by submission | Jan 7, 2025 | Story |
Author: Majoki
“Someone tell me what’s happening!” Subtechnician Tantynn yelled as he spaghettified. A physical state that closely resembles the squiggles of a toddler’s finger painting.
Specialist Pingul sighed. Which probably looked to an outsider as if her head had warped in a most cartoonish way. Which it kinda had, but not in any dangerous fashion. At least not yet.
It was just flutter. And flutter took a little getting used to. If you studied it like Specialist Pingul did, it felt like no big deal. Even though, without the proper countermeasures, it could rip you and your dimension apart. So, the stakes were pretty high. Still, Specialist Pingul got tired of newbs like Subtechnician Tantynn freaking out over a little interdimensional turbulence.
Sure, working in a superstring lab exploring M-theory meant they were going to experience things the general population never would, though most folks at some time in their lives experienced a kind of interdimensional turbulence. They just described it as deja vu.
Which made sense to Specialist Pingul. Deja vu was a kind of brain flutter, a feeling of familiarity you can’t quite place, a very personal perturbation of space-time. Akin to that, Pingul and her lab colleagues tested brane flutter, a superstring worldvolume instability that could cause real existential problems, as in existence itself.
Flutter. It seems like such a harmless term. Aspen leaves flutter in a gentle breeze. A passionate kiss may make a lover’s eyelids flutter. Gossamer butterflies often flutter across flowering meadows.
But we’ve all heard about the Butterfly Effect. Flutter can change everything. Aerospace engineers know that all too wellI when confronting an aerodynamic instability that causes some or all parts of an aircraft to vibrate. If not immediately dampened or controlled, increasingly severe oscillations are likely to damage or destroy the craft.
The smallest of imbalances can lead to the largest of problems.
And if you scaled that interdimensionally with p-brane vibrations, you were talking about a wave function collapse of potentially epic proportions. So, Specialist Pingul and her labmates were tasked with preventing Big Bang 2.0 as they tested ways to manipulate interdimensional interaction for scientific progress. And, to be perfectly honest, for fun and profit.
Who wouldn’t want to discover a way to skirt our confining four dimensions, especially time? Imagine finagling spacetime militarily, financially, politically, or personally. Like the metaverse, the possibilities appear endless. As well as the perils.
Specialist Pingul knew they still had a long way to go to reliably access and stabilize the workings of interdimensional realms. It was one thing to be momentarily spaghettified like Subtechnician Tantynn; it was another to harness enough dark energy to pierce the veil and bypass our narrow Newtonian mechanics, leap beyond our current understanding of the spacetime continuum, and establish a foothold in the Interdimensional Age.
Much like earlier pioneers, daredevils, and explorers trying to lift humanity into Earth’s skies and then beyond, there were still dire problems to solve, grave risks to take, and deep sacrifices to make.
Yet, just the thought of pushing humanity’s limits, striving to enter the almost ethereal, made Specialist Pingul’s heart, oh so wildly, flutter.
by Julian Miles | Jan 6, 2025 | Story |
Author: Julian Miles, Staff Writer
I’m not supposed to care which particular variety of illegal folderol a target has been committing. My job is to bring them to whichever form of justice is applicable. We default to it being that of the reality flow they’re in, unless whatever they’re up to is particularly awful, in which case we’re free to use immediately lethal penalties. Which is a decision for my superiors. I might personally disagree, but vigilantism isn’t what I’m being paid for.
All that said, I hate reality skaters. People who get their kicks by invading their lives in other flows, taking what they want, doing what they feel, then skating out ahead of the consequences, leaving their in-flow selves to face all manner of predicaments. However, for all my loathing, I will admit an admiration for their impeccable timing, as meeting another of yourself while in their reality causes a small but mutually lethal explosion.
Tonight’s target is Sebastian Li. He’s been a very bad boy across 123 flows already, and here he comes to continue his rampage through the life of Sebastian Li 124 – technically instance J6P5Z226, but only arrest warrants and scientists care about the actual where/when of any who in question.
“Sebastian Li, instance A6K9L680, your skate is over!”
The tanned figure in the black jumpsuit stops dead, then twists down and around, raising a hand and peering at us from under it.
“Well, well, well. Only two officers? Didn’t I tell you last time you’d need a lot more?”
Scanlon hisses at me.
“There was a last time?”
Getting tired of being his secretary… I hiss back.
