by submission | Oct 2, 2022 | Story |
Author: Rainbow Heartshine
We have enough feathers for a couple of mattresses now.
I’m not such an awful person as to use so, but how are you supposed to dispose of angel down?
Whether they count as the real thing is over my head, theologically. It shouldn’t be. When she showed up and explained, I could get it. Ancient saints might’ve made some mistakes about her kind, but Spock would be able to do the math–and what a beautiful calculation. When we meet, the shape she takes is the optimal solution to the equation of her nature and my desires.
The shining silver demon that produces is out of my dreams, but the kind innocence on her face, that’s her contribution, I could never have imagined. It gave me pause the first night, but she assured me not every stereotype about her kind is wrong. The demon and innocence are both the truth. We play the games you’d think.
Usually.
Then one night instead of shining silicone bat wings that glowed with starscapes when the lights were off, she had feathers, sparkly and pure, like something off a Christmas card.
It was alright until I got my hand in them.
I pulled every single one out. I have every night since. Things taken off her body still exist when she stops manifesting, so the fluffy irony builds up–my succubus girlfriend’s as gay as I am, and it’s filling my closet with angel feathers.
She says it’s delicious catharsis, but I worry. Hatred is poison, to her kind. She says she would choke if it was her I was hating, but some poisons are so subtle. I loathe myself for desiring this. I can do the math that lets her bear the violence for me without becoming the object of my hate, but I worry, not well enough. Never has that stupid “Lesbian sex as sushi” metaphor been more apt as my hope I’m cutting this spiritual fugu right.
Her answer to my fear is confusing, or at least I want it to be. She says if we stop this here, that will be the hate that brings her death.
I say I’ll never sleep in a bed made of hate, and beg her to find other food, the nights I’m like this, but it’s no use, we’re in love.
Can you see the flaw in my math? I can, tonight–sorry if you hoped this would be one of those riddle stories. I just got the answer, so I’m telling you.
I’ve built a new life, replaced everything church gave me, even, I find myself thinking, as she walks through that door perpendicular to everything she uses to get into my bedroom, spiritual transcendence. Yet something misses. An ineffable comfort I can’t give a name to. If I can’t find it with her, where will I ever?
She has the answer, tonight. It freaked me right out when she showed up looking entirely human and dressed in a wedding gown–until she took my hand and laid it on her body and the fabric burst into flames like I was carved from the core of a star, and revealed her unearthly demon-flesh underneath. The fire is warm, like kisses, but looks as hellish and dreadful as the darkness I feel inside, playing this game. Smoke rises and ash falls as we slowly, relishingly destroy the dress. The smoke smells of roasting marshmallows, and vanishes through the ceiling like this is a videogame.
The ash is the solution. Where it lands, it reassembles itself into beautiful, silk bedsheets.
by submission | Oct 1, 2022 | Story |
Author: James Moran
In the days when Earth was small the other planets eyed it hungrily and argued over how they would split it up.
Like a mother protecting her young, the Moon circled Earth, a wary eye on each of the planets. She visited the ears of Venus and Mercury until she finally convinced them to forge an alliance with Earth and with her.
Still she was apprehensive.
Out of desperation she took a bite from Earth. Instead of feeding herself with that bite, she fed the bite with herself. In her stomach it grew and gathered strength. Once satisfied, she spat upon Earth a young man who stood upon strong limbs and yielded a sword and shield.
The sword flickered. The shield rattled. The young man fell to his knees, shivering in fear.
Go, his mother commanded. Protect us from the far planets.
I want to stay with you, Mother, the young man wept.
If you do not go, then I will, the Moon warned.
I will stay here and protect you, the young man argued.
If you stay we’ll perish that much faster. You have one day to decide, the Moon said. Stay here and die with us, or go so that we might survive.
Beneath the weight of fear and disgrace the young man could not even touch his sword.
