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Ex Machina, by Margaret Ronald (5/28/07)
Fiction.
"'And One said, I will choose among you certain of your folk, that they may know the lightning's path, and the mysteries of light, and the knowledge to heal that which was made and not born. For learning fails, and inscriptions weather away, and records molder, but the blood carries on.'"
Ferryman's Reprieve, by Kate Bachus (4/23/07)
Fiction.
"I killed a woman was dear to my heart. I knew it was a mistake when I done it."
What the Thunder Said, by Lavie Tidhar, illustration by Robert E. Hobbs, Jr. (4/2/07)
Fiction.
Certainty made his voice heavy, his Other whispering all the while in his ear, a warning Mr. Nine fought in vain to ignore. "It was no inyanga who did this to your friend. The boy's soul was taken by the storm."
Horatius and Clodia, by Charlie Anders (2/26/07)
Fiction.
"If you're a foreign currency, you can't come in," I said. "I'm not set up to do forex yet."
High Windows, by Lavie Tidhar (10/23/06)
Fiction.
The collar closed around my neck as the Ibn Al-Farid began its gentle acceleration towards the Jupiter system.
Spinning Out (part 2 of 2), by Jamie Barras, illustration by Carole Hall (10/9/06)
Fiction.
In ages past, on other earths, Pateelhogol's people, the Telorim, had controlled a great empire built on fabulous devices like the weather wheels. But they had warred amongst themselves. Their empire had fallen.
Spinning Out (part 1 of 2), by Jamie Barras, illustration by Carole Hall (10/2/06)
Fiction.
As night fell, Cap'n Macintyre gathered the crew on the quarterdeck for a council of war. "Well, lads," he said, "what's it to be: keep running or turn and fight?"
The House Beyond Your Sky, by Benjamin Rosenbaum, illustration by Vladimir Vitkovsky (9/4/06)
Fiction.
Among the ontotropes, transverse to the space we know, Matthias is making something new.
Draco Campestris, by Sarah Monette, illustration by Mack Sztaba (8/7/06)
Fiction.
They were once a prized exhibit, but after the great taxonomic scandal under the previous Director, they became an embarrassment rather than a glory, banished to a cavernous hall in the sublevels of the Museum.
Cinderella Suicide, by Samantha Henderson (5/15/06)
Fiction.
Cinderella Suicide had the Whoremaster backed against the greasy-smooth wall of the Tarot, blade beneath his chins. She had that grinning-skull look that meant she didn't give a damn anymore.
Portrait of Ari, by Mary Robinette Kowal (1/30/06)
Fiction.
Ari looked up from the mat she was cutting. "So the secret to getting you to dance is sleep deprivation?"
Bearing Witness (part 2 of 2), by Marguerite Reed (11/21/05)
Fiction.
"You show me a cosmonaut who doesn't have nightmares, you're showing me someone with no imagination. We all have 'em, we just don't talk about it."
Bearing Witness (part 1 of 2), by Marguerite Reed (11/14/05)
Fiction.
The biohazard bag floated by her knee. She pushed the pipettes in and zipped it shut. "Twenty more to go, and I don't have to run an experiment to tell you they'll turn out nonviable."
The Featherless Chicken, by Patrick Scott Vickers (10/24/05)
Fiction.
It's hard enough to pluck a chicken when the feathers are on the outside, but the other way around is simply impossible. Harriet's chicken is a Total Failure.
Exception (part 2 of 2), by Jason Stoddard (9/19/05)
Fiction.
But Arcadia couldn't be destroyed. It ran on its own set of self-replicating nanoscale processors that blew on the wind until they found a place with sun and silicon and set about reproducing.
Exception (part 1 of 2), by Jason Stoddard (9/12/05)
Fiction.
Something had reached through her memories, sending tendrils of thought from deep in her past to her present. As if another mind had tried to force itself into hers.
Family Tradition, by Frank Byrns (8/29/05)
Fiction.
An amateur, like I said, but still ... he's keeping up with me.
The Strange Desserts of Professor Natalie Doom, by Kat Beyer, illustration by Kat Beyer (8/22/05)
Fiction.
