Quick Reads – Page 2 – Deep Sky Anchor

Jetpack and Cyborg Wings

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, October 2018

“Neither of them wore spacesuits — their exoskeletons protected most of their bodies, and a thin coating of amphiphilic goo around their joints sealed the gaps up well-enough for an hour long joy-jaunt around the station’s exterior.”

Lee-a-lei and her clone-daughter Am-lei perched in the Crossroads Station recreational airlock with their long spindly legs folded. The two lepidopterans exchanged a glance with glittering, multi-faceted eyes. Lee-a-lei was nervous and kept flapping her mechanical wings, but her daughter looked excited.

Am-lei didn’t have wings. She’d followed the traditions of their homeworld and had her yellow-blue-and-purple wings cut off after she metamorphosed. So, she wore a simple zero-gee jetpack like a human or one of the canine Heffens would. The jetpack strapped around her thorax, firmly secured. Lee-a-lei had checked her daughter’s straps several times. Continue reading “Jetpack and Cyborg Wings”

Black Swans

by Mary E. Lowd

A Deep Sky Anchor Original, October 2022

“Why are you afraid of the black swans? They’re only swans, floating on the surface of a lake, gleaming with the depth of nebulas in their feathers.”

I watch the lake, peaceful and serene; white swans float on it with the graceful delicacy and stillness of ice sculptures or many-tiered, fondant-covered wedding cakes.

Then the black swans come. One after another. Crashing into the water, wings spread wide and flapping.

Progress has begun. Continue reading “Black Swans”

Thirty Honey Feasts To Go

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Theme of Absence, July 2018

“My great-great-great-grandmother was the last queen who had the honor of awakening you,” the ship’s computer answered. It was a hybrid brain — part computer, part hive — with the reigning bee queen at its heart.

Marga held her broad paw up to the star-studded window, lining it up so a single spark of light tipped each of her blunted claws. Her own constellation. She wondered if any of those stars had habitable worlds circling them. She knew none of them was New Sholara. Not from this window. Not from this side of the ship.

A purple-and-amber-striped worker bee buzzed down and landed on the thick brown fur of Marga’s shoulder, reminding her that life support was limited. She left the window behind and moved from one cryonics pod to the next, starting their rejuv cycles. Bees followed her, buzzing in the air. Continue reading “Thirty Honey Feasts To Go”

The Crowds on Crossroads Station

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, July 2017

“He knew he’d out-stepped his place, but he was suddenly very excited about seeing the insides of Crossroads Station.”

Roscoe’s velvety nose twitched, but his long ears stood tall in spite of his jittery nerves. The view of Crossroads Station on the viewscreen was intimidating: three concentric wheels, rotating in alternating directions, each one lined with rows after row of glowing windows. Shuttle pods and star cruisers of all designs were docked on the outer ring. Continue reading “The Crowds on Crossroads Station”

Galaxy Shaker and the Celestial Rainbow Dragon

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Every Day Fiction, June 2017

“…she looked like a mythical creature — a celestial rainbow dragon — not merely a pop-star reptilian alien with a good stage crew.”

Star Shaker’s scales glittered and shone with rainbow colors under the spotlights. Her barbed tail swayed, and she flapped her tiny vestigial wings as she sang into the mic. With the backdrop of stars behind her, she looked like a mythical creature — a celestial rainbow dragon — not merely a pop-star reptilian alien with a good stage crew. Continue reading “Galaxy Shaker and the Celestial Rainbow Dragon”

Inalienable Rights

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, August 2017

Roscoe’s long ears would not stand tall, no matter how he strained to hold them up. His reflection in the empty viewscreen looked haggard and scared, but he’d stared at it for long enough trying to compose himself. He would never be composed. He had to proceed anyway.

With a nervous twitch of his nose, Roscoe opened a communication channel to the planet below, and moments later, a familiar face filled the viewscreen: his cousin Chilchi. Her ears stood tall. Continue reading “Inalienable Rights”

Paper Horn

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, September 2020

“”I don’t think she’d love me even if I was a real unicorn,” Tulip said.”

The paper cone I’d taped together from an old piece of algebra homework slipped off the pony’s forehead and landed in the clover at her hooved feet. Mallory laughed derisively and said, “What were you trying to do? Play unicorn?”

The pony, Tulip, turned her head away, abashed, but she didn’t say anything. I couldn’t believe Mallory was lucky enough — and rich enough — to be given a real Smart Pony for her birthday, and still stupid enough to treat that pony like trash. Continue reading “Paper Horn”

True Feast

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Typewriter Emergencies: A Journal of Furry Lit, May 2017

“She shouldn’t stop here; it would only slow her down, and she’d fallen far enough behind the migration.”

Argelnox hunched her shoulders inside her mechanical shell. The metal casing chaffed against her soft, wrinkly green skin. She’d been traveling for months, solo-zipping from one planet to the next, skimming only deep enough into each planet’s atmosphere to replenish her oxygen and basic nutrients, soaking them into her suit’s mechanical gills before sling-shotting towards the next.
Continue reading “True Feast”

Where Have All the Mousies Gone

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, December 2021; recipient of the Ursa Major Award for Best Short Fiction

“My grandmother died ten years ago when the cats invaded our world, landing their flying saucers on top of our cities, crushing our skyscrapers, and then chasing our people like we were nothing more than animated rag dolls.”

Does it matter what your last thoughts are when you die? If you could choose them — they would be hope, wouldn’t they? A bright future. Waiting. Ready. And you’re going to miss it, but wouldn’t you rather die looking out on a shining expanse of golden sunlight, reflecting off ocean waves and filtering through leafy forests? Cities full of smiling people, whiskers turned up in happiness. Bare paws dancing on the concrete streets, and long tails tied together, turned like skipping ropes as adults, filled with laughter, act like mere kits. Continue reading “Where Have All the Mousies Gone”

Green Skin Deep

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in All Worlds Wayfarer, September 2020

“The two photosynthoid aliens greeted each other in their own language, sounding like a dance of bells and wind chimes.”

“We’re so much alike,” Trinth said, forming the sound of the words through her flute-like reeds. She certainly didn’t look much like S’lisha, a reptilian alien. Trinth looked more like a cosmic rosebush — she saw through flower-like eyes; spoke with flute-like reeds; and used grasping vines to walk and grab. Continue reading “Green Skin Deep”