Unusual Convictions

The sun speaks to me. That's not hyperbole or metaphor. The sun—the one you're picturing, the burning ball of gas that we measure our days and years against—it speaks to me. With words. It's had a century or so to deduce our languages from radio waves. I'm speculating. It's cagey on the subject. I know… Continue reading Unusual Convictions

Mind Reader

"What the hell is this?" Aixa was distrustful of police to begin with, but this was just blatantly wrong. The fact that they'd let her—a known black market dealer—see it only revealed their desperation. It didn't make her feel good about her prospects of being released. They wouldn't want her to go spreading rumors. "I… Continue reading Mind Reader

A98 in Progress

The city was bedding down for the night; the city of analysts and wrench-turners, of school children and factory workers and project managers, that is. The Night City—that parasite that succeeded in entangling itself within and around its daytime sibling without strangling it, that sunless city of teal-lighted windows scattered among the daytime's disused towers… Continue reading A98 in Progress

Stealing Secrets From the Dead

She didn't feel a pulse, and he wasn't breathing. He was dead; the dumb kid was dead. But River wasn't about to call the authorities. Her little 27-hour tea shop enjoyed the best Net connection on the planet because she'd tapped into the government hardline by digging down to it through the basement. It made… Continue reading Stealing Secrets From the Dead

The Encryption Ward

Sawyer Trill was intuitive, observant, and a quick learner. He was a talented coder. Dealt a different hand he could have led a comfortable happy life. Instead, the most responsible role model he'd had was his mom's hush dealer—guy called himself the Glass Man, and everyone else did too because his real name didn't matter.… Continue reading The Encryption Ward

Down to Business

"Sit down." The badge on his shoulder armor said POLICE, but he was on the wrong side of the law—the way it's written, anyway. The smoky black visor of his helmet had a spiderweb crack on one side and fresh beads of splatter on the other. He spun his pistol in quick circles on the red… Continue reading Down to Business

Before the Storm

Lamb calmly crossed the long entryway of the lobby, the wooden heels of his thousand-dollar authentic leather oxfords—from genetically unique cattle, not those clone farm abominations—clicked with each step upon the quartz floor like a metronome, a prelude to the requiem. Though, the impressive space was designed such that the sounds of the lobby lived… Continue reading Before the Storm