A grandmother prepares her last gift to her grandson, who is about to take off for distant planets and stars.

A Little Piece of Home

Her hand trembled a little as she reached for the flour jar.  She told herself to stop being stupid, there was a loaf to be made and very little time in which to make it.  She tipped the flour into the bowl and added the fat; her wrinkled fingers began the process of rubbing it in.  If Gary were to walk in now, she thought, he’d say, as he always did: “You need a mixer, Gran, one with a dough hook. It’ll do all that hard work for you.  Go on, let me bring you Mother’s.”  But she’d always made her bread this way and she always told him she was too told to change her ways.

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She was beautiful, she had a spaceship in her purse, and she brought a new perspective to love.  She thought it important to count your toes.  Of course he fell in love with her.

Alien Love

She was just suddenly there, and it was very strange, but immediately she gave me the feeling she had always been there, that I had always been vaguely aware of her there.  I suspected this was not so.

She was shaking her arms, looking at them, and at her feet, taking little steps, one at a time.  When she saw me staring she smiled and said “They’re so percussive.”

I smiled back and would have walked past her then, but she kept smiling at me and obviously she wanted my attention.  Good, I thought.

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An empty school, a lonely teacher and a small boy who is looking for something to do until his telescreen is fixed -between them the two light up an empty summer with mutual companionship.

All Down the Lonely Years

It was a scorching hot day. Charles Grey walked slowly toward the school, his arms swinging loosely in the disjointed shambling walk the old sometimes assume.  The sun silvered the tick tight curls clustered around the bald patch, a halo of unconventional colour.  The pavements were hot; his old shoes were no protection against bubbling tar.  Already his tie was confining his throat and pulling the collar into his neck.

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Dave the ‘Gadget Lover’ gets much more than he bargained for when he buys the very latest irresistible piece of technology.

Body Hugger

Whenever and wherever the sales pitch was heard, Dave the Gadget Lover took it personally.  If they said it was all the rage and a real must have, then Dave had to have it. He was always a sucker for a new gadget, a new toy with which to amuse himself.  With a high paying, low stress job in the public service and only himself to feed, Dave had more than enough disposable income to accumulate the latest and greatest scientific novelties and technological marvels.  He had a wonderful time with his collection of innovative time-wasters.

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An ageing spaceman docks at a far flung port and finds the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. They spend his entire leave together, with him falling in love, with just the question mark hanging over him, why she refuses to go out in the rain. Eventually she tells him why…

Butterfly

It was raining when we left the ship.  Yandra didn’t look very different from any other planet we’d docked at in the last few years.  Or at least the spaceport didn’t.  Dirty rundown shabby buildings staffed by disinterested attendants.  Luggage and pass checks were so casual I doubt they remembered which ship we were from, let alone our names, five minutes after we passed through.

Another place, another bar.  Lead me to it, boys!

You know the scene.  It repeats itself in every space port across the universe every time a ship docks.

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Every event stems from different causes and brings about different consequences. But when causality changes the entire human species, there may be aliens involved.

Causality

Boris Petrov, an intelligent, fit man of around fifty, hair and brows already graying, no pains in his joints and a prostate still normal in size, ambled towards his home. His robust body seemed to swim above the solitary sidewalk, irregularly lit up by the white light of street lamps. Snowflakes swirled here and there. The vodka and the enjoyable company at the local bar had taken him away from his drab existence, and the moderate dose of alcohol facilitated the flight of his thoughts toward wise, philosophical insights.

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Artie Frankinson thinks he has it made when he builds a time machine and travels back in time to win at horse racing, but he doesn’t realize the presence of his former self, and later former selves, will become such a problem.

Chuckles for Speed

Artie Frankinson smiled from his couch as Chuckles for Speed rounded the final turn and stretched its lead to 5 and a half lengths. When the thirty-to-one longshot crossed the finish line, Artie lifted his arms and squealed. After this short victory celebration he wrote down the order of finishers along with a lot of dollar signs.

He hadn’t placed a bet on the race, at least not yet. A small black box covered with knobs and dials sat next to Artie, two long tubes jutting out into a small helmet. Artie placed the helmet on his head, fiddled with the dials, and disappeared.

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When Michael ducks inside a shop doorway, to shelter from a sudden downpour of rain, he doesn’t realise he is about to embark on a brief, but revealing adventure. The woman he literally bumps into looks familiar; there’s something about her eyes that holds his attention.

Discovering Marilyn

Michael winced as fat splashes of water rained down on him. He ducked into the nearest shop doorway and bumped into a woman already sheltering there. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘another typical English summer, isn’t it?’

‘I know. I’m so annoyed.’

