Sci Fi
A Sea of Stars
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Jay pressed a hand to the tiny, porthole-style window of the LS Yvette, framed by silver, titanium-alloy walls and tucked behind the piles of boxes in the cargo module. It was colder than ice. All she could see was the inky blackness of space, stretching out as far as the eye could see, and further. Even though she knew that there was nothing around for thousands of kilometres, she let herself think that she was seeing a bright pinprick of light in the distance. A star, she imagined. Some place outside of the galaxy she’d grown up in. Hope.
By Bella Pearce2 years ago in Fiction
White Trash Willy In A Strange Land
Willy pumped the brakes too quickly on his cherried-out 1979 F100 pickup with a hydraulic suspension system on rims from a newer Chevy Nova. The problem is it needed a part they don’t make anymore and so the 1979 front disk brakes were about to fail completely and the rear drums had to work twice as hard. Sometimes the rear wheels would lock up and skid mid way through the second brake-pump and sometimes it took 5. Good ol’ Willy never knew many pumps it would take. It was a rough ride.
By James Donahue2 years ago in Fiction
The Asteroid Mammy
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. On the asteroid Mammy, there was no need for a single shout. The dome that covered the city of the asteroid was owned by Wilmington, Delaware native Garland Moore. His business had launched rockets to get to the asteroid, another business built the infrastructure, and yet another business kept the cities and fields working. Moore never wore a tie but always wore a sharp business suit. He walked out of his office and in the glory of his precision footwork, welcomed a new day to begin. His skin looked like almonds and waves flowed into his hairline.
By Skyler Saunders2 years ago in Fiction
Black Dawn
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Then why as my emergency pod tumbled wildly through the empty dark expanse, did I hear a scream that woke me out of a sound sleep and made every hair on my body stand up. My heart was beating wildly in my chest. It wasn’t really a scream. It was more like a high-pitched shriek of a predator spotting its prey. I peered desperately into the inky darkness, but all I saw was an endless ocean of stars. I took some deep breathes and reassured myself.
By Mary Grace Klukosky Leon2 years ago in Fiction
Voranitus
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. The Commonwealths tell that to all the new Venture recruits, whether they be the average Neoterics, or specialized Catalysts like myself. And well, that’s a cautionary warning for sure, but I've learned something a bit more teaching in practice. In the infinite vacuum of the cosmos, when it’s just you and your suit, only you can hear yourself scream…if you’re lucky that is. See, it’s the loneliness that can really kill you…saping the hope right out of you. Like, everyone knows that sound doesn't travel out there, but you can still send out a signal for help, right? And, well...you can scream at the top of your lungs all you want, but there's no guarantee that anyone can hear you outside of your suit. That suit could be literal, such as the advanced Walking Gear we wear, 'walkers' as we call them, or more metaphorical like your ship, or the damn planet you're marooned on. Regardless of the circumstances, there’s also less of a guarantee that when you send out a message, it'll even be received in time to save you. Like this, here? I've been on this planet for about a week now…I think, and I have no idea what’s going on out there.
By Christian Jose De La Vega Regalado2 years ago in Fiction
They Called Me Angel
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Whoever said that obviously wasn’t a telepath, and certainly wasn’t an Ansible-Neurologically-Linked Commanding Officer in the Terran Marines. Whether in space or in atmosphere, it doesn’t matter. The boys scream when they die, and I hear them.
By Colin O'Neal Sammons2 years ago in Fiction