was dangerous because the roads were full of debris and other hazardous materials. Not in his monuments though. Oh no, not there. Once on his grounds he emerged into another land. It was crisp and clean, plants neatly tended, pathways always clear of anything that may get underfoot, and it was a slice of perfection. And it was his area to tend. Indeed, having seen no one else for many, many years, it was possible his alone.
Slowly he made his rounds checking that everything was in place. Cleaning where he saw it needed it and ignoring that which would take too long. He had to make it to the little ones today, as they were his final project. He was right on time though and would be able to finish this one right. This memorial was newer than the others. It had been installed the last time he had seen his masters.
It was beautiful (or to his circuits it seemed) all made of marble and delicately done. There were 4 young children hands together playing a game. Though A9327R knew they were statues, like the one of the very tall man, he couldn’t help but feel awe in reverence of them (little masters as they were). The only problem was that for the past week, they had not moved, as they should, around and around in their little circle. So he had saved it for last, knowing it would be the last thing he would do.
For nearly three hours, a master of restoration, he worked. Gears were cleaned, cables tested, and electronics doubly tested. Finally A9327R climbed out and away from the children and waited while the power ran through its own checks and finally, ever so slowly, the children began to rotate in their little circle, like an endless game of tag. And A9327R made his way over to the closest bench and sat like a master with a sense of pride and slowly deactivated.
The children rotated merrily on their endless circle singing their soft song in a place dedicated to the dead. The place where the walls hold the dead heroes of its dead nation. The place where Lincoln and Jefferson and the tower of Washington stand, like sentinels watching over the ruined wasteland of Washington D.C. The children sang slowly:
Ring-a-ring o’ roses,
A pocket full of posies,
Ashes! Ashes!
We all fall …
by submission | Aug 10, 2009 | Story
Author : David Richey
“She’s amazing!” exclaimed General Perkins.
“Thank you very much, General.” Dr. Springmayer said as they looked through the observation window. “We’ve worked very hard to make her so. Having sixty years worth of classified government research and a bottomless budget backing you up doesn’t hurt either.”
“You know, I’d believe she was actually a human if I didn’t know better.”
“But she is human, General. Just because she is composed of organs that were grown in a lab doesn’t make her otherwise.” The doctor said with a smirk.
“And the hardware? What does that make her?”
“Better. It makes her much, much better.” He stated proudly. “Her strength is unbelievable. The living human skin does a great job hiding her “muscles”. She is able to lift five thousand pounds like it’s a bag of flour, she can run 45 m.p.h nearly indefinitely, and she needs almost no food because the amount of living tissue that she is composed of is so small. Besides that, having a hard drive where her brain should be means that she can download absolutely anything we want her to learn.”
“What’s she doing now?” the General asked.
“Her favorite hobby. She’s calculating pi. We allow her two hours of free time a day at the computer and that’s always how she chooses to spend it.”
“So when will we be able to show our investors the weapon that is going to keep the U.S. unstoppable on the battlefield? They are very interested to see what nearly a trillion dollars can build.”
Dr. Springmayer flashed a worried look. “Not just yet. We still have a few months worth of training and testing to do before we are ready to present her.”
“I’d like to meet her, Doctor.”
“I-I-I don’t think that now-“
“That wasn’t a request, Dr. Perkins! I am expected to report back to some very important people about how I think this project is going. Now, take me in there so I can meet her.”
Reluctantly, the doctor took his security card out and swiped it through the door lock. He led the General into the room where a woman, who didn’t appear to be over 25 years old, with red hair and fair skin, sat behind a desk, typing at an incredible rate.
“What’s her name?” the General asked Dr. Perkins.
“We have been calling her Sheree.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Dr. Perkins. But I believe that was your wife’s name.”
Looking at the floor, the doctor said quietly, “Yes, it was.”
The General, looking back to the young woman, said “It’s nice to meet you, Sheree.”
She stopped typing. Scooting her chair back, she stood up and turned around. “It’s very nice to meet you as well, General Springmayer.”
“Even her voice is convincing.” The General said. Then, with a puzzled look on his face, he asked “Why is her stomach-?” Then he stopped talking as he processed what he was seeing. Horrified, he asked “Dr. Perkins, please tell me she’s not…”
“Yes,” he said, ashamed. “She’s pregnant.”
by submission | Aug 9, 2009 | Story
Author : Ken McGrath
My body goes limp and it’s like floating, like there’s no gravity. Then I feel the zoom, my shoulders jerk back and I’m off.
Blood rushes to my head, fingertips scuttling like tiny crabs dancing over the keyboard, a whoosh by my eyes as the corners flash past in a blur of motion. My heartbeat starts to increase and I stabilise the craft, quickly selecting the icon I need.