The Moon disappeared over the horizon. As soon as the young man could no longer see the Moon, the thought of her coming to harm became unbearable. His hands quaked and swelled. He leapt into space armed only with rage. The outer planets hardly had time to grow concerned over this crazed boy before he was upon them cutting their ranks and handily smashing them into one another. Never before had the outer planets fought such an opponent.
Quickly they retreated.
Eager to reunite with his mother and bask in her pride, the young man returned to the inner planets. Yet, spotting the Moon and fragile Earth in the distance, he stopped short.
He glanced back at those outer planets.
Right there, between the hungry outer planets and the defenseless inner planets, he made a new home
by submission | Sep 30, 2022 | Story |
Author: David Barber
Rumour had it that Mother would soon order them to quit the planet, so Six rose early, trying not to wake her sisters as she donned her mask and breather.
Outside, dust swirled around remotes abandoned the previous day by her siblings, who gloved these metal figures from the comfort of the ship.
Alone of her sisters, Six doubted that instruments, no matter how ingenious, could make sense of what happened here. She believed only her human presence, her intuition, might do that. She even removed her mask once to taste the atmosphere, odorous and acrid from a careless past.
So far she had found nothing of note, but she worked urgently and about mid-afternoon was rewarded with an enigmatic find.
Following ruined walls into an area assigned to Twelve, she uncovered a container. She smuggled the tin back to her own diggings before prising it open.
Caution served her well. The silvered ghost inside was a photograph, of a couple arm in arm, squinting into the sun’s brightness. A precious moment from a time before these ancients squandered their planet.
Six brushed the picture with a trembling finger. Of all her siblings, only she had wept at the frail bubbles of glass they sometimes discovered, totems hung in every room, not trusting the dark.
She wondered if this woman loved, or had been loved—
A metal figure loomed over her. Despite being an inferior, Ten was the nearest Six had to an ally amongst her siblings. Still, Six instinctively concealed the find in its tin.
“Mother says we are leaving tomorrow. The remotes are being called in. She said to tell you.”
“But what of our work?” cried Six.
“No time. Mother believes more barbarians are coming.”
“They would not dare!” But the notion that Mother might be wrong was both difficult and dangerous to say. “The Empress would not allow it,” Six added lamely.
After a moment, Ten’s remote shrugged, then turned to follow others plodding back to the ship.
Two had boldly seated herself beside Mother. She had discovered a broken metal blade inscribed with ancient script: STAINLESS, with its notions of purity and innocence, and ST, a shorthand for Saint. Two was convinced the site was the ruin of a church.
Six waited in silence until Mother beckoned her forward.
She didn’t need to point out the photograph contradicted Two’s notions.
“Note the ocean behind them,” Six began. “From the Age of Water, which suggests a date…”
Two interrupted, without Mother reprimanding her.
“The taller one is male. These two are primitives from before the Exodus. I am no prude, but their display of bare limbs is why this distasteful item was concealed.”
Six ploughed on. “Surely we cannot leave without knowing what happened here?”
They had been a rich and privileged folk, a superpower of their own time, yet history had engulfed them just the same. “Finds such as this—”
As she struggled to explain, Ten shoved Twelve forward, her voice triumphant. “A find I saw you thieve from your own sister!”
As the siblings fell to squabbling, Two patted Mother’s arm reassuringly.
“We already know what happened to this world. Their empire fell because of men.”
But Mother only knew that time was short, that enemies circled, and the distant Empress held her precarious title in name only.
“We have nothing to fear,” Two shrugged. “Though perhaps we should move on.”
She glanced slyly at Mother’s tired face.
“Leave everything to me.”
by submission | Sep 29, 2022 | Story |
Author: Tom Neuschafer
William was not a man of science, which would make traveling through time far more difficult than if he were. But what he lacked in scientific genius, he made up for with practical knowledge and perseverance. And he was now a man of tremendous wealth.
