Sci Fi
THE GODS OF GILGAMESH
There was a time when Russia's coastal Mirnyy Station supplied the Vostok camp by tractor-pulled sledges once a year. Those were the impoverished years when Russia struggled to maintain Vostok on its own. Global climate change, and the ever more critical need to understand it, altered all that. The long buried lake was thought to hold possible clues to long-term change. If its maybe million year pristine record could be studied, it might reveal that the changes that now threatened the earth were nothing more than vast cyclical events which mankind would eventually survive. Then again, the lake might prove that survival was no longer a sure thing.
By Mark Newell4 years ago in Fiction
THE GODS OF GILGAMESH
There was a time when Russia's coastal Mirnyy Station supplied the Vostok camp by tractor-pulled sledges once a year. Those were the impoverished years when Russia struggled to maintain Vostok on its own. Global climate change, and the ever more critical need to understand it, altered all that. The long buried lake was thought to hold possible clues to long-term change. If its maybe million year pristine record could be studied, it might reveal that the changes that now threatened the earth were nothing more than vast cyclical events which mankind would eventually survive. Then again, the lake might prove that survival was no longer a sure thing.
By Mark Newell4 years ago in Fiction
4-H-N
The first sun of Grindotron was still some hours from appearing above the horizon, and in the general grey of 4-H-N’s room the tiny square ink-bottle sitting on the nightstand looked blacker even than something black had any right to look. 4-H-N supposed that was not surprising, given what she knew of its contents.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
The Special Program
At Flash Club Headquarters was an unfrequented wing where the dormitory and refectory doors had lately been magnetically sealed. From the practice-room, which was the only area still lit on a daily basis, one exit not barricaded likewise led to individual stasis-pods for out-of-hours use. Arching overhead, emergency blast-shields had been promoted to a permanent post. The Special Program was in lockdown.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Masterclass
The land lay level, gold gradually mellowing to amber, and here and there the foamy jets of irrigation-hoses seemed as still as scattered brush-strokes on an oil-painting rendered in sun. Against a sky whose blue bore the first deepening tints of afternoon was suggested Nottingham’s distant outline, each slender rectangle blocked-in with the same hue of haze. Through the flat fields the road ran, and parked haphazardly along its grass verges were a black space-racer and a red, the occupants of each sitting atop their hoods.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Pursuit
Auntie Green shrugged off the hunk of roof that had fallen on her. There were times she was almost willing to swear that one of these days she was going to get too old for this. Not today though. Nor had Auntie Green reached the age she was now by being unprepared. She hastened through the ruination to the discreet private exit she’d insisted on having installed immediately after the first Special Program incident, and flinging aside with her bare hands the rubble in front of it finished her swing by caving in the closed hatchway with the sole of one boot. Possibly the manual release still worked, but why waste precious seconds finding out?
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
The Disappearance
The Disappearance It never occurred to me that I would ever get along with my older brother Harry. He would cause non-stop chaos, ruining many things for me, including some of my relationships. He would always cause trouble and I would get the blame almost every time. Our family lived in a small town in South Australia and owned the most beautiful winery. Our family was believed to be perfect, with a mother, father and two ‘beautiful’ sons. That reputation was ruined when Harry hit his teen years, starting physical fights at school, and even getting expelled. These days, he works under the supervision of my father. Only during work does Harry behave himself. Things became difficult for me in school, as my older brother gave me a reputation. After his expulsion, everyone began to watch my every move, as if I were a clone of my older brother. When things got hard for me at school, I desperately needed Harry’s guidance as mother and father were always too busy for me. Every time I tried to approach Harry, he’d say I was ‘selfish’ and ‘never listened to him.’ The truth was, I listened to his passive aggressive rants daily and never got a break. Many times, I wished for him to disappear, but alas, we must be careful what we wish for.
By Samantha Long4 years ago in Fiction
