Angel was used to doors shutting in his face, the slap of glass sliding doors, the definitive clunk of plastic automatic doors, even the thump of an old fashioned wooden door. On Earth, people live with shut doors and masked faces. Angel went barefaced for his missionary work. He was used to ...

The Terran ambassador arrived in a richly decorated shuttle, bearing several barrels of unfiltered ayula and decked in fabrics that shimmered under the Ryexian sun. The visit was unexpected, so no troops met him at the spaceport to ensure his safety, but he spared no expense and immediately ...

"Iljek, it's time for another piece." The Interplanetary Artist Laureate, holder of the Sigil of Creativity, founder of the Union of Visionary Crafters, chair of the Board of Humanities at Reykjavik University of the Arts, leaned back in his lounge chair and put his porn on mute, giving his ...

Herbert Mumble was proud of his house. He had every right to be: he'd spent nearly a decade compiling it. Most of his friends had bought discount single-structure mansions in the Midwest and used a portal to get to work, but Herbert wasn't the type to buy pre-fab. Herbert was an artist. It ...

K'dackis was slivercaster, scout and herder of wildfeeds, piping when needed, but always in pursuit of the genuine driveway effect. She was constantly sisbertized by the right or the wrong people, surfing the waves of condemnation and approval as she launched onto her next coffee-spitter. She ...

All through college, the three of us were best friends. When we graduated in '18, Bob and I joined the Galactic Defense Force and got shipped off to the Sirius Sector, but Dmitri's calling was Postdoctoral research, studying Xenobiology in the Vega system. We tried to keep in touch, but you ...

It's my first time at the Persomod. Tann, who's been my best friend since my family moved to Set, took me as a surprise gift for my birthday. We planned it carefully; Mom and Dad are traditionalists, static to the core. Let their only daughter get a personality graft? No, thank you. I ...

"Who can blame them for what they do?" Sergeant Dobbs sipped his coffee as he leaned back in the patrol car, musing to Lieutenant Carson. Through the windshield, the morning throngs of people left their homes and crowded the streets on their way to work and life as they knew it. "I can blame ...

The rosy Martian sunrise had just dusted over the white curtains on Beth's bedroom window when her parents heard the wild thudding of eight-year-old feet charging their door like a herd of wild horses. Marlene groaned and stuck her head under the pillow as a small fist tapped earnestly on the ...