Gregory Martin rode into town mumbling, “Killed. Killed us all.”
He stumbled from his horse, staggered toward the frontier clinic, and collapsed. Within the hour, he was dead.
Roland Chadwick, Deputy U.S. Marshal, dispersed an inquisitive crowd and joined Dr. Vernon Mortimer inside his humble hospital.
The physician locked the door and shook
The wolf pack was hunting again. I could sense it in how their ears perked, the subtle way they started to fan out and slink off, taking up their positions perfectly without any audible communication.
Scanning the city streets far below me through my scope, I searched for their prey.
“What makes it work?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.
“We don’t really know,” Dr. Tine shrugged. “Some energy source that we haven’t been able to figure out. Our scientists who worked in the lab with the last one ended up getting sick, and some of them died within months. Nasty stuff.
The knock at her workshop door startled the vaether out of Eulalia Clune. She flailed, her arms nearly sending the nebulum condensers on her crafting table crashing into the plasma generator.
If she had her way, whoever invented knocking would be vaporized in the galaxy’s largest imperial starsteam engine and served with starberry tea
Am I content to float alone?
In this vast universe, I’ve only known one other of my kind—my mother—and I only knew her for mere minutes before she vanished without a trace. I searched the entire perimeter of this water-based planet for her to no avail. Did she leave because her
I could feel the kitten’s heartbeat.
That shouldn’t have been possible.
Opening his mouth, the kitten let out a tiny meow, showing off his small pink tongue. I hugged him to my chest and glanced around the alley. We were still alone, unnoticed.
I’d stepped into the alley to adjust my glitching earpiece.
The cold, moonless night found a solitary willow-warbler perched on a rocky outcrop of the mountain, gazing up at the vast silver shape that hung in the sky.
What a strange looking creature, sang the bird, I wonder what it wants.
Despite the engineers’ best efforts, time drones have a loud buzz. So when Hanover’s time drone popped in early one sunny Cretaceous morning, it was noticed immediately.
Not by the dinosaurs the drone’s owners sought, who were not in the area, nor the flies swarming a chunk of rotting fruit on a tree branch
Cyrus Montez knelt by the large print in the mud and surveyed the surrounding jungle. “We’re close.”
The native guide, hoisting a spear and, wearing nothing but a loin cloth, nodded and waved his arm, motioning for Montez to follow.
“The Phoberomys?” Julie Szubanski shouldered her pack and prepared her DSLR camera.
Lykaina slid the box across the desk with a gentle smile. “A gift from the marshes of Hecate.”
Mr. Collins opened the lid and inhaled deeply. His eyes drifted closed. “Fresh cranberries. Marvelous.”
“Perhaps not the bounty one would receive from Demeter…” Lyka spread her hands. “But we share what is ours.”
The ball of light splits the forest in two, bouncing heat and ash off the canopy all the way down into the damp undergrowth. Where bits of debris alight on a rare dry patch, the underlying fungal layer, with sodden indifference, snuffs them out in a puff of smoke. A wide flat piece,
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Adam observed the flock of pigeons. The whole time he’d been sitting on the rusted park bench, seeds disappeared around only one. The real pigeon ate the seeds he threw at it; the drones just pecked at the ground.
A few drone birds took flight. Adam glanced at his watch. Right on schedule.
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