Spider BytesThey waited at the mouth of the service corridor, the mezzanine railing just a few meters away. Above them somewhere, the heavy thumping of the security spider marked its progress in its pursuit of them. Across an open space broken at intervals by tree trunks and greenery, the armored glass of the laboratory stretched floor to ceiling, and out of sight in either direction.Spider Bytes1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
"That going to present a problem?" A rhetorical question. Mett knew Gaez wouldn't have signed on for this if it wasn't going to present a challenge.
"Working on it" the disinterested reply. Gaez was more interested in their stalker.
They broke cover and sprinted left, hugging the wall. Cameras hung limp and blind at frequent intervals from the ceiling, one of the many indicators that Gaez had taken ownership of the facility's less deadly security systems.
A whine from above, rising in pitch, was abruptly punctuated by a volley of sabot rounds fired across the garden atrium into the laboratory windows. Large pieces of
ProloguePainPrologue3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
Tearing, shaking, screaming.
Pain shrieks through me, plucking me from my dreams. I fight it. Fighting is why I was created, combat is why I was born, conflict and loss dominated my training, and when the chill of biological refrigerants crept into my veins the sharp cold voice of System reminded me that in Cryo I would not dream.
I am dreaming now.
Cryo is over, and the War is waiting. The War can wait a little longer.
It’s been 6 years since I was decanted, gasping and slippery with amnio-gel, onto the cold smooth plastic of the Natal Frame. In that time I have never once been allowed to sleep past revilie, and I have no hope of it now, no frame of reference for disobedience…
...but the pain. It’s grasping, pawing, crying out for me… and my only hope of fighting it is to stay in the dream. The dream is the same as always, charcoal and white, gritty, flat, tasteless. Training, testing, more training, more testing, punishment for failure, different punishme
College writing, Volcano Exploration“God, I’m so jittery…” Mag muttered as he took his seat. He glanced at the energy drink sitting on his desk, just a few inches from his left hand. He hadn’t opened it, and looking at how he was shaking already, he didn’t need to. He swallowed, wishing he could get rid of his extra nerves as easily as the saliva. The joystick was familiar in his hand, the rover’s readouts and displays all normal. But he couldn’t relax; as he throttled up the remote operated vehicle, his heartbeat increased along with the motor speed. He kept thinking he saw another one of those…things on the camera feed.College writing, Volcano Exploration1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
It made him wish that he had never noticed that weird blotch when reviewing the footage. Volcanic exploration had been easy, fun, all of that, right up until he noticed that one little detail, recorded it, and then replayed it over and over.
“Main drive, all normal,” he heard himself say. His voice was squeakier than the last few dozen ti
fun with nanobots “Wanna see something else?”fun with nanobots1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
“With your tattoo?”
“Yeah. Here, put your hand on it. Grab my arm.”
Clove did so.
“Alright.” Adriene said, closing her eyes again.
Clove stared at her hand and waited for a few seconds. Nothing happened.
She looked up at Adriene. “Should I-- oh!” Clove pulled her hand away, “it moved!”
Adriene hid her arms under the table and looked around for their parents. They were all still talking in the other room.
“It moves?” Clove whispered.
Adriene rested her elbows on the table. “Grab my hands,” she said, wiggling her fingers.
Clove gave Adriene a look of suspicion, but that just made Adriene smile and wiggle her fingers with greater enthusiasm.
They Shall Leave NoneThe Arnen are beautiful people, even more so when they are angry. Consequently, we have been seeing a lot of heartrendingly beautiful people killing us. We are getting slaughtered, and a few people are beginning to fear extinction. The few voices of reconciliation were lost in the trumpeting of ultra-racism – having non-humans to hate and fear turns a lot of supposedly reasonable people into bigots.They Shall Leave None3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
My name is Turande Givenchy, and my great-great-great-grandfather was one of the men who helped Carter unearth Tutankhamun. So, in a way, my family is one of the contributing causes to this debacle.
Archaeology loved Ancient Egypt, with its death obsession and plethora of divinities. Everywhere you went, mummies abounded and pyramids peeked from sandy concealment. The treasures were stupefying and the real mysteries easily glossed over. Reputations were made and fortunes founded, either by toil or theft.
Decades later SETI received a polite communiqué from deep space, formally no
still dangerous, out there- - -still dangerous, out there4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
Kota groaned and sat up in his tent, it was the middle of the day but he really didn't want to be outside so being cooped up in his tent seemed to be the best idea. He flicked his hazel hair out of his eyes and decided to head into the forest instead of being in his stuffy tent. Slowly pulling himself up he decided to change into his red shirt and he left it unbuttoned as he couldn't bare much more heat. Walking out of his tent he avoided the stares of the other delinquents and began to run into the forest.