There’s a click in the heart of my machine and gears shift upward, my angle straightens and I pounce forwards.
I feel the familiar kick as I crest that first hill, feeling the craft going airborne slightly and I hit the boosters, this time anticipating the push, the zoom and my stomach being sucked up into my lungs by the increasing pressure. Lights flash by as the track goes underground. Single pinpricks of white and red, yellow and orange stretching out, forming long continuous unbroken lines. They’ll direct me to my destination. Just stay inside of them I think calmly going over the familiar, rehearsed route in my mind.
I smile feeling the power beneath me, surrounding me, like I’ve become one with this machine. The guys in the garage would have some laugh if they heard me saying that and I’m sure the team psychologist would have a field day with it too. It’s true though, to a certain extent. You have to know your vehicle intimately, know how she’ll respond to any slight change in the terrain before you can seriously take part in a competition like this and I’ve spent so much of the past year working towards this moment. That was the engagement now this is the union, our bodies fused together by a series of straps, wires and buckles. Together we are complete. Right now we are one unit, with one goal, to complete this course in the fastest time possible.
Symbols flash up on my visor screen. For a fleeting moment the track ahead, pitch black apart from the comet-tailed guide lights is condensed and relegated to the bottom right of my vision. Both eyes work independently and my brain processes both sets of information simultaneously. There’s a lurch as the back of the craft glides too far to the left and the tunnel wall looms up terminally.
Like lightening I wrestle back control, using the spin to my advantage and we lunge forwards together. Sharp left, long, curving right, into the dip, accelerator held down firmly, a gentle tap and slight angling correction as I burst into sunlight and take the chicane. Inside my harness I lift slightly as the craft cuts smoothly through the air.
Focusing on the curves and turns I casually watch my timer creeping up on the race leader’s track-time. The chatter of voices in my helmet, issuing instructions and updates on my progress from the pit-lane are encouragement rather than distraction. Strapped in tight, the security harness keeping me locked in place, suspended inside this gyroscopic machine. This is freedom and I love it.
by submission | Aug 8, 2009 | Story
Author : Richard Watt
Isaac blinks and tries it again. There is an apple on the table in front of him, and another on the shelf to his left. He reaches out with his left hand and picks the fruit up. It has the texture and heft of an ordinary green apple. Isaac lays it down beside the red one in front of him. He hesitates as he does so, although he knows, has deduced by empirical observation – which he is rather good at – what will happen.
It happens again. He blinks once more, then takes the green apple away. There is one red apple in front of him. He wonders what will happen if the green apple is cut in half, but he has had no access to any implements since he arrived, by means which he does not yet fully comprehend, in this place.
There is a stranger seated across from him, but Isaac does not meet his gaze. He has devoted his life to observing and deducing, but he is genuinely disturbed by what he has seen here. The fact that his companion appears to find it mildly amusing has put Isaac in a foul mood, and he can no longer contain himself.
“This is impossible! Sir, I demand to know by what trickery you make these abominations appear!”
The other man, who has not even so much as introduced himself, smiles at Isaac, which causes the old man to sigh intemperately.
“There is no trickery, Isaac. This is the natural order of things. Simple mathematics. You have one object, and you add another to it, then there are five objects. Take one away, and there will be one left. How it is, and how it must be.”
Isaac is irritated enough not to notice that he has, once again, been addressed inappropriately. His mind is on another path now.
“Is this Hell, sir? Is this my punishment for whatever transgressions I am deemed to have committed? If so, I demand my judgement! I demand to be heard, and to face the wrath of my creator in person. Not to be trifled with by some insipid underling. Sir, you mock me, and I will not tolerate it!”
“It amuses me, Isaac, that so many of the ones we retrieve from your dimension talk in these terms – although not, if I may say so, always in such eloquent language. If it pleases you to consider this some kind of judgement upon your character, then we will accommodate that. In truth, it is your mind, rather than your character which has alerted us to you. We feel certain that your thorough understanding of the mathematical principles of your limited subset of the – ah, I must apologise; as far as we can discern, your language has no word for it; let us call it the universe – will help us in our studies. Given time, we feel sure you will come to relish the challenge.”
Isaac does what he often does when he feels discomfited; he harrumphs loudly, which seems only to provoke more amusement. The other man stands and leaves the room. Isaac glares after him.
Outside, in a space which Isaac might have recognised as some kind of corridor, the other man passes his case notes over to his supervisor.
“I think he will come round; he’s certainly the most promising one we’ve had yet. No sign of mental instability at all. In fact, he’s mostly just irritable.”
The supervisor smiles thinly. “You did remember to tell him not to eat the apple, didn’t you?”