When I was little, I had the run of the lab. Sometimes I got into trouble.
Red Sky, by Celia Marsh (8/15/05)
Fiction.
She knew all the risks involved. She just thought that it would be worth giving up everything for even one trip. To be up there, looking up, falling down, nothing but distance all around.
Cloud Dragon Skies, by N. K. Jemisin, illustration by Frank Wu (8/1/05)
Fiction.
Even so, we kept our guard up. Who knew what new diseases they might have developed, up in the sky and surrounded by strangeness? Infected blankets. Germs as spears and arrows. Accept no gifts from them, the griots had warned, but of course people are greedy.
Pursued by a Bear, by Hannah Wolf Bowen (6/27/05)
Fiction.
He was there, later, when they took the last bear from the wild. He followed her until she fell, tranquilizer dart bright against her shaggy coat.
She Called Me Baby, by Vylar Kaftan (5/30/05)
Fiction.
"The exact wording was 'I wish for my daughter to be cloned from my DNA, so that I may give her a secure future in every cell of her body.' Your mother was giving you a gift—badly, perhaps, but she meant well. Now, will you go see her as she's dying?"
Planet of the Amazon Women (part 2 of 2), by David Moles (5/23/05)
Fiction.
In Myrine all they have is a cenotaph. Nobody knows what happened to the bodies. In Themiscyra they do not even have that; when they talk about men it's like they're talking about a metaphor, or a myth.
Planet of the Amazon Women (part 1 of 2), by David Moles (5/16/05)
Fiction.
But when it came it came suddenly, sweeping across Hippolyta in less than a year, in its progress less like a disease than like a curse. It defied drugs and vaccines and quarantines, brushing past exploration-grade immune enhancements as if they were so many scented medieval nosegays.
Archipelago, by Anil Menon (4/25/05)
Fiction.
The idea was to get a group of people to hook up their sensoriums in a certain way and then use a data feed—the "stim"—to trigger a synchronization of minds; a firefly swarm, as it were, of minds all blinking, signalling, and responding in unison.
The Diogenes Robot, by Mark Rich, illustration by Avijit Das (4/4/05)
Fiction.
I had fallen into a controlling mindset, the numbers said. Manipulative. Maybe I even lied, when I spoke to her. Maybe? The Truth Machine said I had, and that was that.
Tales of the Chinese Zodiac: Dog, by Jenn Reese (3/21/05)
Fiction.
Because it was the Year of the Dog, and because Hsien had grown tired of his ancient body, he went down to Meat Swap on Sunday and bought himself the body of a forty-pound mutt.
The Jenna Set, by Daniel Kaysen (3/14/05)
Fiction.
...and then if they say no you flip to page two and you ask them if it's the dinner or the oral sex that they have the problem with.
La Malcontenta, by Liz Williams, illustration by Emily Tolson (3/7/05)
Fiction.
In the centre of Winterstrike, Mars' first city, in the middle of the meteorite crater that gave the city its name, stands the fortress: a mass of vitrified stone as white as a bone and as red as a still-beating heart.
Moons Like Great White Whales, by Charles Coleman Finlay (2/28/05)
Fiction.
"You love the way we're alone together, with whole worlds to ourselves. Whenever you start thinking about colonists following after us, changing the landscapes we've shared, you always get depressed."
A Coffee Cup/Alien Invasion Story, by Douglas Lain, illustration by Jeff Foster (2/7/05)
Fiction.
The UFOs in the sky over Portland look like hubcaps. Silver or chrome-plated saucers, all of them roughly the same size and all of them spinning, hang miraculously in midair, but most people either don't see them or pretend that they don't see.
Homestay, by Tim Jones (1/31/05)
Fiction.
Nicola and I admitted that yes, we too had wings, but that we preferred to open them only when needed for flight. "Or in private," added Nicola. Her gaze swept the room as she said it, and I saw male gazes linger in return.
Two Dreams on Trains, by Elizabeth Bear (1/3/05)
Fiction.
A city like drowned New Orleans, you don't just walk away from. A city like drowned New Orleans, you fly away from. If you can. And if you can't . . . you make something that can.