- - -
Omid looked around nervously, the forest dark and dim despite the bright sun (perhaps he had travelled too far away from camp). He'd wanted to get away from people for a bit, and especially wanted to avoid Elamere. He'd need to talk to her eventually, but as of now he was taking the cowards way out. Abel, too, he felt nervous around – there wasn't much he could do about those injuries and he felt useless and in the way every time he went near their
Ballerina“Sir, there is one asset available that isn’t in this plan.” The lieutenant had that look on his face, the one heroes and dead men wear going into battle.Ballerina4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
The General, a weary man weary of the war took in the look, processed, and decided what the hell. At this stage of things a little insanity might be comic relief. It had been a long time since he’d properly roasted a junior officer. He scrunched his face into the look he’d spent a career refining to mean this had damn well better be good.
“So educate us,” he said, nodding to either side at the fifteen senior officers gathered around the planning table. “Just what have we all overlooked?” For two weeks he and his staff had been laying plans to mount a desperation counter attack over-hull to open a path through the K’chaing to a dock, hold it open long enough for a supply ship to unload and relieve the siege. Both rations and ammunitio
College writing, Avatar Forest“Hey, are you okay?” The speaker was a young boy of about ten; he wore a tunic, leggings, and leather boots, topped off with a green cloak decorated by intricate swirls of silver stitching along the hem. A purple dragon the size of a small cat hovered at his side.College writing, Avatar Forest1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
A little girl, perhaps six, looked up from where she had collapsed on the forest floor; the area immediately around her was cratered and burnt. Her clothes had a much more modern look to them than the boy’s—light blue shorts, and a t-shirt emblazoned with a rainbow and silhouetted scenery, each fabricated as a single seamless piece. She wore a flexible phone wrapped around her forearm like a bracelet. “S-stay away—I’m dangerous!” She said, wiping tears and soot away from her eyes, which only covered her face with dirt from her hands. “I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Hey, calm down,” the boy said, his silver eyes softening. “I’m Ian—I
Augmented Sports"So, have you ever watched Augs in a game before?" The voice was gentle, jovial, a verbal smile.Augmented Sports1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
"Well...No," Sam replied, looking over at the speaker. They were all clustered around in holospace, everyone's avatar in a virtual stadium. In years past, all of these energetic fans would have either been squeezed in a real (and really expensive) stadium, or else watching from the vidscreen in their homes. Nowadays though, the comfort and convenience of staying home could easily be combined with the wild, exhilarating experience of watching the games alongside tens of thousands of other fans. Everyone could pick their viewpoint, changing it dynamically to follow their favorite player, or the ball, whatever they wanted--and of course, everything would be recorded for later viewing in holographic 3-D, so that it could be slowed down and replayed frame by frame. Augs were just too fast to watch at normal speed, but people still watched the gamestreams live, just to get the sense of how fast f
College writing, Ghost Library"I must admit, you're one of the only ones who comes into this library. I'm certainly not complaining though--it's nice to have the company of the living every now and then."College writing, Ghost Library1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
She nodded. "I know. One of my good friends was in here for a while, before he moved on...while I was visiting him, I noticed that you don't get many visitors in here, so I thought I'd fix that."
"Very generous of you," the ghost said, taking a seat across from her. His face was sort of wispy, the eyes and other features blurred by mist. "So, is there anything an old ghost can do for you, here in Memory's Vault?"
"Well, your name would be nice," she replied. "I'm Xia."
"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Xia," the ghost said. "Sadly, I can neither introduce myself--I've forgotten who I was--nor shake your hand, for reasons I don't think I have to explain."
"that's fine," Xia said, taking out a small pad and writing something on it. "What's it like, here in the Library?" She asked, looking around at the racks of glowing
College writing, Rana Room Rana stepped into her room; it had been a long day, and she needed to unwind. She looked at a large board on the wall, where spent ammunition shells were arranged in three columns, labeled at the top “WINS”, “DRAWS”, and “LOST”. The latter two columns formed a fourth category, “AWAITING REMATCH”. Each shell had a name, date, and place etched into it; additional marks and symbols denoted kills, wounds, or bloodless victory. Well, the victories were comforting, but there were all the rematches she hadn’t gotten to yet…no, she needed other ways to de-stress.College writing, Rana Room1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
The workbench had a weapon on it that was in the middle of being field stripped, upgraded, and repaired. Or at least one of the three, anyway. Rana picked up the parts, turning the cool steel and fabricated plastic over in her fingers, then setting them back in their places. She picked up a wrench, tossed it to herself a few tim