Dr. Trevor Smythe-Barnette looked up as a gust of hot air burst into his tent, ushering in the inevitable barrage of sand particles, and his right-hand man, Karthick, with it. The building stress that threatened to crush the archeologist dissipated as he entered. Karthick had dug with Smythe-Barnette for several years and understood
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Moonlight glistened on the Bahamian waters surrounding South Beach. Waves lapped the shore and plantain tree shadows snaked across the sand. Pastor Shantel paced, anxiously scanning the horizon as immigration officials scrambled along the beach. A flash of blue and gold in the clouds caught her eye. Weird.
Shantel stumbled into…
Of all the places to be stuck during a layover, he’d been told Earth had to be the worst.
But Garxlix had once spent a Galactic Center year on the gas planet Murlkoqluq waiting for a connecting flight. This was just eighteen Earth hours.
Though he would have rather waited at the landing area
Shots glanced off a yellow-leafed tree as Tee darted through bushes taller than him. He screeched as another bullet almost grazed his large ear. Taurus’s tail, he thought ERT-82’s greens would provide camouflage, but the chlorophyl-deprived foliage left him exposed. “This is Ambassador Tee, calling dispatch. Come in, Caelum Base!”
Only static.
Kaits and his buddies scrambled to hide their holocards and gambling chips as Lieutenant Gilbert walked into the rec bay. Gaming for credits was strictly forbidden on the Galactic Defense Federation’s ships, and the last thing Kaits needed was to get chewed out by the lieutenant.
Again.
“Men, this is Private Johnny Wilson
I sit alone on the silent space station that was supposed to make me famous. Now, it’s hardly more than a dead shell. The bright overhead lights have been replaced by the red emergency lights behind me. The sun peers around the cursed planet below. I wonder if there are any eyes staring
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“Contestants moving to the final round of Galactic Best Bakers are…!”
The host, a green strellcat, paused dramatically.
Spotlights swirled then froze on the contestants, glaring right in Jareth’s eyes.
Jareth had watched every episode of the last three seasons of this, the most popular show in the civilized universe. Research was…
It smelled like apricot. Actually, more like an apricot that had been left on the counter for a month, and then shoved in the corner of the fruit drawer, where ethylene gas had rotted a month’s worth of produce.
Dr. Daniel Leslie stood in the science building at Blaylock University after receiving…
The rats are disappearing.
Hart Street had the biggest infestation in London. We knew that before we moved in—it’s why the house came at such a low price. But we needed somewhere to lay low, so I assured the Professor we could deal with it. I’ve dealt with worse.
Still, my skin still crawled
Holding up the emerald dress, I knew it wouldn’t fit. Still, I slipped it over my head. The fabric clung to my shoulders like plastic wrap.
Nope. I tugged the garment back off.
When I’d been fitted for the bridesmaid’s dress, I’d been bone-thin with knobby knees and elbows. Thankfully, that was no longer the case.
They come to me for the dreams—bubbles of florescent light that pop behind their eyelids and reveal an elsewhere. They don’t even care where they go. They just don’t want to be here.
I understand. With Earth a hair’s breadth away from total annihilation due to alien laser beams, I get the need…
Must. Have. Coffee.
I slog to the counter of Out of This World Café, a hundred pounds of textbooks working to dislocate my shoulders. A briefcase-wielding businessman carries his travel mug to a table near a green-skinned group of tourists from planet Gleesa.
“Bring me all the caffeine, Liz.” I give the gorgeous barista
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