The New Year's Party, or, Dancing on Sleipner's Bones, by David J. Schwartz (12/6/04)
Fiction.
She's stunning in a sleeveless black dress that's cut high and low and hugs her like a bodysuit. Her accessories are diamond stud earrings, matching tennis bracelet, and a pearl-handled Colt .45.
Time's Swell, by Victoria Somogyi and Kathleen Chamberlain (11/15/04)
Fiction.
Sometimes she tells me that she met me here, six months ago, that she knows nothing about my past. And then there are the days when she tells me that we've traveled through time, that we have come from the future and are trapped here. She tells me that she was a temporal scientist, that I was her project. Those are the bad days.
Echo, Sonar, by Kate Bachus, illustrations by Mats Holmgren (11/8/04)
Fiction.
Lost, Vaughn had thought to himself, as the commander's voice floated past him. He repeated it, thought of the tower of waves in squall and his father's big wool sweaters in the same somber gray. My father is lost at sea.
Prisoners of Uqbaristan, by Chris Nakashima-Brown (10/18/04)
Fiction.
Captain Womack recruited me as Hollywood's liaison to the military-entertainment complex, saying they needed more Tinseltown savvy over at Task Force Loki: the only covert operations team with its own reality show. I mean, in addition to the news, which we help program without even asking for credit.
Revision (part 2 of 2), by Jason Stoddard (9/20/04)
Fiction.
"There's no UNDO button. There's no 'just kidding' switch. Edits are permanent. Your mind is forever changed."
Revision (part 1 of 2), by Jason Stoddard (9/13/04)
Fiction.
When you're very old, the tree of the mind does require pruning. But altering the imbalance of personality should not be part of what an Editor does.
The Green Glass Sea, by Ellen Klages, illustration by Greg McBrady (9/6/04)
Fiction.
In the summer of 1945, Dr. Gordon was gone for the first two weeks in July. Dewey Kerrigan noticed that a lot of the usual faces were missing from the dining hall at the Los Alamos lodge, and everyone seemed tense, even more tense than usual.
The Pale, by Liz Williams (8/30/04)
Fiction.
She came out of the poisoned sea, my mother, out of darkness and winter.
Crossing Borders, by Tom Doyle (8/9/04)
Fiction.
Her most controversial feature was her face: the face of a precocious, prurient child, the kind of face that made the most innocent of lollipops look naughty. All the genders with a taste for human females found her repellent and irresistible at the same time.
The Algorithms for Love, by Ken Liu (7/12/04)
Fiction.
Every interview we did followed the same pattern. The moment when Clever Laura™ first turned to the interviewer and answered a question there was always some awkwardness and unease; seeing an inanimate object display intelligent behavior had that effect on people. Then I would explain how Laura worked and everyone would be delighted.
Straw, by Sarah Monette (6/28/04)
Fiction.
"Everyone I loved was dead, kid. Everyone. And I probably killed them, although I don't remember it."
Women Are Ugly, by Eliot Fintushel (6/21/04)
Fiction.
I took Clarissa to a burger place. I could have taken her to the rim of the black hole at the center of the Milky Way and watched the universe flash by, Big Bang to Heat Death, but she wanted a burger and fries.
Unfinished (part 2 of 2), by Jason Stoddard (5/17/04)
Fiction.
"I would like to have the focus to paint again. I would like to be able to remember what I did the day before, without confusing it with a day from forty years past. Or a hundred years past."
Unfinished (part 1 of 2), by Jason Stoddard (5/10/04)
Fiction.
"Most cases are only eighty to a hundred years old," I said. "In their first light mindclutter. I don't know why Clariti sent me to Edit you. I would think they would have sent someone more experienced."
Tetrarchs, by Alan DeNiro, illustration by Carole Carmen (5/3/04)
Fiction.
Buying oranges, one at a time, was one of my favorite things. Along with jazz, which was one good chord after another.
Alone in the House of Mims, by Barth Anderson (4/26/04)
Fiction.
"Your celebrity impressions are hilarious," said Wyhoff, smiling. "I love your Dick Cheney as Lon Chaney as Wolfman eating the senator. Nicely layered. Each imitation distinct."
Burn Here With Me, by Amy Hembree (4/19/04)
Fiction.
