Speculative Fiction
JUNE 2019
ONE-TENTH
DAWN VOGEL
The last ships to leave Earth were packed to the gills. Seven hundred passengers in cryo, with a crew consisting primarily of medics and ship's operations, crossed the vast distances to the new world where we planned to make our home. I'd made the journey six times each way‑‑awake on the way there, sleeping on the way back, to make the trip less monotonous. I monitored a cryobank containing one hundred passengers. Not the most stimulating job, but it paid well and gave me time to work on long-deferred journal articles.
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ONE-TENTH
DAWN VOGEL
The last ships to leave Earth were packed to the gills. Seven hundred passengers in cryo, with a crew consisting primarily of medics and ship's operations, crossed the vast distances to the new world where we planned to make our home. I'd made the journey six times each way‑‑awake on the way there, sleeping on the way back, to make the trip less monotonous. I monitored a cryobank containing one hundred passengers. Not the most stimulating job, but it paid well and gave me time to work on long-deferred journal articles.
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FEBRUARY 2018
OLDER MODEL
TREVOR KROGER
~
Jerome’s knee started clenching again as the subway took a sharp turn through the tunnel. This always happened when he’d been standing too long - and “too long” was growing shorter every day. He looked around for an empty seat, or rather at this time of day someone willing to give up their seat out of pity for a pained old body. At these times everyone looked so much more closely at their phones and tablets, heads sinking down like turtles to avoid eye contact.
Jerome didn’t expect much more, of course. He’d been the same in his younger days - not that long ago, really - so he couldn’t hold it against them. Didn’t make his poor knee hurt any less though, and he couldn’t help his face twisting into a grimace as another jolt of the subway car gave him a fresh flash of pain.
At least he put on a good show. A small boy with a kiddie-hawk haircut and holograph of happy cartoon mutants on his shirt gaped at Jerome. “Mommy, what’s wrong with that man?” he asked in innocent wonderment.
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OLDER MODEL
TREVOR KROGER
~
Jerome’s knee started clenching again as the subway took a sharp turn through the tunnel. This always happened when he’d been standing too long - and “too long” was growing shorter every day. He looked around for an empty seat, or rather at this time of day someone willing to give up their seat out of pity for a pained old body. At these times everyone looked so much more closely at their phones and tablets, heads sinking down like turtles to avoid eye contact.
Jerome didn’t expect much more, of course. He’d been the same in his younger days - not that long ago, really - so he couldn’t hold it against them. Didn’t make his poor knee hurt any less though, and he couldn’t help his face twisting into a grimace as another jolt of the subway car gave him a fresh flash of pain.
At least he put on a good show. A small boy with a kiddie-hawk haircut and holograph of happy cartoon mutants on his shirt gaped at Jerome. “Mommy, what’s wrong with that man?” he asked in innocent wonderment.
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JANUARY 2018
READY OR NOT
RICHARD MANLY HEIMAN
In the darkened auditorium, men and women in military uniforms, laboratory and business attire sat impatiently. as the frock-coated man at the front of the room tapped the microphone. The buzz in the room hushed.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “Welcome. My name is Jonathan Chalmers and I’m the technical director of this Institute. Thank you all for being here this evening for a demonstration of one of the most important scientific discoveries of our time…” he paused. “Make that, of all time, as you’ll soon see."
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READY OR NOT
RICHARD MANLY HEIMAN
In the darkened auditorium, men and women in military uniforms, laboratory and business attire sat impatiently. as the frock-coated man at the front of the room tapped the microphone. The buzz in the room hushed.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “Welcome. My name is Jonathan Chalmers and I’m the technical director of this Institute. Thank you all for being here this evening for a demonstration of one of the most important scientific discoveries of our time…” he paused. “Make that, of all time, as you’ll soon see."
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NOVEMBER 2017
LAST CHRISTMAS
MIKE MURPHY
Harrison was surprised to see the sheep and goats being walked through the lobby. He approached the front desk. “Excuse me?” he said.
The innkeeper, a tired-looking, white-bearded man, approached him. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you a room,” he said. “We’re full.”
“Excellent!” Harrison replied. “The other inns had vacancies. That’s how I knew they weren’t the right one.”
“You’re happy I have no available rooms?” the confused innkeeper asked.
“I am,” Harrison added. “I’m not actually looking for a room.”
“You’re not here for the census?”
“No, I’m just passing through. I was hoping you might help me locate an old friend. He would have arrived with his wife and a donkey.”
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