I’m Writing a Novel!





Power of Words

Arthur Chan, Man of Action


The Librarians


The Merchants


Long Nights


Spin the Bottle


Here There Be Dragons




Childhood in Zero-G




People Person


The Shinar Program


Knowledge Engine


My Father’s Interstellar Pawn Shop


Decision, 1974

Raceland_Louisiana_Beer_Drinkers_Russell_Lee small

The Legend of Aunt Cassandra


The Last What?

Artist’s impression of Corot-7b

The Thousand Year War

Classroom of the Armitage Senior Secondary School/The Gambia

Cyborg High



“I love you too, Veronica,” Said Ronald, huskily. “You look ravishing in your special pajamas. I could just hug you all night.”


Let us give a warm welcome to our incoming Editors. Welcome, Cohort of 2172! May your edits be always uncontested!

Society of the Editors

Having a super-smart kid is one thing. A billion of them is another. And a billion super-smart kids from some virus? Created by, what, some shadowy government agency? Probably employing honest-to-god mad scientists? No consent. Not even a discussion. No wonder people are pissed.


I had a teddy bear when I was growing up, a “Mike” by Standard. Remember those? The ones that got recalled when they started getting depressed? Yeah, it sounds weird to have a depressed toy, doesn’t it? It used to happen all the time though, with some of the early AIs. And really, depressed was […]

Rise of the Misfit Toys

The marketplace is no place for a nine-year-old girl, but that’s always where I spent my mornings. There was something about the crowds, jabbering in a dozen languages, pointing, taking, bartering, haggling, stealing… it’s intoxicating. The merchants would seize you by the arm and pull you bodily into booths, draping silver chains or silks over […]

Transistors for Bottlecaps

Dearest Charlotte: Of course it’s not an actual time machine. That would be ridiculous, would it not? Time machines exist in one place, and that’s in the fertile imagination of the public. What I have created could more precisely be called a Temporal Influencer (at the moment, I call it the Suggestron, but I am […]

Concerto for Piano and Time Machine

It’s been years since I seen him. He’s probably rusted out by now, or maybe the Wardens nabbed him for the war effort. Maybe his brain’s in a cruise missile or satellite somewhere now; I hear they can’t make a military brain the way they used to. But I can tell you how I remember […]

The Minstrel Mechanical

He was just a C-type android in need of a tuneup, and sometimes that bothered him. But not today; on a day like today he could forget what he was and just sense the sun on his face plate and the wind in his antennas. Factory voicebox or no, that robot knew how to sing.

The Android in the Red Convertible

Standard X-series utility units don’t usually go to parties, because they don’t usually get invited. And really, who expects a robot to know how to party? But some of them do. And when a robot throws a shindig, that party is the stuff of legend.

X7000’s Roboparty

It’s just you and me now, kid, and I’ve only got a couple hours of oxygen left. Pretty soon it’ll be just you. You’ll have nothing to worry about in cryosleep; you should have a couple centuries, easy.

Hope and Oxygen

We lost entire nights in the darkened booths after the crowds departed, tufts of cotton candy clinging to lips and fingertips, whispering confessions and laughter in the flicker of the cheap holograms.

Love in the Cirque Mechanique

It’s been years since the caravans have come this far west. I remember the wagons were like treasure chests, so much dust on the inside that you’d never guess what was on the inside. Sometimes they held droid chassis or an AI farm, sometimes medicines or other biological enhancements–legal or otherwise.

Of Cogs and Caravans

He was already gone, running faster than I’ve seen anyone move, threading through tourists without looking back. The military was there seconds later, helicopters and bullhorns honking “PLEASE REMAIN CALM.” I heard a single shot, and the man went down in a shower of sparks.

The Montmartre Incident

It was a military project, of course; they all are these days. As far as we know, it was the world’s first successful foray into the world of nanomechanics.

Beware the Water Dragon

It turns out that, on a really good positronic brain core, conscience suppressors just don’t work very well.

The Littlest Killbot

No one understands, but they don’t have to. For some, all they have to do is die. Die like heroes!

I Love You Megatons

The people returned, eventually, as people always do. They planted their crops where the ground wasn’t glass, and at night they shivered in their huts and listened to the howls on the wind. They called it the Ghost, but it wasn’t a ghost; it was a machine.

War Machine’s Lament

It’s a little bit like a digital seance. They have ghosts too, you know. Even after you wipe the disks and install a new AI, you’ll still find uncomfortable reminders of the last one.

Ghosts and Machines

I paid for a six month core because that’s all I could afford, but it turns out that’s just enough time to fall in love.

Sunrise Over Megatokyo

It was almost a joke–graveyard humor, you know? The whole world finally pulling together, pulling carbon out of the air, making things beautiful again… and what happens? Well, nobody really knows. All we know for sure is that it was wasted effort.

Winter is Coming

My third-grade teacher liked to talk about “the power of music,” but she didn’t know anything about it. That’s what they used. That’s how they got inside our heads, and that’s how they eventually killed us.

Sinister Orkestar