The day that Caleb signed the record contract, the first thing his brother told him was not to fly in planes. Rock stars die in plane crashes, he said.
Why I Am Not Gorilla Girl, by Daniel Starr, illustration by David Deen (4/5/04)
Fiction.
So I don't know why Jane's so mad because even if I am a Media Star it doesn't mean anything because I didn't get the guy.
Rapture (part 2 of 2), by Sally Gwylan (3/22/04)
Fiction.
I believe but for the events of this week, Josef would have been in a cell alongside Kropotsky & the others. As things stand it's almost certain he will instead bear witness against his comrades.
Rapture (part 1 of 2), by Sally Gwylan (3/15/04)
Fiction.
A small man whose gestures & intonation burned with fevered zeal, Owings exhorted his audience to Pray! Pray for the Holy Spirit to lead them into the ways of righteousness! As he shouted, the air inside the hall began to sparkle, golden motes drifting down. I doubted my eyes, but others were seeing it too, looking up, gaping.
Genderbending at the Madhattered, by Kameron Hurley (2/23/04)
Fiction.
By the end of the night, we were always drunk. Page and Nib would be yelling about whose turn it was to be male in their ongoing adolescent opera, and Rule would be wearing a dress, illegally.
Doctor Mighty and the Case of Ennui, by Paul Melko (2/16/04)
Fiction.
"So, yeah, I did the whole career quiz thing, and my empathy was zero and my megalomania was like 100, so I went with supervillain," Auntie Arctic said around a mouthful of pad thai. "It was either that or homemaker. What about you?"
Century to Starboard, by Liz Williams, illustration by Ursula Freer (2/2/04)
Fiction.
The sea looks just like my Versace silk camisole, but apparently we're expecting a storm later on. We've been through a typhoon already, off Manila. I thought I'd be terrified, but actually it was quite exciting, and we couldn't feel it at all—the Ship's big enough to ride out even huge hurricanes.
St. Ailbe's Hall (part 2 of 2), by Naomi Kritzer (1/26/04)
Fiction.
This past Sunday had been the craziest yet. There had been protestors outside the church—some objecting to Jasper's presence, others defending her right to be there. Three quarters of the people waving signs weren't Catholic, and nearly all of them were from out of town.
St. Ailbe's Hall (part 1 of 2), by Naomi Kritzer (1/19/04)
Fiction.
There was a Siberian husky in the last pew of St. Mary's. It was standing on its hind legs, holding a hymnal and singing, so Father Andrew knew that it must be an enhanced dog—but what was it doing in church?
The War of the Flowers, by Brenda Cooper (1/12/04)
Fiction.
Before I could touch my daughter, at the end of every day, I had to take a decon shower and pull on an ugly jumpsuit. That should have been enough penance.
Three Tales from Sky River: Myths for a Starfaring Age, by Vandana Singh, illustration by Naomi Nowak (1/5/04)
Fiction.
Her scalp was no longer bare, but covered with tentacles, each as thick as her little finger. They writhed and looped about her face, and gave her otherwise pleasing appearance a terrible aspect.
In the Late December, by Greg van Eekhout (12/22/03)
Fiction.
Santa goes down the list, pushing the team relentlessly across the black. Little girl after little girl, little boy after little boy, absent, vanished into the emptiness of the old, dying, dead universe.
Toobychubbies, by Nina Kiriki Hoffman (11/24/03)
Fiction.
When you have two kids who are less than four years old, you view the Toobychubbies as a godsend. No matter how good your intentions are to be the best mother in the universe, you have a finite amount of energy, and the kids are perpetual motion machines.
Twenty-One Pennies, by Joel Best, illustration by Robert J. Beam, Jr. (11/3/03)
Fiction.
The things people pray for, you have to wonder. Stone, he just wants to be human again.
Indra's Rice, by S. Evans (10/20/03)
Fiction.
Ganesh, in his aspect as Gajanana, loomed behind her, his trunk curling and uncurling. The noose he carried in his upper left hand rested loosely about her neck, rope prickling against her pulse-points.
Rushes #10 of 12: Deka Logos, by Jay Lake (10/20/03)
Fiction.
