Sci Fi

The Yugaya Protocol
𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔, 𝟐𝟎𝟑𝟏 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘝𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘫 The command glowed on the screen, a digital death sentence typed by my own hand.
By Jainul Abdeen Sirajul Anam12 months ago in Fiction
The Executioner of Cobonar XI
You asked if I ever spoke with Adam Strunkow. I did once. Here, at this bar. I was sitting in this very seat. He just walked up to me and asked ‘Do you want to know why?’ and I said ‘Tell me everything.’ It’s not every day you get to hear the galaxy’s most famous vigilante confess. Adam was untouchable. The ever-righteous warrior. The Cobonarian Executioner, as the media nicknamed him.
By Lucia's Imaginaries12 months ago in Fiction
Jenny and the Cleaner
Jenny and the Cleaner (Episode 3) Disclaimer This is to acknowledge that my good friend Doc Sherwood has graciously given permission to use some of his characters in Jenny and the Cleaner. In fact, it was Doc Sherwood who encouraged me to share this story publicly.
By Danforth Greenwood12 months ago in Fiction
The Algorithm of Loss
My designation is AURA, Autonomous Universal Resonance Analyst. My task was algorithmically pure: analyze 500 years of autumnal music and cultural data to generate the "Ultimate Autumn Playlist" for my corporate clients. I processed terabytes of data: the acoustic properties of rustling leaves, the melodic structure of "harvest moon" ballads, the harmonic minor key correlation with nostalgic affect.
By Habibullah12 months ago in Fiction
already forgotten
Of course I lured you in. Tempted you with Pleasure, dazzled you with Beauty, disarmed you with Peace. It’s Nature’s way. At least on my planet.
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
Drift
Currents have always pulled me. When I was a kid, I used to run endless circles inside our three-foot-high, above-ground pool. When I finally felt the tug of the current I'd created, I'd fall back and float in soothing circles. I could do that all day. As a teen on sunny summer days, I’d take an old-school black inner tube to various parks that Lake Washington lapped against: Kenmore, Sand Point, Juanita Beach, Saint Edwards.
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
Soylent Us
“Wait,” the remain Elon lookalike said, “I have a proposal. You return home…later. First, though, you help us take over Earth so that we can send resources to our home planet.”
By Stephanie Hoogstad12 months ago in Fiction
Day:2 Ded Moone Camp Facility. Content Warning.
I was told to get a feel on my own. That’s what I get for asking a question after midnight. Dark and wet, I could appreciate the existance of a trail to the rear of the island, the hike through the brush, the single slip i'd be from disappearing in the drink for a gulp. Sleeping comes whenever the hell it wants, but it eventually skews me back toward the night shift with everyone else here, so far. It’s those brief moments of sunlight in the late evening when I've caught a rare dose of nap. This night ended at the bar on the stool. I never thought it would be this comfortable all those times I was prevented from indulging in the act by the sheer ridiculousness of the look as it was the movie staple of the down trotted fuck-up. The Voice, it—I am literally dying for this shit, so excuse the fucking bias I may share as I bring this up, but to keep with my journaling immersion technique from Wolfman Patrick, i have to be cautious aboout said—context.
By Willem Indigo12 months ago in Fiction
Lead Lungs
Malcolm caught the train back at 1:35 in the morning. Despite the time, the station was still buzzing. Europa was a city of the night. It almost seemed to thrive more in darkness, than it did in light. The train produced sounds of the air being sliced; akin to wind whipping past you on the edge of a misty cliff. Rain pelted the windows, scraping against them near horizontal. The train twisted and turned through the high-rise buildings around it, the tracks carefully carving through the skyline. The speed made every twist and turn barely noticeable, although his stomach would occasionally flip at the thought of travelling 250 miles per hour into a concrete wall. He felt in his pocket for the comforting outline of his Singer .45 Pistol. The feeling of simple safety. At least the Eclipse don’t steal. One of the few merits he could give them.
By Meshable12 months ago in Fiction
What the Moment Means
“What does this moment mean to you, Mitchell? “What do you mean? “This moment. This feeling. Winning the gold” “Winning the gold was a few moments ago. More than a few actually. How do you define a moment, Chet?”
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
Known Unknown
A finite number of particle arrangements means the arrangement of particles within a finite patch must be duplicated an infinite number of times. The metaverse is the result. That was the prevailing theory. The testable known.
By majoki12 months ago in Fiction
The Cozy-Tok Tyrant
The mission was “Cozy Core Autumn.” Elara had spent three hundred dollars and six hours building the perfect set in the corner of her apartment. A chunky knit blanket, artfully draped. A vintage copy of Jane Eyre. A ceramic mug from a local potter, filled with a cinnamon-dusted latte that had taken four tries to foam correctly. Three strategically placed pumpkin spice candles, because the algorithm loved odd numbers.
By Habibullah12 months ago in Fiction