Sci Fi
Killing for Google With a Song in My Heart
The first thing that they ask you is what video games you play. It’s not about skill or anything of the sort; it’s a matter of personal preference. Let’s be honest: if you’re piloting an APOU; they aren’t going to be able to do much to stop you from killing them. Yeah, I heard about the incident in Stockton, but that was isolated, they caught the people, and that level of sophistication in explosives is incredibly rare.
By Emile Bienert5 years ago in Fiction
Harvard Smith and the Sleep Machine
Harvard Smith only half remembered what the embrace of a human being felt like. It was a distant memory, the glow of a fire across the tundra at night, with no way of approximating its distance. He was certain he had once had two parents but only remembered the man. Sometimes he thought all the old films he spent all day with had merely seeded those archetypes of the nuclear family in his head, though he wasn’t sure.
By Donald Tiver5 years ago in Fiction
The Writing on the wall
Tuesday, August 1, 2069 Three years of trudging away and not asking questions, all for my name to be lost in an everlasting daydream. I was all alone, always by myself; a girl who lived in dreams. My ambition is to get enough money to turn myself into somebody and I've been a nobody my entire life. I wonder what I want most? Do I just want a friend or do I want enough money so that having people in my life doesn't matter?
By Kamran Young5 years ago in Fiction
Sub-light Fries
Smoke geysers, ash clouds, and the smell of burning fat. I stood under moonlight as the flakes of grease stuck to my skin. I blinked twice. Every time it became harder to see, my eyelashes thick with soot, irritating me to tears. My sight returned and in front of me stood a young woman with alabaster skin, her hands held tightly in mine. I rose my eyes to meet hers, consciously memorizing every detail of this stranger. She had rolled up sleeves, part of a brown wool sweater. A warmth washed over me. I couldn’t shake this sudden feeling of familiarity. The woman gave me a smile that in an instant, transformed into a frown and she shouted in a deep voice, “HEY STARGAZER! ORDER UP!”
By Derrick L.5 years ago in Fiction
The Old Mans Message
Playing the message tone, I paused and looked at my phone. The old man had sent a massive message with an attachment of pictures. I just did not have time to look at them right now. I continued to work on the planning. The instructions on how to make the power supply for the Greased Lightning had failed a government inspection. The production of the hypersonic drone was the company’s bread and butter contract. We made one a week, and the government experimented on them at White Sands, New Mexico. The assemblers were doing things, not in the instructions. It had taken all day to collect the notes from the assemblers, and now I had to put them in the planning. When I finished, it was 9:25 pm. I logged out of the computer, locked the area up, and went home.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Fiction
Memory
The login indicator for his game was boring. He was running seven other processes while he waited for the server handshake protocol to finish, including finishing up a movie from before The Fall. The latest upgrades to the network meant he had nearly limitless memory access. As the startup sequence for the game began, he actualized one of his current favorite avatars. He stepped into the game's lobby a seven-foot tall, neon green version of himself - or at least as near to himself as he could remember. It had been so long since he checked, so long since he’d even thought of checking. Mirrors obviously were not an option anymore. But green was cool right now, or it was trending in the last several minutes at least. That was all anyone would really notice.
By Colin Withrow5 years ago in Fiction
The Lonely Heart Club
Leith Mitchell, was simply a regular, boring dude. At least that’s how he saw himself. Boring brown eyes, lifeless brown hair and no hopes of being anything more. Like most 30 something year old guys his age, he thought he would have accomplished more in his life by now. It’s hard to be “that guy” when you’re alone. You ever wonder what it’s like to be alone, not like for a few days, but forever? So alone that you’ve forgotten the smells that find your nose when walking past a bakery first thing in the morning. Or the sound of some determined businessman yelling at his phone as he switches back and forth between rideshare apps waiting for a black sedan with a methed out college kid to appear to take him to the office.
By Tamara Warzecha 5 years ago in Fiction