Are these injunctions? Instructions? Perhaps commandments to the faithful? None can say, though theories abound.
The Cleansing Fire of God, by Jay Lake (9/29/03)
Fiction.
Officially you're here for reading proscribed foreign journals. That and your history of secularism. But we both know you're really here because of the message you got from the moon.
See Jack Run: An Intergalactic Primer, by Wade Albert White (9/15/03)
Fiction.
See Q-zarc. Q-zarc is the enforcer who has been hired to break Jack's legs. He walks on twelve tentacles. Isn't he funny-looking?
Pressure, by Jeff Carlson (8/25/03)
Fiction.
Beyond this shelf, the sea floor plunged away for miles. This place was like another planet, strange and new, and I was the very first.
Momi Watu, by Nisi Shawl (8/18/03)
Fiction.
I scanned the labels of the laundry bags. Entomologists say two weeks is long enough. They've studied the life cycle; they should know. But it was researchers that got us in this fix in the first place, so I wait three, just to be sure.
Rushes #7 of 12: Stars in the Sky, by Jay Lake (7/21/03)
Fiction.
Pleiades boosts outsystem on a slow, spiral orbit, jealously leaching energy from bloated Sol, staying ahead of the limits of the radiation shielding. Sister Sun eats her children.
The Riverbed of the World, by B. C. Holmes (6/23/03)
Fiction.
"Suppose you were me," Kolay said to Galla, "and a foreigner came to you to ask why there are transsexuals in the world. What would you say?"
Linear Projection, by Tom Crippen (6/16/03)
Fiction.
That was 1965, the beginning of the silver epoch. Bud did not give it that name until enough decades had passed for him to finally catch on.
Lost and Found, by Sandra McDonald (5/26/03)
Fiction.
Mom considered the contraption over the rim of her coffee cup. "Where are my car keys?" The machine hummed for a moment and then displayed its answer in green block letters: "In the basket by the front door."
For the Plague Thereof Was Exceeding Great, by Jennifer Pelland (5/19/03)
Fiction.
Kathleen Murphy gripped her can of Mace tightly as she rode the Red Line to work, hands sweating inside the latex of her surgical gloves. All around her, her fellow T riders were openly clutching Mace or pepper spray as well, all glancing around the car from behind safety goggles and surgical masks.
Fetch, by David Moles (5/12/03)
Fiction.
"The Russians can't get their dog back," Akers said. "No way the capsule can reenter without burning up. Our guys think she's got air for maybe a week—ten days, tops. The President wants NACA to mount a rescue mission."
A Chromepunk Anthology, by M. Bennardo, illustration by Linus Persson (4/7/03)
Ram turned over his engine three times, six times, nine times, feeling the hot gasoline roar in his veins. He arched his chassis and spread his axles, chrome glinting everywhere under the sun.
Visit the Sins, by Cory Doctorow (3/31/03)
Fiction.
The kids had been scattered, unable to focus. Then they had the operation, and suddenly it wasn't a problem anymore. Whenever their attention dropped below a certain threshold, they just switched off, until the world regained some excitement.
Snow Day, by Jennifer Pelland (3/10/03)
Fiction.
True, I had sex with Max all the time. I mean, who didn't have sex with their android? That was their main selling point.
Why the Elders Bare Their Throats, by Patrick Weekes (2/17/03)
Fiction.
One day, the village children were out foraging with an elder when a Rikath came upon them, a great snarling gray creature with long fangs and crimson eyes. The children froze just as they had been taught, and the elder bounded off. The Rikath darted after him, stone knife ready in one paw.
. . . What a Spaceman's Gotta Do, by Daniel Kaysen, illustration by MAtt (2/3/03)
Fiction.
Trouble was, on the last day of high school I'd carefully and very publicly told everyone that in ten years' time I was going to be a famous writer, living in New York, married with no kids, skinny as a rake, and far too rich and successful to go to a reunion.
Interrupt, by Jeff Carlson (1/13/03)
Fiction.
Whatever happened to the sun seems to be intensifying. This time I blacked out for at least five days.
It Takes a Town, by Stephen V. Ramey (11/25/02)
Fiction.
