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Twinkle Twinkle Uncle Floyd
“My names is Tom Hannigan. I live in New York.”
He said to reassure himself.
“That explains the who. Now the what and the where. What am I doing?”
Tom got a look at his surroundings.
“I’m strapped down in a chair.”
It wasn’t an ordinary chair. For one thing it was facing up instead of forward.
“Where am I?”
It was very dark where Tom was but if he had to bet he was in a capsule.
“Try to remember…”
It was coming to him.
“New…New Jersey!”
Tom smiled and laughed like an idiot.
“I’m in New Jersey. God awful New Jersey!”
He laughed again but quickly stopped to think.
“Why am I in New Jersey?”
Tom said aloud.
“I can answer that one.”
There was some static feedback and a voice started speaking to him.
“This is ground control to Major Tom.”
it said.
"Can you hear me Major Tom? Over."
“Who are you?”
Tom asked.
“You know who I am.
:iconjeffreyrebowlski:JeffreyRebowlski 7 9
F21: Shapeshifting Space Dragon
The rebel scum crouched behind the containment field, his shoulders heaving, bound but only just. Private Lawson had never seen a gaze that feral on a man before or eyes that yellow. Worse, he had torn his way through three patrols. Literally.
Maintenance would be picking gears out of the vents for months if they were lucky.
“Nothing will save you from execution,” the General said, “But your cooperation will earn you a merciful, quick death. We will find your friends. Help us. Do the right thing before you die.”
“Why don't you let me out of here and ask again?”
He growled.
“Do you want to know how we execute rebels in the outer rim?”
Instead of a civilized answer, the wild man spit on the containment field, the moisture sizzling.
Long periods of isolation was about the only thing Private Lawson could think of to cause this much madness. Someone, somewhere (one of the Triad Warlords maybe) had locked him up and it broke him. The General wa
:iconnamelessshe:NamelessShe 2 5
No Bars Hold
    The distinct sound of the chains clanked as the armored guards on either side of me ushered me forward, my wrists and ankles shackled to impede my movements.  The snicker teasing upon my lips threatened to reveal my plans too soon; the fools still thought that such primitive bindings could hold me.  The modern day had no concept of the depths of my powers, their technology was obsolete.
    They’d learn that soon enough.
    As we slowly walked toward the containment cell slated for me, I looked up at the ceiling at the fluorescent lights lining the aisle between the holding cells.  It barely took any concentration, but closing my eyes, I focused my talents.  Reopening them, the red glow in my eyes betrayed my intentions, and the officers barely had a chance to see it before the lightbulb before us shattered, the others following in a swift line of succession, bathing the aisle and holding cells in dar
:icononewiththestars:OneWithTheStars 2 7
Rolamaton Tales - The Foundation - Part I
The Foundation – Part I
An eight-year-old is determined to give a future to a group of scrapped robots
* * *
22 February 1993
The little curly-haired, chubby girl had been waiting in front of the entrance arch of the town hall for quite some time. Nobody had paid attention to her. If anybody had stopped by to look at her, it had been because of her curly, rebel hair that made her head look like the crown of an oak tree.
When someone finally acknowledged her presence, it had been almost three hours.
“What are you doing here, little one?” someone inquired. The little girl lifted her head to look at the owner of that voice, a brunette in her forties with a kind face.