William’s first step was to purchase a reliable cryostasis company. This provided him with a consistent and secure means to travel through the ages. His first sleep was brief, just a few decades. In that time, his invested wealth had grown exponentially. He used that wealth to secure the most advanced artificial intelligence available. That intelligence went by the name of Emma. William spoke to her:
“I’m engrossed in a journey through time, Emma. Can you aid me in that journey?”
“Yes,” Emma began, “I believe I can.” And with that, the next phase of William’s journey had begun.
In order for Emma to effectively aid William in his endeavor, she needed to understand his overarching goals and motivations for pursuing them. William explained that he had lost everyone and everything that gave his life meaning and purpose. He needed to redefine his purpose, and give his life new meaning. He decided to devote his time and resources to aiding mankind. He searched for the greatest problem that mankind would ever face. He described his thinking to Emma:
“As long as humanity exists, it can survive and thrive. And as long as the universe exists, humanity can exist. Therefore, we must ensure that there is always a universe for humanity to live in.”
Emma agreed with William’s logic. The issue was that neither human nor artificial intelligence had reached the point where they could reasonably predict what would occur at the end of the universe’s existence. This would come in time. And so William would take his next long sleep. While in stasis, Emma would monitor and contribute to humanity’s development. Once a significant advancement related to William’s goal was reached, Emma would wake him.
Seven-hundred years later, Emma woke William from his sleep.
“What did you find, Emma?”
“In several billion years, the universe will contract until it collapses in on itself. Following this collapse a new universe will be born. In order to ensure the continuation of human life following this event, we will need a vessel strong enough to survive both the pressures of a massive black hole and a Big Bang. This new Big Bang and the universe it will give life to will be where humanity continues on.” William and Emma worked together to envision such a vessel. William then went back into stasis. He would lay there until aging was no longer a problem for humanity.
He awoke a thousand years later. Aging had been eliminated. Trillions of human beings lived and worked without the limitation of a lifespan. Emma had orchestrated the construction of a vessel which would carry all of humanity into a new universe born out of this one. The billions of worlds of humanity all worked toward completion of the vessel. It took their societies another thousand years to complete.
With this vessel, William, Emma, and all of humanity would have the means to travel through an infinite number of future universes. And they did so for eternity.
by submission | Sep 28, 2022 | Story |
Author: Majoki
*It was obvious the indigenous creature was in an expiring condition,* wrdlgrp expressed matter-of-factly to the processing agent handling his arrival.
*Not the issue, wrdlgrp-sln,* the processing agent xtsm shunted back reviewing wrdlgrp’s record of transit. Their forenodes mutually engaged, the experience was made clear to xtsm. *I still do not understand why you intervened. It is forbidden. You know this as a condition of transit to an uncontacted planet.*
Still noded, wrdglp revived a moment for xtsm; the sheer terror of the gangly creature as it was attacked by a sleek predator; the panicked prey’s flailing form so unadapted for the environment; the predator honed in and ready to feast.
xtsm rejected the rationale. *It was a natural event. Exactly why many of us choose to transit to uncontacted worlds. To behold the untouched. But you touched, wrdgrp-sln. You initiated contact. With a sentient.*
wrdlgrp did not try to deny. There was no denying. When noded, two were one. xtsm was wrdlgrp. Except xtsm had not been there. Had not, in the moment of the sentient’s gravest shock at being attacked, felt the wholeness. Because of that wrdlgrp could not let the creature come to harm, such a beautiful, wild creature. That was why wrdlgrp loved to visit uncontacted worlds, experience the vitality and variety of essence. And this sentient’s essence had filled wrdlgrp in its moment of near expiration. *It is beyond explanation. I recognize my wrongness. Understand the need for sanction.*
*Sanction is warranted. Five cycles.* xtsm relayed and disengaged forenodes.
wrdlgrp left the transit control and began sluicing home through the complicated native currents of the red-star world. Five cycles. Forbidden to transit to any uncontacted planet for five cycles. Though he accepted the sanction, it would be difficult. For the creature wrdlgrp had saved on the yellow-star planet had recognized its otherwordly savior. When wrdlgrp had phase-shifted to deter the predator, contact with the sentient was made. It was not like being noded, but there was a flash of recognition for wrdlgrp. The sentient knew. Even through its terror. It knew.