Michael ruffled his hair and shivered, even though it was in the middle of August. The woman’s eyes held his attention. ‘Do we know each other?’ he asked. ‘You remind me of someone.’

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An absurd coincidence drives a young man to look for the truth about his deceased father – and find out the price of fatherly love.

Father

I am walking, and I cannot hear my steps. Their tapping is drowned in the lashing rain and the deafening roar of thunder. I have no steps… The cool drops run down my cheeks and my temples, soak through my clothes and lap the bouquet of white narcissi. I can’t help remembering Murphy’s laws–it never rains but it pours. Damn it, I didn’t even take an umbrella! Yet, what does an umbrella have to do with all that?

IX sector, fifth row–there’s the small copper plaque “Sean Simon (2053-2081)”.

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Confronted with painful treatments and probable death, Dan Sturges takes control of his own destiny and builds a time machine. Hoping a cure has been developed in the future he presses the button only to find a world more shocking than the eighteen car batteries he connected himself to.

Greener Grass

Holding his breath, Dan Sturges depressed the red button of his time machine. The jolt was instantaneous, and he nearly lost his grip on the flag-wrapped bible in his lap. Together they comprised the only two things he couldn’t live without. His body lurched but the nylon belts of the leather seat held him tight—both transplants from his 2010 Porsche 911. It felt like he’d hooked up the car batteries directly to his nuts. He may have screamed but couldn’t be sure, his mind preoccupied, processing too much data. A whine ratcheted up to a shriek, an audible indication of his brain overloading as it chugged an ocean of information before vomiting. Everything went white.

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After the end of the world, few people are left and few items remain from Before. The Television is one of them. It is worshipped as an oracle by the tribe, but one boy sees past this and longs to change the way they all think.

In the Beginning

‘In the beginning was the mushroom cloud, many trees tall into the sky and from the cloud came fine dust.  It burned the ground and tore the skin from the bones of those who ran.’

IT stood in the centre of the square in its own hut, the wooden casing marked with rain, the flimsy back which housed the electronics slowly dissolving, colourful wires falling out.

‘There were some people who ran to burrow in the ground like the rabbit in his hole, there to live until the dust should cease to fall.’

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Sometimes finding out who you are means discovering what you’re not.  A young girl discovers that her missing father was an alien and what it means to be treated as less than human.

Not Human

Any hope of victory died in a blinding flash of light.  Tears filled my assaulted eyes. Blinking, I fought to clear my vision.  The damage was bad and got worse.  Two star-fighters were taken out as I watched helplessly.  They flickered brightly then disintegrated into a shimmering mist in my view screen.  Our forces, already outnumbered and outgunned, were doomed.  Biting my lip, I maneuvered the remaining ships within striking distance of my target, the command ship of the Renngor fleet.  A suicide run was my only chance to salvage the mission and ward off a massive invasion of Earth by enemy forces.  Without mercy, the light flashed again and I took a direct hit.  Fighting for control, I launched all remaining long-range weapons as I went down.  It wasn’t enough.

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The government will listen. A ruthless terrorist cell shows no mercy and the government is forced to look for alternative solutions. This futuristic method will lead to a sting in the tale.

Pest Control

I can’t believe the British are so unprepared.

‘On your feet.’

A confused young girl stares at me.

‘You, get up.’

My unsmiling comrade drags her to her feet.

‘Come on.’

Her colleagues examine the carpet.

‘Hello, Jackie,’ I say whilst inspecting her name badge.

‘What do you want with me?’

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A man suspected of being inhabited by a hostile alien race must undergo an infallible (so far) test to determine if he is human.

Pop Quiz

Willie sat in the small room behind the small table. He jumped just a hair when the door opened.  A man in the wrinkled suit and tie carried a large sheet of laminated text.

“Good evening, sir. I am sub-ambassador Darren Dolen, Municipal-class authority. I understand you have been arrested on suspicion of Stypean conspiracy, a war crime even in a time of cease-fire. If you are inhabited, I remind you that certain alien words cannot be pronounced by human tongues, and ask that your occupants please take no offense at our official approximate pronunciation. I am compelled by treaty to read you the following:

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Ted has a soul. In fact, he has a whole collection of them! And he has come to the deep space mining bar looking to make a bargain. But it’s never that easy when you deal with the devil!

Ted’s Souls

The warm smell of lightly cooked flesh wafted through the air as the radium miners tramped into the bar at the end of the their shift. Soon the friendly banter of death threats and the soothing sound of broken glass filled the already heavy atmosphere as the end-of-shift crowd set about converting hard-earned credit into hangovers.

There are asteroid bars that welcome tourists. Flange’s Certain Death, for example, does a roaring trade in extreme sports enthusiasts, who backpack and hitchhike across the galaxy to drink, swap stories and head lice in a relatively friendly atmosphere. Safe pubs.

