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The Station KeepingACT I The alarm said the oxygen levels were nominal. David didn't believe it. He floated in the observation cupola of the Hermes Space Station, three hundred miles above the Pacific Ocean, and watched the Earth turn. It was a blue marble, impossibly bright against the black, swirling with white clouds that looked like brushstrokes on a canvas. It was beautiful. It was indifferent. It was,...0 Comments 0 Shares 15 Views 0 Reviews
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The Mirror of MindsACT I The fog in London was not weather. It was architecture. Dr. Alistair Vane stood at the window of his consulting room on Harley Street and watched it settle over the city like a shroud, muffling the gas lamps and blurring the outlines of the buildings until the world outside his window became a watercolor painting of grays and golds. Inside the room, the gaslight was steady and warm,...0 Comments 0 Shares 9 Views 0 Reviews
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The Dam That DreamedACT I Thomas Clayborne woke up inside a wall. He was not literally inside a wall—he was in the control room of the Guntersville Dam on the Tennessee River, lying on the cold concrete floor, his left arm pinned beneath a fallen piece of equipment, his right hand still clutching the clipboard that had contained the day's readouts. But he was also, in a way that he could not explain but could not...0 Comments 0 Shares 10 Views 0 Reviews
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The Sealed Man**OTMES-v2 Code: M3/Conflict θ=200° | Hardboiled Noir** --- The rain in Los Angeles don't wash anything clean. It just makes the grime slicker, makes the neon signs bleed their colors across the pavement like a watercolor painting done by a drunk artist. I stood under the awning of my office building on Flower Street, cigarette dangling from my lips, watching another Tuesday night drown itself...0 Comments 0 Shares 32 Views 0 Reviews
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THE WEIGHT OF NOTHING### Act I: The Spark Ethan Cross stood in the supermarket aisle for twelve minutes before making a decision. The decision was about cereal. There were fourteen brands on the shelf, from store-brand corn flakes at three dollars a box to artisanal granola at nine dollars, and Ethan was trying to choose one. Not because he was hungry—hunger was not the issue. The issue was that each choice carried...0 Comments 0 Shares 51 Views 0 Reviews
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Shadows in the BookshopThe man who killed them was called the Gentleman, and he wore a grey overcoat and a smile that told you he was sorry before he pulled the trigger. Jack Callahan did not see him do it. He saw the aftermath, which was worse. Seven bodies in a room on East Forty-Second Street, each one a man he had served with, each one dead because Jack had been standing in the bathroom with a headache that felt...0 Comments 0 Shares 23 Views 0 Reviews
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The SymbolHe woke up and the number on the door was eight. He did not know if this was the right number. He did not know what the right number was. He knew that the number was eight because he read it, and reading was what he did, and he did not know why he did it or where he had learned it or whether the number meant anything at all. The mailbox on the wall next to the door had a letter on it. H. He did...0 Comments 0 Shares 25 Views 0 Reviews
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The Fallow GroundThomas Calloway landed his craft in what had once been the Mississippi Riverbed and found, instead of an empty wasteland, a settlement. It was built on the edge of a great gorge—steel plates and concrete and salvaged rock, clustered together like a tin-city clinging to the cliff. Smoke rose from a few chimneys. A handful of figures moved about, their silhouettes stark against the black plains...0 Comments 0 Shares 25 Views 0 Reviews
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The Southward PromiseACT I: THE SOUTHERN CALL The snow had not yet melted from the Boston wharves when Patrick O\'Brien received the letter. It arrived on a Tuesday, borne by a courier whose boots were caked with the red clay of Maryland and whose eyes carried the particular look of men who have seen too much and said too little. The letter was sealed with black wax, unmarked save for a single initial: H. Patrick...0 Comments 0 Shares 53 Views 0 Reviews
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