Genres: Apocalyptic, Queer, Romance, Space, War
SECURE PRIORITY COMMUNIQUE
distribution SOLITAIRE, keyword MASQUERADE, source PENTACLE
FROM: TRIPLE INTENT
TO: ASPHODEL
BEGIN CONTENT
Even if you’re my enemy, I’m glad to hear from you. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Medical, Queer, Romance, Technology
Feb. 17, 3:40 AM. Audio notebook for new project: revival of a clinically dead patient, 36 year old male, died of hypothermia and shock.
The technician at the morgue hesitated when releasing him to me. I’m not surprised, with the tone that took hold of my voice as I corrected her Mr. to Dr. as she took down my details. When I gave her my name, her pen stalled over the paper—a giveaway that his parents had called before I arrived. I should be grateful that she released him to me anyway, honoring my legal right to the body. I should be grateful for so much, I suppose, even if it doesn’t feel like it, to have this opportunity to—to not let his story end in tragedy. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Artificial Intelligence, Queer, Romance, Space, Technology, YA
“Hey Marty,” Mom asks, “got a moment?”
I cringe whenever Mom’s voice has that tone to it. I don’t know what she’s going to say; but if I’ve learned anything in my thirteen years on this desolate, oxygen-deprived rock, it’s that she’s going to find a way to say the most mortifying thing possible. It would be impressive, the way that every sentence excavates my stomach—if it weren’t my stomach she was mining!
Okay, that’s unfair. Maybe this time it won’t be so bad?
“That girl who just walked past us. Why didn’t you ask her out?”
Or not. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Queer, Romance, Space, Technology
T-7 days
The moon Landed, the Rut appeared, home equity plummeted, jobs disappeared, and Ghis liked riding the moon. It was the last item on this tragic list that her wife couldn’t accept. It was the leaf that broke the whale’s back or something similar.
“It’s the last time, Max,” Ghis said. “I promise.”
Max rolled her eyes and blew cigarette smoke out the window. The pungent vapor followed the wind back into the house a second later. On another night years ago, Max had stood at that window on a full moon night with the light caressing her profile as she looked out at the landscape with a hopeful expression. But there were no more moonlit nights, and Max was no longer the hopeful woman Ghis once knew.
“I’m not lying this time,” Ghis said. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Multiverse, Queer, Romance
When he first approached me in the train station, I batted him away. I thought he was homeless. The weird, ellipsoidal neck tattoos creeping into view from his collar didn’t help. He persisted, and I took an actual look at him. Not homeless, just rough around the edges. When he talked, it was like he picked up a conversation I was having with myself. And staring into those ebony eyes of his didn’t hurt his chances either.
Coffee lasted hours. So did bedtime. When I asked him why he’d walked up to me, he said he liked the magenta scent of my locs.
With his accent, I thought he administered paralytics or worked in artificial intelligence, until he wrote out the word “synesthetic.” I didn’t really need all that. Just more kisses.
You have (3) unopened voicemails on your personal line. Last received 31 minutes ago, Aurea Minor Time.
> Read?
> No. Switch to broadcast.
> Engage deep space satellite?
> Yes. On, say…a five-sector perimeter.
> Live transmission upon connection?
> Sure.
“… and when I said that no, I didn’t order the pie, I made it myself, they said—they said, oh, you shouldn’t have made such a mess! And I, well, I, I cried.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s… it’s like the mess was all they saw, you know?”
“And you wanted them to see you.”
“Yeah… I mean, doesn’t everyone?”
Sam looked at the canopy of stars past the asteroid belt he was supposed to be mapping. None of them would’ve been visible from any of the planets he’d grown up on, but they felt familiar anyway. Distant and still, as his spacesuit ebbed and flowed. (Continue Reading…)
Genres: Aliens, Genetic Engineering, Medical, Romance
The entrance panels, currently assuming the appearance of Earthian saloon doors, slid open. I rippled a welcoming cadence of light beneath my skin, and then, seeing the newcomer was human, made my best approximation of a smile. “Welcome to Healixir Trans-Galactic Lounge.” My table sat closest to the doorway and so I was accustomed to serve as both healer and hostess.
The visitor cast his eyes about the place and swallowed hard. I imagined his first impression: a famous Vethusian writer once compared the sight of us, our humanoid bodies standing within the lounge’s oval counters, to women in wide crinoline ballgowns surrounded by suitors. Except rather than ringlets of hair, we had neurodendritic tendrils. I preferred the image of a Las Vegas dealer passing out cards to gamblers, except everyone won. Above us, the clear dome revealed the sky, ever-moving like a river, pebbled with stars and ships that streaked past like darting fish.
“My name’s Daniel. I’m here for healing?” the man said. (Continue Reading…)