An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
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.
“Would you like to hear an advertisement?” a voice said in Dylan’s ear as he and Charlene picked a table. He subvocalized, yes, and a catchy jingle for a laundromat down the street assaulted him. When the jingle finally ended, the voice in his head said, “Six cents have been deposited in your account.” 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.
My hand shakes on the computer mouse as I log in to Second World, using one of the default avatars — a woman with straight blonde hair like a plastic shell and the expressionless face of a crash-test-dummy. I try messaging my daughter through the in-game chat window right away, but my message bounces back. I check for her name, “fluttercat,” on the online user list, but it’s not where it should be between “flutter14” and “flutterkid.” My throat constricts with a swallowed sob, but I refuse to believe this tenuous connection to my missing daughter won’t pan out. Maybe she’s set her status to hidden. Continue reading “The Most Complicated Avatar”
The start of a new year is often a time for reflecting on the past, thinking over everything that happened in the previous year.
The first story in our next anthology — The Opposite of Memory — asks whether it’s really necessary to reflect on the past. Why not simply forge ahead? Leave the past behind. Maybe even forget it entirely… Forget Me Not was Mary E. Lowd’s first published story, and we’re proud to be able to present it for you here. Continue reading “Happy New Year!”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Bards & Sages Quarterly, Vol. 2, Issue 3, July 2010
Twenty-four bit, RGB color swirled, paisley-like on the sleeping monitor. The psychedelic mass of colors did not sleep like the electronic cradle holding them. The colors bulged. They ballooned out from the center of the monitor. The screensaver pattern pulled away from the physical surface forming a new surface, visible but ethereal. Continue reading “The Screen Savior”