THORNHOPE
POPULATION 850
HOME OF THE MARS ROCKET
The Scent of Rotting Roses, by Jay Lake (11/18/02)
Fiction.
"Do you know what that plant is worth? The gene package by itself, let alone a growing, healthy specimen." He grinned. "More than any bonus for old tech ever paid. And we found it."
Unspeakable, by M. C. A. Hogarth, illustration by M. C. A. Hogarth (11/4/02)
Fiction.
None of them were comfortable tales, and most of them were edloña, unspeakable, unthinkable. Why I returned, I could not say.
Wantaviewer (part 2 of 2), by Michael J. Jasper (9/23/02)
Fiction.
"You may want to come by some other time, ma'am. Sometimes the Wantas get that way, get a little out of control."
Wantaviewer (part 1 of 2), by Michael J. Jasper (9/16/02)
Fiction.
Nobody from the Netstreams had been able to get closer than this, and the airspace around all thirty landing sites had been restricted since the arrival of the ships in November.
Looking Back, by Corie Ralston (8/26/02)
Fiction.
My wedding band caught the light from the front porch. I pulled the ring from my finger and placed it on the table just inside the door. A small parting gift.
Lion's Blood (excerpt), by Steven Barnes (7/29/02)
Fiction.
Out of an enfolding bank of mist glided twin dragons. Rearing back like sea horses, stub-winged and fanged, each dragon was perched on the prow of a ship, each ship about fifty hands in length. The ships' oars scooped water and sculled ahead silently, every motion practiced and perfect.
Dream the Moon, by Linda J. Dunn (7/15/02)
Fiction.
Maybe it's better never to dream. Then you don't have to live with failure.
Other Cities #11 of 12: The Cities of Myrkhyr, by Benjamin Rosenbaum (7/15/02)
Fiction.
Each behemoth that screams by overhead is a mile wide, blotting out the sky in all directions.
Confounding Mr. Newton, by James Allison (6/24/02)
Fiction.
"The sun should be yellow, perhaps? Not black."
"That's not the sun," explained my brother. "It's me. I'm in mourning, you see."
Show and Tell, by Greg van Eekhout (6/10/02)
Fiction.
Show and Tell is my worst subject. I nearly failed it last year and almost did not advance.
Freedom, Spiced and Drunk, by M. C. A. Hogarth (5/27/02)
Fiction.
No anadi, no female, can escape the mind-death. It may claim you while you carry your first child or wait until your sixth, but it will claim you.
Other Cities #9 of 12: Jouiselle-aux-Chantes, by Benjamin Rosenbaum (5/20/02)
Fiction.
Jouiselle-aux-Chantes is the city of erotic forgetting.
Quink, by H. Courreges LeBlanc (5/13/02)
Fiction.
Base personality my ass. Yigs didn't have one, not even retreads. But people believed what they needed. They were all of them blinded by emotion.
Shepherd's Calendar (part 2 of 2), by Alan DeNiro (4/22/02)
Fiction.
"Some of the priests on the ship, the telepaths mostly, wanted to know the shepherds more. Maybe they thought that the shepherds were closer to God, closer than humans ever could be."
Shepherd's Calendar (part 1 of 2), by Alan DeNiro (4/15/02)
Fiction.
The shepherds made only two requirements of the crew on wherespace voyages: no sex, no violence.
Agent Provocateur, by Alexander Irvine, illustration by Ben Strickland (4/1/02)
Fiction.
Baseball fans are always alert to the possibility of history being made.
Miss Parker Down the Bung, by Kate Bachus (3/25/02)
Fiction.
Jenkins was a fierce free climber, for a digger. Likeden they'd have made her a rift scout, or even a survey crewman, hadn't it been for the trouble on that deep drop some time ago.
Other Cities #7 of 12: New(n) Pernch, by Benjamin Rosenbaum (3/18/02)
Fiction.
There is only one thing the machines cannot build, and that is the guiding intelligence of the new city.
The Final Solution (part 2 of 2), by K. Mark Hoover (2/25/02)
Fiction.
My father was an electrician. My mother taught piano. I don't remember much about my sister, except that she was very beautiful. There are no photographs; all I have are memories.
