I cracked my knuckles and stepped forward, my arms raised. More of a signal to my opponent that I wasn’t giving up than an earnest attempt to attack. He still easily dodged out of the way, but my clawing hand caught hold of the edge of his sleeve for just a moment – he was slowing down. He knew it. I knew it.
thriller
The Mystery Man from Dym River: Chapter Two
“Can you hear me?”
A very pink face was looking down at me, with huge bug compound eyes and a metal grille where its mouth should be. Oh, I thought. I’m in Hell. Colder than I expected.
Four Reports on the Incident in the Unmappable Region: Report Three
In accordance with the Agency handbook (pages 900-940, 16th ed.), which specifies minimal contact with “suppressive” or “resistant” elements where not specifically sanctioned, I began by lodging a complaint with the Captain of the vessel (Lucille Wisdom, 67, Interluna Origin), in writing and then in person…
Four Reports on the Incident in the Unmappable Region: Report Two
So dangerous, this Marsage, but not so dangerous that you’d send more than one man to bring her in. Or gods forbid, a woman. What a joke…
Mexican Wave:Chapter Four
The wave of freezing cold air that hit her when she opened the hatch felt like being burned all over again. She screamed and shielded her eyes with her blistered, bleeding arms.
Mexican Wave: Chapter Three
Working in the ship was unpleasantly like being baked in the bad way, but eventually a loud klaxon sounded and Jackie came down to Jason.
“Shift’s over,” she said, jerking her thumb towards the door she had come in by. “I’ll take you to the mess.”
“Do we have to clean that up too?” said Jason innocently. To her surprise, Jackie snorted a quick laugh. Immediately after, though, she was dead serious once again. She led Jason out of the ship.
“You finish the soldering?” she said. Jason nodded, holding up her hands. A large red mark betrayed the spot where she had carelessly let her hand rest against a deceptively hot outcropping from one of the processor cores. Jackie laughed and held up her own hand. One exactly like it marked her own hand, just between the thumb and first finger.
“We’re all the same here,” she said. “Just some of us are the same in different ways.”
Mexican Wave: Chapter Two
“Have you ever heard the expression: ‘All you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun?’” said the woman behind the desk on the tv screen who was, yes, yet another of her. Jason shook her head. She was in what Cass had called “re-orientation”, a sort of untraining course where the only lesson was to sit still and listen. “Well. You are the girl, and I have the gun. Do I make myself clear?”
Mexican Wave: Chapter One
“Ah, Jason!” he said, and vanished into the green again. The way the light refracted through the water vapour in the air, it seemed to be coming from all sides. Then there was the sound of a heavy switch being thrown and a loud extractor fan whirred into life. The vapour billowed into the small box vents that dotted the ceiling, and Jason wondered how powerful a fan you would need to take the air with them. Someone was probably working on that on one of the deeper sub-levels.
“You’re probably wondering why I called you here,” said Paine, putting a test tube full of the vapour in a rack. It seemed to be lit from within by the same green light. “I won’t mince words with you: We’ve made contact.”
“See you around, Victrix Lament”: Chapter Two
The stinking air blasted past her face as the airbike swooped lower and lower, circling the enormous tower like a helter-skelter. Not for the first time, Lament was glad of her filter mask.
“The p-platform should be right here,” said the deputy in her ear. He was strapped into the bike just like she was, but still his arms were wrapped tightly around her waist.
“Nervous flyer?” Lament asked.
“More so the falling,” he said. “There it is!” he released one hand, pointing out straight ahead. Looming through the smog, a colossal structure: an abandoned mining platform, the sergeant had said…
“See You Around, Victrix Lament”: Chapter One
The first shot thumped through the space her head had been a second earlier, as she rolled into the room and pulled her force pistol from her belt. Black outfits. Armoured. No markings. Kill squad. She swept the legs out from under one of them and let fly with a shot at his buddy, who ducked behind Omar’s desk. Ugh. These things were never easy…
The Write Stuff 