“Listen to what the moles say and you should be fine.” Dieter nodded his head and tried to look like he was paying attention. He was, with that part of his brain that also listened to his wife and stored the information away in case he was put on the spot. Mostly, though, he was looking out the window as the pod descended down the space elevator to the planet’s surface. He hadn’t had time to study the complete histories – just skimmed them on his way to the station. Now, he wished he had read more. He couldn’t remember

FIRST CONSTRUCTIVE “We, as the negative team in this debate, propose that you exterminate the human race. The chief flaw in the affirmative team’s policy proposal lies not in the mechanics of how it protects people, but in the assumption that people should be protected. In your notes, judges, please label our overall argument: Wipeout. It is an overarching strategy with several interlocking components. Amit and I believe that you will find that the pieces fit.” # The debate final is underway, the arguments unraveling under flickering fluorescent lights, and Connor’s shirt sleeve is unraveling with them. His clothing is

The moon traveled in front of the sun and millions stopped, watched and hoped their filtered glasses were legit and not a part of some diabolical plan to blind the entire nation. Nick Kane didn’t care. He missed the whole waxing and waning eclipse. He needed money, needed it bad, so bad that he took a job that sent him inside the hyperloop for three and a half hours. Gone were the days when he could make a quick ten grand in the mixed bionic ring. The hyperloop traveled from Old Vegas to New Shanghai. Kane had one eye on

The English Dead by Vaughan Stanger The body lay on the North Face of Mount Everest for fifty-one years, its exact location known only to the alpine choughs that pecked at its flesh. Other climbers who attempted the same route were too preoccupied with the hazards of high-altitude mountaineering to conduct a search for their illustrious predecessor. Then, in the spring of 1975, a Chinese climber stumbled upon the corpse while returning to camp. Wang Hong-bao realised the significance of the dead man’s hobnail boots. Only pre-war mountaineers had climbed that high on Everest wearing such primitive gear. On Wang’s

Anthony rested his head on his forearms for just a moment – the all-nighters were taking their toll. His long hair covered the laptop, next to the heavy neuroscience journals. Some printouts fell from the desk. The sheets landed on Roshko. “Wuf!” he complained. Anthony did not move a muscle; his obsession had drained all energy out of him. All he thought of, apart from Andrea, was the prototype. Unsupervised, Roshko decided to have some fun. Like an alligator about to sneak up on his prey, the big Golden Retriever crawled under the desk. He sunk his head in the

         He stretched out his arms to embrace me          But he was no longer strong, he hadn’t          The force he once had ….                                The Odyssey, 392-4:          Odysseus’ lament for Agamemnon when in Hades     # Peter Sands heard the wretched braying again. He wasn’t able to tell where it was coming from because of the mist which had started settling in about a quarter of an hour ago – together with the strange mournful braying. He knew the mountain hut he was searching for was just on the other side of the crest he had seen in

My given name is Isaac Jameson, but most people know me as the Lifewalker. It is a fitting title. In a world where few men live to the age of twenty five, I wander the Earth alone, watching each generation spring up as wheat, bear seed, and pass away with the autumn frost. Yet with each new crop of humanity, death refuses to harvest me – a stranger in his own homeland, a man washed up on the shores of time while the world spins wildly beneath him. There are some who would view these many long years of life

I am a particle physicist who works at CERN, for the European Council for Nuclear Research, located on the Swiss-French border. Multiple research teams from around the world work within the massive underground facility, each participating in different projects in order to better understand atomic sub-structure, dark matter, supersymmetry, and the make-up of time and space, all by smashing particles together at near-light speeds. My team is relatively small, just a handful of us, but we make up merely a fraction of a one-hundred-strong community of incredibly talented scientists who work and operate at this world-renowned nuclear research facility. Due

People once said forty days and nights of rain was enough to flood the whole world, and today this makes us smile, because it’s been raining for forty years. In the equipment bay I feed myself into a survival suit with the practice of many years. Brilliant orange, with breathing gear, flotation system, radio locator beacon, light. The name Lytton, K is stenciled at the breast – my suit, made for me, Kira Lytton, in the workshops below. The suit will keep me alive for 24 hours if I’m ever unlucky enough to be separated from this metal island on

Daniel woke up with a note pinned to his pillow. His first thought was that his home had been invaded. Like most nights, he’d slept alone. He pulled on pajama bottoms and grabbed the baseball bat he kept by the bed. He searched his one bedroom efficiency apartment in seconds. The bathroom was empty, the two closets unoccupied, and the refrigerator held only leftover pizza and milk with a questionable date. The door was triple locked from the inside, deadbolt in place, chain engaged, and the hinge lock fastened. He put the bat back by his bed and unpinned the