An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Luna Station Quarterly, Issue 017, March 2014
“She’s gonna be beautiful,” he said. He was human. I’m human. We were all human. Most of the patronage at the All Alien Cafe is human. Despite it being “all alien.” Anyway…
He was really bragging it up. He was designing a robot, and he had some sort of Pygmalian-hubris-God-complex thing going on. It was annoying as all get-out. I had to pick my moment. Continue reading “My Fair Robot”
When a reader opens a book and starts reading, they’re hoping to get lost in the story, dive in so deep that the words stop being words and start being an entirely new world surrounding them, drawing them in. Of course, you can always close the book and come back home. Sure, it may be 3am, and you’ll be really tired the next day. Still, the real world is waiting for you outside of the story. Continue reading “The Deep Well of Story”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, November 2011
Archive was telling stories at the corner table when Cobalt Starstrong came in. Cobalt looked at the rapt audience, mostly Heffen refugees, and thought about joining them. Archive was a wonderful storyteller, but Cobalt had heard him before. So, he took a seat at the bar.
“Bring me something I haven’t tried before.” Continue reading “Meet Archive”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Bards & Sages Quarterly, Volume IV, Issue 3, July 2012
Dennis took a bow and left the stage for his last time. He gripped arms with his brother and fellow band member; they grinned at each other and agreed it had been a good set. Cameras flashed, and fans shoved photos of him, hopefully, his way. He signed a few autographs, kissed a few girls, and made it to his car. This was the life. His job was being famous and adored, maybe singing a little too. When his day’s work was done, he could head over to a party. There was always a party, every night. Tonight, the party was at the docks, on a house boat. It would be good, lots of new stuff to try… and Dennis tried it. Continue reading “The Opposite of Suicide”
We’re down to the last three days of our twelve-day launch. We’ll be ending on a note of space opera, but before we depart back to the stars, here are two more stories grounded down here on Earth.
“Viewers Like You” is a light-hearted satirical look at television viewership, reality TV, and our future. Also androids. It’s not a story that’s meant to be taken seriously. Simply enjoyed. Continue reading “Two Takes on the Near Future”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Redstone Science Fiction #26, July 2012
Dylan reached into his pocket and pulled out his last tenner. He didn’t especially feel like drinking coffee, but he thought it’d look strange if he didn’t get something. Charlene ordered a double mocha frappacino and lemon cupcake with cream cheese icing. Dylan got the house coffee. Continue reading “We Can Remember It For You Retail”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in The Lorelei Signal, July 2012
“Put your hand back on the reader,” Boston’s mother chided. The boy squirmed but flattened his hand against the panel in the chair’s arm until his presence registered. He liked the show, but he wished keeping his hand on the reader was less necessary. Sometimes, in his own room, Boston didn’t bother with the reader at all. He felt guilty. He knew his mother would be mad if she knew. Continue reading ““Viewers Like You””
There’s a thin line between science-fiction and simply fiction, and that line moves every time we develop new technologies. Technologies that seemed futuristic fifty years ago — or sometimes ten years ago — are commonplace today. The inclusion of a super-powerful, pocket computer with GPS and video communication no longer means a story is science-fiction; it just means the character has a phone. Continue reading “The Thin, Moving Line of Technology”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in M-BRANE SF #30, February 2012
“You won’t regret this,” repeated in Bomani’s head over and over again as he made the distance from parked car to back alley door. The bulk of the bass speaker bounced with his pace, and he shifted its weight as he neared the coffee bar’s back entrance. Cradling the speaker between his chest and left arm, Bomani used his right arm to grab the door. He pulled hard, and the heavy gray-metal door swung far enough that he got his back to it before it slammed shut again. The door hit hard, square on his back, but this was his last trip, so Bomani didn’t mind. Continue reading “A Second Enchanted Evening”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, July 2012
It feels strange to me, deep in my stomach, that I can’t find my ten-year-old girl in real life — but that, maybe, I can find her here. Continue reading “The Most Complicated Avatar”