“No idea. We got the same datafeed. Now focus.”
“Who’s our third tonight?”
“Brigast. On the rooftop across the way.”
Who gives away his concealed sniper position by shooting Scanlon!
I growl into my throat mic as Scanlon sinks to the ground, blue sparks spitting from his eyes.
“Wrong target!”
There’s a low laugh from my headset.
“For you, maybe.”
I know that voice?
Sebastian turns to face me.
“Your partner isn’t dead – yet. You’ve got about six minutes to get him to medical care a lot more advanced than this flow has.”
“You conniving bastard.”
He grins.
“My parents were actually married in my home reality, so that’s untrue. Now, are you going? Alternatively, Seb Four can shoot you as well.”
He points to where Brigast is.
Four?
The low laugh comes again.
“I don’t think they filled this one in, Six.”
Six? I should be understanding something, but I’m not…
A figure steps out of the alleyway across the way. This – Sebastian! – is dressed in a tasteful three-piece suit and is carrying a harpoon gun. He waves at me with it.
“Sorry to be melodramatic, but sporting goods shops are easier to rip off than gun stores. Oh, sorry. I’m Seb Three.”
Dear gods. There’s a team of them. Too hell with those who sent us blind into this!
“I’m going to take my partner and go.”
Seb Six, in the black jumpsuit, nods.
“You’re handling it well. The last couple of teams didn’t, and there were more of them.”
Are we a case of incompetence or revenge, I wonder?
“Is Brigast alive?”
The reply comes over my headset.
“No. I’m from a reality at war. Old habits. Sorry about that.”
I heft Scanlon over my shoulder and walk away. This is more than negligence, and quite frankly my superiors can pick someone else. If I can’t trust those who send me patrolling the realities, I’m out.
by submission | Jan 5, 2025 | Story |
Author: Audrianna
It looms over our city, its glass panes providing us protection from the world outside. The world that is full of carnage, ruined by mankind.
So we stay in the Dome.
. . .
I am close to my little brother, even after the death of our father. We look out for one another.
But, as Noah lies on the floor, I fear I didn’t look out well enough. His arms are held behind his back by an enforcer, twisted awkwardly. They hold him as if he were a criminal, not a boy in his own home.
The enforcers haul him to his feet. He stumbles. Blood drips onto the floor.
I throw myself at them, a childish action, but I can no longer watch. Hot tears slide down my cheeks as I pound them with my fists. The enforcers shove me away and I hit the floor, shaking.
“W-What are you doing?” I demand, my voice trembling.
“The public needs someone to blame.” The excuse comes as though it bears no weight behind it.
My hands shake. Something boils in my chest, an anger far worse than any other.
Enforcers drag Noah out of our home. My eyes lock with his, sending a message. I will come for you. I will not let you die. He chews his lip, his expression pleading with me to reconsider. But I will not.
. . .
I try to break him out, a mouse sneaking into a lion’s den. The guards are kind enough to let me off with just a warning. They should have thrown me in a cell. I will not back down easily, not when it comes to my brother.
So, I think of a new idea.
My father’s death led me to be more careless, to involve myself in people I shouldn’t. I came across Scarlett, who believes what is outside the Dome isn’t what we’re being told.
She is untrustworthy. I am being reckless, but I see no other option.
“This mission could crash in a moment,” she cautions. “You might not make it out with your head.”
“I’d rather die knowing I tried than live with having not done anything at all.”
She smiles at that, white teeth flashing. Treason never felt so good.
. . .
We’re in position, near minutes left until freedom or failure.
I’m jittery, my breath coming out in fast puffs. Air in the Dome is strangely cold, as if it senses danger.
Explosives chip at the Dome, sending waves of heat. Any moment we could break through.
An enforcer seizes me from behind. Panic floods my veins. They shouldn’t be here. Scarlett said we had time.
I realize it.
Trusting her was a mistake. I don’t expect her to stab me in the back. Suspicion was drowned out by foolhardiness. Now I will pay the price.
. . .
No light reaches the cell, no hope either.
Execution. That is the punishment for treason.
I was naive. And now it is too late. I am never going to see my little brother again.
Finally, they bring me out for my sentence. My pounding heart drowns out the noise of the crowd. I am terrified.
Bang!
A gun goes off.
The world spirals into chaos. Screams fill my ears.
And suddenly Scarlett is next to me, unlocking my shackles.