Rejoining the homepod, wrdlgrp expressed the sanction and accepted the sympathies, annoyances and indifferences of the pod. It was to be expected.
What was not to be expected was the image of the sentient that would not go away. The vision of that far-away world. The creature so foreign, so unlike wrdlgrp, but its essence so strong. Its name might just haunt for five cycles. *miranda.*
by submission | Sep 27, 2022 | Story |
Author: Joey Fazzone
“Make it red, make it orange, make it purple, yellow, pink,” he sang, twirled, and danced. “Make it brown, magenta, and any shade you think.”
He winked.
His assistant was about to speak before he whirled again, proclaiming dramatically, “So don’t chew the purist, shoot the jurist, or sob till you’re blue….”
He tripped on the hem of his oversized lab coat.
“…for you are the tourist, to behold the surest procurers of the rarest hues.”
He gasped and collapsed in a heap.
His assistant paid him no mind, as he continued to monitor the screen. “I believe the spectrometer has finished its analysis. Of the colors matched in the gradient, there are no known matches.”
“Let it believe what it wants to believe,” the man explained bitterly. He spat out a hair most likely from his black bushy beard.
“Khronos,” the assistant began.
“Prasino, how long have you been an intern for me?”
The intern answered swiftly and with a measure of defeat in his gravelly voice. “72 months, sir, roughly six years. You know this answer.”
“That I do,” Khronos explained, “My question wasn’t really an explanation of longevity but of your station. My question was the polite way.”
“Polite way?”
“To explain that it’s not your place to question me,” Khronos said sharply.
Prasino was contrite as they shared an uncomfortable silence as Khronos checked the readings.
“No, no, it’s not here!” He growled.
Prasino already knew that but said nothing.
“We have to get to Venezuela. I’ve had a dream about that place. I think it’s our shot.”
They both stared at the screen.
Khronos scratched his head and banged on the screen lightly with his knuckle. “Despite all these gadgets, we have nothing to guarantee the integrity of the software and hardware’s ability fully encompass the precise point on the spectrum we need.”
“We have the seer!”
“She’s not a seer! She just has a great eye for color!”
“An uncanny eye.”
Khronos eyed him warningly. “That’s what I said. ‘Good eye.’ sheesh!” He sighed deeply. “Here we have all this amazing technology, ten years and billions of dollars, and we’re asking that dried-up apricot pit to pick a color out of a rainbow.”
“A very rare color,” Prasino added.
“Not as rare as the truest blue, but yes, on that gradient, it is the rarest color.”
“Run the scan, sir?”
Khronos bit his lip. Each pulse from the scan cost the company millions, and if he was wrong…
“For the postulate,” Prasino encouraged.
“For the money,” Khronos groaned. He put on his blast shades. “Do it.”
Prasino hit the button. A deep hum rattled the small room, as a motor the size of a small apartment building hummed, and then a flash of light.
Within moments the scan was complete. Prasino read the screen.
“I can’t look,” Khronos shuddered. “If I have to upcharge him for another scan he will turn me into one of those flying monkeys.”
“And we won’t get paid,” Prasino added.
“True!” Khronos snatched the report and breathed a sigh of relief. “Today is a good day!”
“Emerald?”
“Emerald! That’s our gold! The color is ready for extraction and is located outside of the city, thirty miles into the rainforest. We can siphon what we want!”
“Excellent news,” Prasino said with a smile. “Shall I call Oswaldo?”
“Yes,” Khronos grinned, “Tell the Wizard that he and his city are about to be another satisfied customer of Hugh Hues!”
“Who is Hugh?” Prasino asked.
Khronos’s eyes grew misty and mysterious. “That, my dear assistant, is a question for another time. After we get paid! For now, let’s get moving on the extraction process.”
“Yes sir.”
