Sci Fi
Artificial
The flight from the Rigo-12 colony was less than phenomenal. It was horrible. The G-force produced by high-speed space flight left the passengers feeling sick. But, all of them were used to this. Flying under crappy conditions between Earth and the colonies was the norm for smugglers and dealers. Morrow simply needed to take a pill and execute a certain algorithm in his Neuroware to shake off the jetlag. Once that combination of drugs and software kicked in, he was good to go. His self-driving van was being controlled by a VA that notified him of its arrival. Morrow had already checked out of customs and picked up the goods he was importing. This airport was privately owned by the Sanchez Group. They were a group of companies that was largely funded by black market assets and activities. That said, this private airport was a hub for the importing and exporting of illegal goods. That included cybernetic implants(like Morrow's Neuroware), farmed organs, bioengineered pets, and any perversion of life you could think of or any mods that would help people survive on less. The Sanchez Airport of Manhattan is a multi-leveled facility that seems legit on the surface.
By Franklin Sami5 years ago in Fiction
Heart of Gold Turned Heart of Cold
“ With great power comes great responsibility.” . This used to be a phrase of some kind, long ago. A phrase about power being used to help others, and do what’s right. Not many can remember that phrase, but I do. Truly, it was not long ago that this phrase was used by what was called mainstream media. But, that’s not what this world is. In this world, power does not come with responsibility. In this world, power is the only thing that matters.
By Jessica Sveen5 years ago in Fiction
Those Who Are Chosen
The smell of antiseptic was piercing through the cloud of sweat and filth that filled the large room. Soldiers lay dying on cots as medical personnel in various states of soiled white garb moved through the Triage. In the old world, the process was different. In the better days, those who were the least injured were at the back of the line for treatment. As the old doctor from a freshly dead world watched the new regime's lapdogs move to the favored her stomach turned. Men with little more than sprains and cuts were receiving the attention of qualified doctors while struggling aides tried to keep severely wounded men alive.
By Ian Kelley5 years ago in Fiction
Jagged Glass
Tristan’s skin remains dry as the burst of machine-gun fire and explosions approach. The ground shudders. Then a volley of gunfire sounds farther off. Now they’re receding, tapering into the distance, until the sound couldn’t ripple a puddle of rainwater.
By CM Scheuerman5 years ago in Fiction
Left Behind With a Mustard Seed
She never wore a cross. Instead, Faith wore a golden heart-shaped locket, with a single mustard seed inside. It was a gift from her grandmother, who always loved the parable of the mustard seed. When her grandmother died, Faith had carefully opened the locket and added a tiny, curled up lock of her grandmother's hair.
By Jeanette Watts 5 years ago in Fiction
Star House
“It doesn’t exist, kid,” yelled Hawk, “Now activate your cocoon!” Comet touched the forearm-panel of her mega-suit. The dark face shield sealed her from the world. The last thing she saw would haunt her for the rest of her life, Lorin punching her panel frantically.
By John Dzurko5 years ago in Fiction
Trinket
The Market was often described as cruel, but really it was unfeeling. Every day Eva logged on to the app with her phone to check the AM opportunities. One could choose either online or live; Eva preferred the former because she had a hard time being social, but the morning was always rife with live shifts. She selected delivery and the timer started counting down. She had fourteen minutes to get to the truck before her shift would go to someone else and she would earn a strike.
By Dylan James Harper5 years ago in Fiction
The Road Home
The year is 2041, My name is Ronyn. The bombs fell late May of 2022. Almost nothing survived, what had the strength and will to survive slowly either started to go insane from the biochemical weapons that consumed the world, or perished in the raging storms that followed afterward.
By Martyn Lyons5 years ago in Fiction
the Care Giver
The woman enters the office and sits down across from Dr. Eldinor, the Care Giver. Dr. Eldinor is wearing a black dress that stands sharp against the white chair, the white walls, and the white examination table, in the same way that her hair, pulled back tightly, sharpens her flawless features.
By Valerie Ngai5 years ago in Fiction
Ground Zero
The year is 2019, June 21st in Des Moines, IA. An African American man, ~25 years of age, is standing front row in a dark hole-in-the-wall bar in awe of a cover band singing The Beatles. The hanging lights are awkwardly spaced from each other with a bar sitting to the left side with a broken neon sign placed in the center. Each member of the band is smiling exuberantly wearing this fancy, gold plated, mechanical heart implants in the front of their chests glowing a bright, red light.
By Joe Swilley5 years ago in Fiction