“Did you miss me?” she says, her voice honey.
Time to finish this.
. . .
Carefulness pays off.
. . .
The world outside is more beautiful than expected. There are lush trees of green and birds that sing sweet melodies.
Noah and Mother stand next to me. Hands intertwined, we will not let go. Freedom at last.
by submission | Jan 4, 2025 | Story |
Author: Simon Kerr
Iru glanced down past the beast’s flank, twin pulsars shining in the dark below, rotating once every ninety seconds. The race began when the pulses aligned. Scanning the other racers, she accessed her synaptic implant, modulating heart rate and blood pressure, throttling adrenaline. The recursive nanovirus she’d introduced earlier was having some effect, but at least seventy percent of the others still seemed intact. Without that edge, she stood little chance of winning, and the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
Accessing the data sphere, time slowed to an atomic tick as she dived down into code. The virus had grown unexpectedly, fractal razors viciously hacking away at the implants of those it encountered. As she reached out with a newly constructed function, a lance of pain, like a needle in the eyeball, penetrated her defenses. That could happen only if the virus had been modified. Someone else was in here with her. She traced code markers back to their source, approached an unfamiliar node, like some dark, ominous cavern. A dim spark of consciousness waited inside, surrounded by the vague forms of gigantic white cells, autonomous defensive systems designed to consume foreign intruders. Only one other person in the race could navigate the sphere like she could—Grey, her old mentor. And fortunately, she had no qualms about killing him, right here and now. She launched a little surprise of her own devising, straight into the node, watching as it imploded, before turning to correct the virus.
Coming up out of the datasphere, she smiled inwardly as, one by one, critical systems in the other racers’ implants went offline. Some would fail to start, others would follow a bogus course, still others would simply explode. The twin pulsars aligned, their radioactive decay signalling the start, as Iru slammed the neural shunt of her behemoth into overdrive.
by submission | Jan 3, 2025 | Story |
Author: Jean Faux
I wonder if I have a little door that opens up at the back of my head. It wouldn’t have a handle. It would be one of those doors that you push in the right place and it softly springs open.
If it opened I wonder what someone would see. Perhaps there’s a brain there, soft and pink to the touch. Or maybe someone would peer in and it would just be darkness. They might call in, “Hello!” and it would echo off the inside of my skull and find its way back out through that little doorway. Or maybe there’s a little man sitting in there on a stool and he’s doing all the thinking for me. It would be lonely, except he would live through me. He would make all my decisions and control all my actions. He would know all my secrets, our secrets. Or would they be his secrets? What if he’s keeping things from me? That might be a burden.
I think what would worry him the most though, is the thought that he has a little door in the back of his head.
by submission | Jan 2, 2025 | Story |
Author: Timothy Wilkie
Swathed in star shine and hidden behind the sun was our destination. I couldn’t wait to be buried in the bosom of old mother earth where the worms and insects thrived on bacteria not chemicals. A long time ago I threw away my mother for life among the stars. I had forgotten my ties and the further I went away the more fragile my bonds became until they shattered like glass.
Now that we were near, I felt entanglements with star charts and plasma drives start to loosen. But it was a dark world that appeared once we were past Sol. It still burned as hot as ever but there was no earth shine. No emerald-colored oceans and no blue skies. The clouds were so thick that they denied the sun. I had dreamed of her when I was drifting through infinity. Humans what had they done? I thought as my spirit entwined with the dead.
Was it long ago or yesterday that I left your green forest and blue skies. Only moments ago, I had left my ship to shuttle home. My captain and crew waited in an orbit out beyond Sol. Millions of miles around the sun on the cusp of the solar system they waited for my return with joyful news of home.
They called out to me, but I couldn’t answer for there was no way I could translate my disappointment to them. Such was my only solace earth, my dwelling place amongst the vast ever-changing cosmos.
Earth sustained echo pings in my ears as if to remind me of my loss. No! What had I thrown away? It was a dead planet I had returned to.
I made the horizon rise on my viewer in hope that maybe some had burrowed in deep into bomb shelters, caverns, or old mines. It must have been a surprise attack because humans had given up their defense systems centuries ago. This husk of a planet left drifting in space just to show the universe it could happen here.
What was the human persona, our sin, our crime? Did we love too much or was it we just couldn’t forgive? Setting my beacon for my mothership I turned my back on Oasis Earth yet again.