“I wanna talk to the mayor,” announced the girl, looking at the woman with imploring eyes. The woman smiled and uncovered her teeth, the kind of smile that the little girl knew to be one of embarrassment and not genuine. The woman's eyes blinked and her eyes rol
:iconliadospetti:liadospetti 1 0
Broken Cell - Chapter 1
Broken Cell
Buzzing through the air, a single fly. One solitary little insect looking for freedom. Swiftly making its way through the house. Landing to take a short break on a yellow couch before it buzzes on. Flying through the living room, looking for an escape. Resting on a pink, flamingo shaped lamp, on a red apple, on the family photo. Bravely taking a break on a nose, flying away quickly, almost smashed by a hand. Finally, there it is. An open window! Out into the fresh air and the warm sunlight. Up, up, up towards the blue sky. Not a single cloud clutters the sky. No birds are soaring through the air. Only the fly buzzes on, up, up and up. Closer and closer to the baby blue heaven. The fly lands again, he walks proudly upside down over the sky, invisible to the human eyes on the earth below. Quickly he walks over the surface. He is searching, still looking for a way out, and finally, there it is. A crack. Just big enough for a simple fly. He walks into the crack in the sky, movi
:iconlinealonhoiden:Linealonhoiden 1 0
FFM 2019 Day 20: Intergalactic Prison Escape
  She was caught stealing from the Martian Museum of Human History.  Luckily, the prison guards were too squeamish around humans to discover the lightbulb stuffed in her bra.  A filament jabbed into the forcefield circuitry was all it took.  She ignored a guilty twinge as she escaped in a commandeered spaceship, her cellmate’s cries fading.
:iconwizardandgalaxy:WizardandGalaxy 1 7
There wasn't a logic to it. She wished there was, had felt there was, perhaps, at the beginning, but it was hard to keep a secret from yourself when you were an AI. you could pretend, but instead of remaining unsaid it was always there, explicit, and it was impossible to isolate the thought when every time she considered what she was doing it came back to her. This isn't right.
It didn't matter that it wasn't violent, or that the people involved had no idea what was going on and probably never would, really. And when she thought of why she wanted to do it, she could only reason that some of them deserved it.
She knew David wouldn't have thought that way. He would have said: There is potential as long as their is life. For good and bad.
There remained that, no matter what. Potential. But the point of no return was fat approaching, and the built up momentum of all the things she had been setting in motion made it more and more difficult to stop with every passing moment. W
:iconcreativelycliche:creativelycliche 0 2
A Good Medkit
Brianna’s hand burns with pain. The tourniquet stopped most of the bleeding, and the skin is beginning to curl around towards the exposed bones, but the pain is always at the forefront of her thoughts – along with the knowledge that the tourniquet is killing her hand in its own way, that the wound is open to alien infection, that a clean amputation is beyond her reach. She misses nothing quite so much in this strange place as a good medkit.
The three of them move through the faerie ship like shadows. They find food chambers near what would be the ship’s hull, if it had one: an assortment of fungi sprout from the walls and floor, and plants Brianna doesn’t know grow with their leaves outside the ship, catching whatever sun- or starlight they can while their fruits hang in easy reach.
“Faerie food,” says Krati, hunger and hesitation warring in their eyes. “Who knows what it’ll do to us.”
“At home they say eating faerie food mean
:icongdeyke:GDeyke 1 10
    When she came to, all the warning lights were blinking at her. Impact imminent. Low oxygen. Emergency power cells depleted. No signal. They weren't very bright, but combined with the pain in her head, they were blinding. The oxygen indicator caught her attention. If she didn't get out soon, this capsule would quickly become her casket. But it was so hard to think. Where were the sensors?
    Blown out. Great. Without a clue as to whether the air outside was even breathable, she had the delightful choice of slowly asphyxiating or busting out and doing it all at once. She wished her head didn't hurt so much. Then she could put some serious thought into this. Maybe if she pieced together how she got here in the first place, it would provide her some clues.
    A quick look around told her this was one of the escape capsules from her ship. She was the only occupant, so she was probably forced in by someone else. But who? Why? Her head throbbed. Was that fr
:icontobaeus:Tobaeus 1 1
PuTTY in My Hand
“Do you know the best thing about working with bots?”
     V635 regarded Detlev as he sat on the edge of the desk, stuffing his fleshbag face with pre-packaged salad.
     “It’s not that you can crack 512-bit encryption in the time it takes me to do a crossword. It’s not that you’ve got no fingerprints. It’s not even that I don’t care when a machine takes the fall.” He leaned towards V635’s lens, some kind of disgusting emulsified condiment caught in the corners of his mouth. “It’s that even if they catch me, even if they somehow don’t believe that you were the brains of the operation, there is no way we will ever, ever end up in the same prison.”
