The Misfits
They call us the Misfits. They don’t give us battle armor. Just what we can collect from the bodies of fallen friends and foes.
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Redeeming the Time
“There’s another one, boss.”
I peered at my monitor screen. Sure enough, the telltale shooting star effect had almost gotten past me. We angels are not incapable of error, unfortunately. Gripping the controls with renewed enthusiasm, I cornered and contained the time bubble. When I heard the satisfying click of the “Save” button, I sighed. “Almost missed that one.”
One Being’s Trash
“What did you just do?”
El’s thought pinged into Jay’s brain, and he willed his thinking to be casual. “Nothing.”
“I thought we just came out for a flight. But you vented something.”
Jay lifted his hand from the control panel and waved it innocently. “Nothing really.”
World Redone
Tamara stood on tiptoe and flipped the switch on the flickering Open sign, officially closing Reused Realities to the public. When it came to repairing and refurbishing virtual reality systems, Tamara needed interruptions at a minimum. Besides, switching between the real world and the virtual almost always jeopardized her productivity.
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Part of Me
“Do you remember your name?” A woman’s voice echoes in my mind.
My eyes open. Fluorescent lights stare back at me from the ceiling as my surroundings begin to register. I am lying on a steel gurney, wearing a dingy set of medical scrubs.
“Nelson. Nelson Duran.” I cock my head at the sound of my own voice. Is that right?
Tell the Wolves I’m Home
I was surrounded. There, atop the ruins of what was once a great symbol of power, I lifted my hands in surrender.
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Only Human
I have started to turn.
The others haven’t noticed. The rot, the size of a cigar burn, is on my right wrist. I’m wearing short sleeves, so I can’t hide it. I keep my arm turned over and favor my left, flipping switches, preparing for take-off. It won’t do to have a pilot who’s infected.
Life Cycle 63
Death didn’t chase him. It surrounded him. It was just dormant for the next twenty minutes.
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The Barnstormer
It wasn’t anything like TV. The engines fired, flames brighter than the sun, the sound beating at Sue’s chest. Then the launch, starting ever-so-slowly, the winged capsule atop the slender booster reaching for the sky. Sue bent backwards, shading her eyes to watch it roaring upward. She found herself whispering, “Go, baby!”
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Something New
Everything looks huge today. Either I’m shrinking or the world’s getting bigger. I crawl down the porch steps one at a time. When did my hands become so fat and bunchy? Well, my daughter, Leisl, says I’d forget my head if it wasn’t welded on. That’s why we need the Memory Enhancer 3000.
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Déjà Vu
Ron tried to lift his hand, but he could not command his body; fear gripped him, and his mind screamed at him to flee, but helplessness consumed him…
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A Symphony of Words
The location of the Sol system, Earth’s system, in the cosmos. How far away it appeared. Sol itself seemed part of a grouping—a constellation from Proxima’s perspective. 917 named the pattern “The Phoenix,” for it looked almost like a bird ablaze. A new designation to go with 917’s new purpose.
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