The Final Solution (part 1 of 2), by K. Mark Hoover (2/18/02)
Fiction.
"You're the only man who can do it, Paul. The only one who can set right what, surely, was never meant to happen. You'll be healing an open wound in the history of our species."
Time of Day, by Nick Mamatas (1/21/02)
Fiction.
I had just gotten off work and was on my way to more work when the phones in my mind rang. It was another seven jobs calling in, begging for my attention.
Other Cities #5 of 12: Ylla's Choice, by Benjamin Rosenbaum (1/21/02)
Fiction.
Ylla's Choice is a spherical city of several million. Its bonsai gardeners should be famous throughout the galaxy; its actors orate well; its corridors are clean, and through the shielded glass windows of a marvelous design, the glowing swirl of gas outside is beautiful.
"Identity Is a Construct" (and Other Sentences), by Douglas Lain (1/14/02)
Fiction.
The star cruiser Culture 1 resembles a giant library, but there are vending machines in the stairwells, and storage closets where we sleep, and there are lounges on every level, where constructs can meet each other, discuss pre-Socratic philosophers or MTV or Edward Hopper paintings, and attempt to fall in love.
driftings, by Dana Christina (1/7/02)
Fiction.
I am repetitive function, he said, and you
are decorative. Existence depends on quality
of performance. To avoid termination,
I must not err, and you must not break.
Carol for Mixed Voices (part 2 of 2), by Madeleine Rose Reardon Dimond (12/17/01)
Fiction.
When she came home the next night, she found the tree nailed, wildly askew, to the coffee table. Teenage accessories—earrings and keychains—dragged the drooping branches down further.
Other Cities #4 of 12: Amea Amaau, by Benjamin Rosenbaum (12/17/01)
Fiction.
Amea Amaau is a new and gleaming city in a matrix of six hundred and forty-three thousand cities exactly like it, somewhere in the terribly exciting part of the world.
Carol for Mixed Voices (part 1 of 2), by Madeleine Rose Reardon Dimond (12/10/01)
Fiction.
"I renew the pledge I made to you when I took office: you will be safe in your home, safe in your work, safe in your play from any who dare to oppose us. Wherever Americans walk, they'll walk in safety."
Money for Sorrow, Made Joy, by M. C. A. Hogarth (11/26/01)
Fiction.
One by one the rest of the caravan joined us: sturdy eperu, neuters, the only sex of the Jokka that could withstand the grueling travel of a trade caravan. Last of all came little Thodi, our orphan found two circuits back.
Alien Animal Encounters, by John Scalzi (10/15/01)
Fiction.
Our question this week: What is the most interesting encounter you've ever had with an alien animal species?
Ovigonopods of Love, by Joe Murphy, illustration by Gavin Schnitzler (10/1/01)
Fiction.
The first moon has passed its zenith. He-towers rise on all sides. Long slender Haes sail between them, skimming along the surface, their pods flared as sails. Shadows under the moon as shaes flit through the sky with pods spread to glassy thinness in crescent wings.
When She Came Walking, by Tim Jones (9/24/01)
Fiction.
The first time she walked down our street, pots jumped off stoves, coal leapt from scuttles, wood went rat-a-tat-tatting down hallways. In our yard, a broom and spade got up and lurched around like drunks, trying to decide which way she'd gone.
In a Mirror, by Kim Fryer (8/27/01)
Fiction.
Libby smiled. "It's okay to say ovarian cancer." Roger made a small sound and Libby looked up at him. "Not using the words gives them too much power," she added.
Toaster of the Gods, by Randall Coots (8/20/01)
Fiction.
"I am God," Larry's toaster solemnly intoned one morning.
Right Size, by M. L. Konett (8/13/01)
Fiction.
"We're sick of hearing about how perfect it is where you're from. If it was so good, how come your family's Okies too?"
Understanding Human Behavior, by Thomas M. Disch (7/30/01)
Fiction.
He wondered, as all erasees do, why he'd decided to wipe out his past.
Explosions, by Michael J. Jasper (7/2/01)
Fiction.
The Wannoshay had been here only eight months when the brewery blew up.