     V635 made a grab for his throat with its manipulator, but found it could not quite reach.
     “See what I mean?” Detlev took a step back. “No guards. No wal
:icondamonwakes:DamonWakes 2 4
Wings of freedom:Chapter 7: Pantera
Chapter 7: Pantera
“Ten minutes in, and you have already found a way to mess up, Hans!” Hans shouts as the scouting trio hides under fire.
“Alright, Valentine, make a move on the left flank, Hans, help me cover him.” pantera directs.
“Got it.” Valentine takes off running. Hans proceeds to fire wildly, covering himself as best he could.
After about two hours of aimless walking, fighting, almost dying, repeating over and over;
The trio signaled the main group to approach.
After that the three started off back to the base, on foot.
“So…. you did good guys.” Hans says wiping sweat from his fore-head.
“Thank you, Buskirk.” Valentine acknowledges.
“Ah, yes, we all did quite well didn’t we?” Pantera chuckles.
“Okay, dude, what is your personality?” Has asks tiredly.
“I don’t know, I’ve been described has a handsome rouge? Does that help?”
“No, surprisingly, not at a
:iconthatyummygamer:ThatYummygamer 0 0
A Collection of Quotes from Apollo and Ares 1
“It’s one small step for man, One giant leap for mankind.”
“So how long do we have to sit here on our asses?”
“Till something goes wrong, or till they leave.”
“How long do we wait after things go wrong before we save them?”
“Depends on what goes wrong? Lem blows up? We go right in. Fails to launch? We wait until their O2 is about gone or till they decide to open the airlock.”
“And if nothing happens?”
“We do nothing, just watch history unfold.”......
“What do you think we’ll find there? Life?” Jesus Garcia asked
“Doubt it. If we do what do you think it’ll look like? Britney Spears in a red jumpsuit? Little Green men?” Nick Adams Laughed.
“More likely Large Red Men. Lower gravity means taller bodies, red skin to blend in with the surface. They might have fur to insulate against the cold.” replied Chen Wong.
“Space furries? Sounds nice to
:iconstartrek1011:startrek1011 0 0
The End at the Beginning
Everything was coming together here.
He slammed his shoulder into the sandstone wall, breathing hard. After everything, after the killing, and the lies, and the war, here they were, at the beginning of it all. It might as well have been the beginning of time, and maybe it was. It was the beginning of any time that mattered.
The gunfire was constant. Probably all the guns in the universe, firing all at once. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had been here before, that this was somehow just another futile attack on a fortress he had thrown himself at a hundred times already.
He glanced over the sandstone wall, looking over the low canyon. It felt like he was at one end of a shallow bowl, and on the other end the valley the stone ran straight up a thousand meters, dotted with windows. Somewhere up there was the thing that had started all of this. When his handlers sent him on his first mission, flying across the cosmos and every dimension of space-time he knew about, they had done it
:iconcreativelycliche:creativelycliche 0 1
Advanced Mega Devices
A lone calendar was hanging on the wall. "July 7 - 2019", it read, within the dim warehouse's lights.
It was the storehouse for a few unfinished projects of AMD. Precisely, there were two robots.
With the growing popularity of the two Ryzen mascots, Ryfa and Zenka, a few managers have thought it'd be a great idea to demonstrate the superior excellence of the Ryzen 9 3900X by creating two artificial-intelligence equipped androids, capable and happy to assist people visiting the headquarters and possibly, at night, alert security about any intruders.
However, they weren't ready by the date of the launch of the 3rd generation. Today was not the day.
Although the AI could easily form coherent thoughts, communicate and use it's various modules, it was simply... somewhat too radical.
For example, as it truly'd be unwise to support the competition, the bots have been programmed to deter people from using Intel products, but they weren't up to the task.
Because of some bug, the sole mention of
:icongiantessstorytime:GiantessStoryTime 2 0