Staying Productive

Fortunately, the Aeacus had dropped out of fourspace before taking it on the chin; if it hadn't, its pieces would be scattered from here to Pavo-Indus. There'd be nothing left to investigate. Then John Faldswell would be at home, alone in his meager apartment, spending another evening spiraling away from productive ways to stave his… Continue reading Staying Productive

Tête-à-tête dans les Toilettes

There were two stalls, and the first was occupied. Ambassador Han preferred to use the toilet in private, but he didn't have time to be choosy. Something wasn't sitting right in his stomach—probably those ugly land lobsters they served raw last night. Damn outworld food. He finished his business and reached for a sanitary square,… Continue reading Tête-à-tête dans les Toilettes

Wired

There was a portrait on the wall, and for some reason Kilbourn couldn't take her eyes off it. It was black ink on canvas that had grown sickly yellow-green long ago. She couldn't decide if the face was a man's or a woman's. Every time she thought she'd made up her mind those eyes seemed… Continue reading Wired