"If you had nothing to hide, why did you fire off all the escape pods and try to scuttle the ship?" The lanky captain looked like a wax manikin who'd spent a little time in an oven, his features drawn and sullen. His bottom lip quivered uncontrollably and his pink, swollen eyes sat atop gaunt,… Continue reading Done Playing Nice
Category: Creative Writing
Shells on Shaula
Polonium was coming down like snow. Big flakes were torn apart by the little dust devils that ran around causing chaos in the daylight hours. The constant reactions between the radioactive flakes and the atmosphere gave everything a flickering blue glow. It would have been beautiful if it weren't lethal. Kellyn stalked the streets virtually… Continue reading Shells on Shaula
Existential Risk Management
What is an acceptable level of risk when tempting existential threats; the very future of humanity, or the universe itself? How's a fifty-fifty chance of obliteration sound? Seems high. One in a hundred? Astronomically high, no question. How about one in a billion? This is where the average person begins to feel reasonably safe, but… Continue reading Existential Risk Management
Line in the Sand
Takada walked along the empty stretch of shoreline looking for sea glass, his coral-colored hoodie the sole point of color as far as he could see. The ocean tried to shrug off the washed out fog that kept its cheek pressed to the earth, but it was a battle it couldn’t win. He stopped at… Continue reading Line in the Sand
The Legacy We Deserve
They skipped from star to star like a stone on the surface of a placid lake. At each bright point they gorged themselves, ripping through the magnetic flux lines like a cellophane wrapper and exposing the sticky, savory flesh within, fattening up for the next jaunt. The next long winter of the vacuum. In some… Continue reading The Legacy We Deserve
Jubilee
Jay and Warren sat above 352nd Avenue, their feet dangling 1,500 meters in the air as they ate sandwiches and synthetic fruit from their lunch pails. They worked third shift; it was just after nightfall. "The Jubilee holiday is coming up—you have any plans?" asked Warren. The big man crossed his ankles and swung his… Continue reading Jubilee
Countdowns
Ten. Nine. Lydia remembered carnival rides that shot her into the air like a slingshot. She white-knuckled the restraints and screamed at the top of her little eight-year-old lungs, but she kept her eyes open, and her smile broadened. Eight. Seven. She remembered the leader numbers on old film strips—actual cellulose, before they were digital—circling… Continue reading Countdowns
Fragments of Mutiny
Do the cave eels of Europa hunt by vision, or sound? Heat, maybe? He hoped it wasn't heat. Bay stood still in the ice cave for a long time, waiting until he was absolutely sure the crew had departed. There'd been a mutiny—not against him; he was just a general staff member, and a junior… Continue reading Fragments of Mutiny
Ice Bath
What idiot called this thing an ice bath? Floyd had never been in cryosleep before, and he was starting to wonder if he'd made a mistake. He'd had a hard enough time putting in his breathing tube and sealing it over his face—it felt like using a snorkel while his head was in a plastic… Continue reading Ice Bath
Phantasma Non Grata
He introduced himself as Dade, but Margaret didn't really believe that was his name. She couldn't put her finger on what it was—he was polite, soft-spoken, and handsome in a boyish way—but she didn't trust him in the least, and now she rather wanted to return to the picnic. She never should have wondered off.… Continue reading Phantasma Non Grata
Warmup Pages 