Mark Stigers
Bio
One year after my birth sputnik was launched, making me a space child. I did a hitch in the Navy as a electronics tech. I worked for Hughes Aircraft Company for quite a while. I currently live in the Saguaro forest in Tucson Arizona
Stories (369)
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The Design of a Dream
THE FIRST PROOF INT. ORBITAL MANUFACTURING FACILITY – TEST BAY Randy’s prototype miner sits in the center of the enormous prototyping bay, work lights reflecting off its new, gleaming hull. The twin thrusters shimmer faintly in the sterile glow of the overhead lamps.
By Mark Stigers 14 days ago in Chapters
The Snowball
THE ICE The snowball was not a proper asteroid. It was too loose, too ugly, too human. A drifting knot of frozen water and rock, thirty meters across, tumbling end over end like it had been kicked out of a god’s pocket. Dirty ice. Veined with carbon. Scored by micrometeor scars. A fortune if you knew what it was. Junk if you didn’t.
By Mark Stigers 17 days ago in Chapters
Lots of Steel and Gold.
THE RINGS They arrived on the Moon on a Tuesday, because Tuesdays were cheaper. The brochure called it low season, though the concourse at Shackleton Arc felt crowded enough—honeymooners in pressed suits, retirees floating their luggage behind them like obedient pets, a school group staring too long at the ceiling where the Earth hung, blue and indecently alive.
By Mark Stigers 21 days ago in Chapters
The Floating Casino
⸻ CHAPTER — THE FLOATING CASINO & OLD SMOKE’S EXPANSION THE CASINO ARRIVES Fog rolled off the Thames like a soft gray blanket. A narrow, black-hulled steamer slipped along the river, deck lights muted but deliberate. Its stacks breathed warmth into the night—coal smoke threaded with paraffin, polished brass, and the faint sweetness of expensive spirits.
By Mark Stigers 29 days ago in Chapters
Old Smoke (Twenty-Four)
CHAPTER — THE STEAM NODE & THE BOY THIEVES THE STEAM NODE — THE BOY THIEVES Beneath the tangle of Southwark’s rail viaducts, past the dripping brick arches and coal dust, there was a chamber the city had forgotten. A maintenance lock once meant for steam regulators had long since been abandoned, but the pipes that fed it still throbbed with warm pressure, carrying heat from the Borough boiler mains.
By Mark Stigers about a month ago in Chapters