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A man’s plan to end his grandmother’s suffering becomes complicated when she hatches her own plan.

The Fifth Law

“Oh, poor Izzy. You should not be running like that.” Nana coughed. “You look more short of breath than me.”

“And you’ve never looked so sick.” Izrael examined Nana’s lips and fingertips. They had turned whiter than her milky skin. Her wrist pulse oximeter started beeping, telling him that her blood was crying for oxygen. He glanced at the control pad attached to the wheelchair. “Oxygen’s nearly gone.” Wires linked the panel to the oxygen tank strapped behind her wheelchair. A tube slithered from the tank before tapering into a nasal cannula. The panel’s tiny red bulb was blinking. “This will take a minute.”

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‘The Infiltrators’ Nebulous beings seek to influence the world and find themselves frustrated at certain junctures. They need to know how and who.

The Infiltrators

Man was evolved. Gone were the slow-thinking bestial hominids which painted caves with such eloquence, yet lingered still with crude stone tools. Nature had, through some undetectable cross-breeding, produced the forerunner of modern man.

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Can Jonathan Noonan’s small act of rebellion help Mai and her nomadic community in their struggle to survive on the barren sand flats of an abandoned Earth one hundred and fifty years later?  In a future fraught with uncertainty who will turn out to be the lucky ones?

The Lucky Ones

July 9^th 2098

Chaos had broken out across the Village andthe departure timetable that Jonathon Noonan’s parents had been diligently working towards had been abandoned. Without exception all residents were being urged to leave immediately.Jonathon was trying his utmost to follow his mother’s lead and remain calm.

“The gates will hold,” she assured him, as they hurried across the rooftop. “The majority of the security operatives remain loyal. They’ll see to it that nothing untoward happens to us.”

Jonathon wasn’t convinced. Approaching the waiting gyrocopter he could feel the adrenalin rushing through his veins. There was a terrible nervous cramp in his stomach and it seemed that he couldn’t quite draw enough air into his lungs.

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As you read the story, glance at the sky now and then. Is it changing colour? The most terrible beast may visit our Solar System too.

The Most Terrible Beast

It was a regular bar room, one of those found near null terminals or spaceports in any point of the intelligent universe. Nickeled holders for consuming various gas mixtures occupied the bar, their sterilized inhaling mouthpieces sticking out from the consumption sockets. Any patron of the place would be thoroughly familiar with the selection of cocktails; nevertheless, their numbers were engraved in a dozen galactic languages. Four members of humankind sat on the comfortable stools in front of the bar. Three of them already knew one another, and the fourth one had just joined their company. They had been drawn together by their common need to kill some spare time between flights.

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If advanced extraterrestrials did visit us today, what would they think about our accomplishments as a species? Would they be impressed at our ability to live together and take care of the earth or just the opposite?

The Vacation

I had heard stories about the planet earth as long as I could remember. My father had visited twice when he was a boy and a teenager. He had fond memories of the third planet in that solar system. His tales used to entertain us for hours when we were little. That’s why it’s so exciting to be warping through the worm hole toward earth with my own family in tow. I sure missed my Mom and Dad but they had a long, happy life. I mean, one hundred and twenty-three thousand years is a long life span where I come from. Especially now that they finally found a cure for the black hole plague.

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Imagine the havoc two juvenile delinquents could wreak if they got their hands on a time machine!

Time Crime

May, 2039.

Virginia Evans, sheriff of a rural Kansas county, settled into her office chair, took the day’s first sip of coffee, and made a face. She was trying to decide what to do first when a knock on her open door interrupted. She looked up. “Oh, Jim. Come on in.”

Deputy Jim Dugan, young, eager and smart, seldom bothered her with commonplace problems. He sat on the straight chair beside her cluttered desk and balanced a thick file folder on his knee. “I’ve come across something unusual you might like to know about.”

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Virtually Everything follows Damien as he crushes his contacts, the only means of interacting with the modern society. He seeks to escape to become unreachable by the marketing machine. A provoking tale for the future of digitalisation, and how the online world may shape our lives.

Virtually Everything

Damien crushed his contact lenses under his sloppy brogues, grinding them into the concrete for good measure. He laughed out loud. He couldn’t wait to put it all behind him, the fake plastic cars, the false landscape projected on to concrete walls, the promise of a better future if he just downloaded an app for convenience.

Co-workers barged past him in the usual working day bedlam.  His best mate could be in the same square and he wouldn’t know it. People were just people. They lacked their avatars and the helpful little icons now. He hadn’t a clue what their mood would be any more than their destination.

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