Sci Fi
MONKEY WRENCHES
A small shuttle bearing the royal seal of the Promethean Empire dropped out of the quantum tunnel created by the prism drive aboard. Sparks spewed from the console like an angry dragon at the small form frantically mashing the controls from the pilot seat of the rather nondescript cabin. Pockmarks scored with black marred the armor plating on the outside of the shuttle and a trail of condensed gas was being expelled into the vacuum of space. The shuttle, recently relieved from the crown prince of Promethea, had seen better days as it hopped and jumped through the vacuum like a drunk kid playing hopscotch. It certainly wouldn't be long before the drives melted.
By George Kelly4 years ago in Fiction
Dumplings (story by Vivian Leung )
My name is Commander Jane Lance and I was not on Mars. The night before my three-year flight to Mars, I went to a musical concert. There was a pianist, Nikola Eaves, who played Rachmaninoff and as he played he kept moving his mouth and body in synchronicity with the notes so that if you stared at him too long and listened to the music too closely you would be swept into a trance so consuming that you could be transported to anywhere you desired. After the concert, I drank four glasses of wine – the last wine I would taste for years. Eaves transported me to the sad moon base that mined aluminum, magnesium, titanium, and iron. I spent one year there in a small building working on technology for a Mars Initiative. I had been a Navy pilot before joining NASA. I had a Ph.D. in Biophysics and a Masters in Aerospace Engineering. I was considering medical school when NASA plucked me from MIT to work on the international project to Mars. It would be ten years before we would be flight-ready so they sent me to medical/surgery classes and in between, I worked on engineering. I was celebrated and applauded as being a woman who would command a flight to Mars. But it was not my gender that I was selected; it was my dedication to learning, talent, and commitment that earned me the title of Commander.
By Ankush Jarholiya4 years ago in Fiction
The Supers pt1
[Alarm sounds] Tasha: come on! I just feel asleep. A few more minutes won't hurt. Rebecca: finally, the sun is up. [She makes a cup of coffee and relaxes on the porch] It feels so nice out here. [Alex comes out with his skateboard in hand] Rebecca: don't you think it's too early for that. I'm pretty sure the neighbors aren't up yet. Alex: oh, I'll go to the park then.
By Savannah gravestone4 years ago in Fiction
Stupefaction
Stupefaction By: Cierra Bishop and Richard Reid Jr. Stupefaction, a word that is both unfamiliar, and very familiar to many. Yet, when we dissect the meaning of it, it can be argued on who or what it is applicable to. Does the term stupefaction refer to those who simply do not know and do not realize that they do not know? Or does it pertain to those who do not, and yet choose to continue on in the unknowing?
By Cierra Bishop4 years ago in Fiction
The Unconformity
In the Late Ordovician period, before continents rose and fell and rose and fell again, into the shape we know today, was a land we would not recognize as earth. What little life there was, was simple and sparse. What there was, however, was a couple small, fortunate parcels of land in this world, where conditions were just so, and life progressed rapidly and constantly. So constantly and rapidly that life, walking talking whining life, would develop millions of years before anywhere else. This glorious anomaly was not fated to last. It would wiped clean and swallowed whole, the grains of its existence washed away between layers of time turned to stone.
By Alexander Kovack4 years ago in Fiction
War Babies Pt. 2
Chapter 2 I was back on schedule the next day, up at six, breakfast, meds and wait for my tutor. I wasn’t allowed to go to regular school, so I was homeschooled. I didn’t miss school though, a popularity contest of idiots and bitches. I would have burned it into the ground with them in it if I had my way. Why should they get a life that they take for granted, when I struggle every day to stay on schedule. Walt came promptly at eight, like most mornings. I went through the motions and did my work. Deep down, I wanted him to go away and never return. He was emotionless, like a robot trained to teach. He never held a conversation with me that wasn’t work related. Never talked about himself or his life outside this house. It seemed like forever before we were done for the day. I gave him a little trouble, didn’t want them to think I was being too good. After Walt left, I went out to check on my garden. I watered it like the book said to and looked around for weeds that may have grown overnight. I went back into the house and pretended to read the le gardening book, mostly followed my dad around telling him gardening tips. “How about you go up to your room to read? Or the tree house? I’m trying to get some work done here and you’re making it difficult.” I looked a little down, “Ok dad, I’ll quit pestering you. Can I have some snacks to take with me?” He pulled out some graham crackers and a couple bottles of juice. “Knock yourself out. Don’t tell your mom I gave you the whole pack. She’ll have my ass.” We giggled at that. I left the house and hurried to my private forest. I carefully looked around to make sure he didn’t follow me. As soon as I felt like I was alone, I retrieved the book from it’s hiding spot and bolted for the tree house. I left the trap door open so it wouldn’t look like I was hiding if my dad came to check on me. I sat on my sofa and made sure the gardening book was open to a page that I had already read, that way I could answer questions if he came up. Ready to shove the secret book into the cushions if need be. I opened to the first page and was amazed by the list of things that lay before me. The contents page was a list of experiments and the dates they started and ended. Some had no ending date.I turned to the first page of the book.
By Mysticpyrate4 years ago in Fiction