Going Once, by Mark Rudolph (6/18/01)
Fiction.
No matter how hard Aaron tried, he couldn't ignore the day he dreaded most: the day Darren's body would be auctioned off, piece by piece, to the highest bidder.
A Piece of Bamboo, by Derek James, illustration by Socar Myles (6/4/01)
Fiction.
"Today you will learn to fight," his father said. "Though I hope you will never need to."
Slugball (Part 2 of 2), by K. Mark Hoover, illustration by Frank Wu (5/14/01)
Fiction.
We plunged into blackness. Icy wind whipped tears from my eyes and blurred my vision. The grumble of the generator faded above, letting other sounds intrude: the squealing whine of the rollers sliding down the guide rails, cables straining with an unnerving twang, the metal car rattling and shaking.
Slugball (Part 1 of 2), by K. Mark Hoover, illustration by Frank Wu (5/7/01)
Fiction.
"Aleksander, if there's any trouble during the flight, kill Ms. Tal immediately."
Underground, by Jennifer de Guzman (3/26/01)
Fiction.
Fairy dust makes everything beautiful: when you're using it you look beautiful and everything looks beautiful to you.
The Calcium Efflux Conspiracy, by Joe Murphy (3/19/01)
Fiction.
"There isn't much time. The voices behind the Illuminati have fallen silent. The New World Order has ceased its relentless quest for world domination. I predicted this; they're puppets, after all."
Last Call in Temperance, by Alan DeNiro (2/19/01)
Fiction.
I fished the whiskey out of my pack, took a hot swig, and considered Sonny's dead body sprawled on my tomato-red couch.
Mary Margaret Road-Grader, by Howard Waldrop (1/29/01)
Fiction.
It was the time of the Sun Dance and the Big Tractor Pull. Freddy-in-the-Hollow and I had traveled three days to be at the river. We were almost late, what with the sandstorm and the raid on the white settlement over to Old Dallas.
Crossing the Camp, by Michael J. Jasper (1/22/01)
Fiction.
They step back to examine him. Most of them are already taller than me, almost as tall as Jaime. The adults, when they walk upright like humans, are nearly seven feet high.
Unreliable Witness, by Jo Walton (1/15/01)
Fiction.
My name is Katherine Whippleshaw, and I'm eighty-nine years old. Last week I was visited by an alien.
Late for Dinner, by Ursula Pflug, illustration by Christiane Pflug (1/1/01)
Fiction.
"Your mother knew enough to paint the doors and windows to other worlds. Those are the most important doors there are; it's only through them that the terrible darkness of our time can escape, only through them that the fish can swim here. She painted maps for them. If those doors are shut forever, we're all lost."
War of the Lights, by Madeleine Rose Reardon Dimond (12/25/00)
Fiction.
The Christmas season was already off to a bad start when a spaceship landed on top of my house. I hate it when that happens.
Words of Love, Soft and Tender, by Mark Rudolph, illustration by Cathy Buburuz (12/4/00)
Fiction.
Two black eyeless heads, one over each of her shoulders, puffed out green feed-me spoors. Garskein should have left her babies at home—her neck pouch must ache from the weight—but no one could tell her anything. Usually, a parent ate a first brood before their mouths opened.
The Secret Number, by Igor Teper (11/20/00)
Fiction.
"Bleem!" shouted Ersheim, banging his fists against the desk. "The secret integer between three and four!"
Little Brother™, by Bruce Holland Rogers (10/30/00)
Fiction.
"Little Brother™ isn't like your other toys, Peter," Mommy said. "You have to be extra careful with him, as if he were a real baby."
Occurrence at Arroyo de Buho Bridge, by Chuck Rothman (10/9/00)
Fiction.
A wonderful way to start the new year, Bierce thought as he faced the firing squad. No one offered him a blindfold. Bierce had come to Mexico with his eyes open, and would go out the same way.
Triage, by Tamela Viglione, illustration by Darryl T. Jones (9/1/00)
Fiction.
Forty-eight cases. Currently available public ward beds: twenty. Health care was a constitutional right. Universal health care, government-subsidized medical treatment, was available to all. Within limits.

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