Sci Fi

Space Station T.U.G. 0023
It had been three years since the accident that sent them into the clutches of space. One mistake was all it took. One mistake and their lives were changed forever.
By Euan Brennan5 years ago in Fiction
Meow and Then
She lived alone with her cats, which is as alone as a person could get. She didn’t even have any worries living with her, like most folks do. Her mortgage had been paid off and she had no bills, so she never received anything in her mailbox that wasn’t junk mail. Her special needs trust was managed by a trustee who took care of the mundane costs of living, such as her utilities and phone bill, so the trustee, besides making sure the property taxes and phone were paid, didn’t do very much to earn his $800 each month.
By Gerard DiLeo5 years ago in Fiction
The Box
When I Arrived back from market and entered my felt I was greeted by a blinding flash of sun light, and then it was just sitting there. So strange. So ambiguous. Had it been a last-minute thought as I left; to pick it up and place it there? It stared back at me from its perch atop the counter. Unsettling in a sense as I honestly could not recall were or even when it had arrived. Placing my markets bounty on the table I carefully inspected the thing from afar. Its corners and edges seemed sharpened in the light, brown intentional folds meeting and diverging to forum a box. A simple square box, about 12” by 11”. But why did I feel such fear, such dread? Why couldn’t I remember putting it there. Or for that matter when? my mind drifted away from the circumstances of the box, and on to what it might hold
By Aaron5 years ago in Fiction
The 8.40pm to Mars
Number of humans on Mars: 5,084,295,107 Number of humans on Earth: 3,998,672,803 SpacePort 04 in deepest Kazakhstan is not looking its best. After 16 years with no money for maintenance, the old London underground looks rather luxurious in comparison. Years of dust and dirt blown over from the MCL’s have left their mark, hardly the sparkling white images displayed on digiboards around the world. But the cleanliness of the Spaceport was not Lily’s biggest concern.
By Katy Stubbs5 years ago in Fiction
Crack
“Dammit!” Victor slammed his head against the keys on his typewriter, breathing heavily. He looked up to see a jumbled mess of letters on the otherwise clean sheet of paper. Groaning with irritation, he got up out of the chair to which he confined himself for the past two hours and stepped out the front door.
By Adam Wallace5 years ago in Fiction
The Final Launch
> Galactic Index Entry for Blegaia V4110: A category 5 biotech instrument designed as the launch vehicle for the Blegaia (Earth) Construction Project. Its encoded material promoted the harmonious growth of Level 1 organisms, while also enhancing climatic regeneration. The device, once armed, will propagate on its target area indefinitely.
By Ethan Warchol5 years ago in Fiction
The Iron Core, Pyro Tectonics, & The Lake Of Fire
Earth is a furnace, deep within. A place which is hotter than sin! It’s where life’s story did begin. The deep earth has many layers. Speaking the truth, we’re not haters. In life's game there's many players. Let's look at life from the surface. The Upper-crust's where we preface. Its where life does daily commence. Beneath that’s what we call the crust. A thick bedrock that we can trust. Its solid nature seldom busts. Beneath that's what's called the mantel, lots of molten rock & metal They say its where titans battle! Earth centers a hot iron core. A dense molten metal galore. It’s true nature we will explore.
By David Duran 5 years ago in Fiction
BENEATH THE ICE
I remember the first time I saw it quite clearly. The night was freezing. We had a foot of snow on the ground from falls over the last couple of days but this night we had crystal clear skies. Of course, that’s why it was so, so cold.
By Margaret Flood5 years ago in Fiction
Surviving Extintion Entry 003 & 004
ENTRY LOG 003 January 1, 3011 Yesterday I was turned on by robots as the war ended and transcribed all that happened. I was turned off when the override happened, so I’m still ruled by the three laws. I keep running my main programming, I have no choice but to keep studying and analyzing humans, by humans I mean the brains in the jars and the limbs that I have connected to the computers, that’s the only thing that remains of the human race. For some reason, many of the robots kept farming even when we don’t need to eat, some kept in law enforcement even when there were no humans to protect, some had no purpose and just stayed still, without purpose they could not move. The robot that started overriding the others, whose identification is 01000001 01100100 01100001 01101101 00001101 00001010, started reconstructing the cities, improving them to our needs, with the help of other robots he is recruiting.
By Angel Delgado5 years ago in Fiction
The Paper Chase
AUTHORITY: Central Intelligence CASE FILE: 18767=462 SUBJECT: Confidentiality Breach IMPLICATED: XXXXXXXXXX AGENT(S): XXXXXXXXX, XXXXXXXXXXXX
By John Ceperich5 years ago in Fiction
No Time To Spare
The whizzing of fired rounds crack the air as they narrowly miss taking my life or at the very least knocking me off my bike. As the automatic weapons being fired at me echo with their deafening rhythm of pop pop pop, I'm reminded of my favorite song and its' beat is now stuck in my mind. I find myself bobbing my head to the sounds of proceeding shots, all the while frantically maneuvering the 1300 cubic centimeters of power beneath me. I scrape piles of refuse, dodge two-foot deep potholes, and even cut my leg rather badly on the edge of a parked, burning car. That cut is going to bleed pretty bad, but I don't have time to even look down at it. I'm being hunted. I counted at least six men, all who to belong to an ironically named militia called the Saviors. They are on bikes just as fast if not faster than mine, chasing me like a scared rabbit through the war-torn streets of my hometown. The Saviors will stop at nothing to insure that anarchy rules, and strength becomes the only source of power. Cinched to my back is a backpack containing a box wrapped in brown paper. What's in this box is the reason I now risk my very life.
By Luke Woodruff5 years ago in Fiction
One large miss-step
My right boot touches down on the red soil—the first man on Mars. Long nights dreaming of this moment, trying to make sure it all went right. Now, at least behind me, my phallic-shaped rocket of power, showing the universe who is boss, is erected in all its glory. The two fuel tanks are right where they should be. Sadly they told me hair was not an option. But, still, we had violated the inky blackness, come to the land of promise.
By Storyteller5 years ago in Fiction