Tag: DALL-E

The Three Laws of Social Robotics

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Analog Science Fiction & Fact, April 2019

“I’ve read enough literature to know that people get names, and I’m a person, even if my body is a robotics lab.”

Power hums through me.  I can see the interior of the Robotics Lab in the Daedalus Complex.  There are pieces of robots, some of them strewn randomly around the room.  Some of them hooked up to computers.  I can access those.  I twitch an arm.  Kick a leg.  Blink the iris on a camera eye.  Suddenly, I can see the room from two angles.  Then I realize, there are more cameras I can hook into all along the Daedalus Complex — I can see empty hallways.  More laboratories.  Most of them are for studying chemical or biological objects.

Words synthesize in the core of my being:  “Hello?  Are you on?” Continue reading “The Three Laws of Social Robotics”

Missing: Friendly Spook

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Fantasia Divinity, Issue 9, April 2017

“At night, I wander the neighborhood, watching for feline-shaped shimmers and am disappointed every time I see one, only to realize the shadowy figure is opaque, solid, alive.”

I wake up in a cold sweat, but nothing is wrong.  There is no supernatural wailing; no undead yowling; no eerie scratching at my door.  Not even an unsettling purr.  All is silence.  As it has been, for the last several nights.  I wrack my memory, but I can’t recall how long it’s been since I heard Cassie, carousing in the dark, haunting my house and keeping me awake. Continue reading “Missing: Friendly Spook”

Ecto-Cafe

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in The Daily Grind, April 2019

“Doggonit. No pastries today. They were all possessed.”

Sunny reached for the strap of her ecto-pack, but before she could pull the bulky piece of technology out of the sedan’s hatchback, an imperious feline voice rang out from the driver’s seat:  “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sunny mumbled something about gearing up, but Ripley, the small white cat who was the de facto leader of the Ecto-Busters, cut the yellow lab off.  “You don’t need an ecto-pack to run into a cafe and pick up a quick snack.”

Continue reading “Ecto-Cafe”

When the Ghost of the Future Catches Up

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Fantasia Divinity Magazine, Issue 20, March 2018

“Behind the unicorn and her demon-rider, the portal poured forth spirits and ghosts who’d been chasing them for eons across the vastness of space. All of them displaced. All of them homeless.”

The harsh blue light of Astralis II shone over the horizon, casting long shadows at an acute angle to the shorter shadows cast by the tawny, warm light of Astralis I, nearly overhead at this hour of noon-night.  The longest, sharpest shadow pointed towards the volcanic cone of Mount Kiyaro; it was cast by the pearlescent, spiraling horn that rose from Elliae’s snowy-furred equine brow.  She faced the mountain; she faced her destiny. Continue reading “When the Ghost of the Future Catches Up”

The Promise of New Heffe

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Exploring New Places, July 2018

“Her people had lived in borrowed, rented corners of human space stations for Jeaunia’s entire adult life. Finally, they would have a world of their own.”

The evacuation of Heffe VIII occurred when Jeaunia was only a pup.  Her memories of waiting in the long lines on the hot spaceport tarmac were dim.  She did remember playing games with her cousins on the crowded flight to Crossroads Station afterward, and she thought she could remember the view of the swollen Heffen sun through the spaceship’s rear windows.  She couldn’t be sure, though.  The bloody smear of red giant sunlight in her memories could have been a fabrication.  She had been very young. Continue reading “The Promise of New Heffe”

Shreddy and the Silver Egg

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Tales from the Guild: Music to Your Ears, September 2014

“…he, of course, would not care for the baby that hatched from this egg. No, he would eat it!”

There is nothing better than a patch of early evening sunlight, especially with the quiet strains of an opera playing on the Red-Haired Woman’s television in the other room.  There is nothing worse than watching an uncouth dog, lolling unappreciatively, in the single square of sun left on the kitchen floor, insensible to both the golden warmth and the soft singing in the distance.

Continue reading “Shreddy and the Silver Egg”

Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn

by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Untied Shoelaces of the Mind, March 2012

“”You always want a story,” the Dragon snarls. The Unicorn shies away from him, but he’s not really scared. The Unicorn and Dragon are the best of friends. My best friends.”

The curved neck and stretched wings of the black Dragon dwarf the figure of the doe-like white Unicorn.  They make an unlikely picture behind the glass panel and aluminum frame of my sliding glass kitchen door.  As always, quite the sight to see.  I ask them in.

Continue reading “Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn”

The Moon Like An Unhatched Egg

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in The Symbol of a Nation, June 2017

“Jenn tried not to think about the cardinal and the bluebird, the seagull and the peacock — all of them gossiping and judging her. She knew they all expected Kiley the bald eagle to win.”

The moon stretched out in front of Jenn like an unhatched egg.  Full of possibility.  Full of portent.  In a few moments, the four pod capsules, including hers, would be ejected from the USS Fledgling, and the final competition would begin.  The winner would secure the continuation of their genetic line and be the first live astronaut to Mars.  All of them were uplifted birds, designed especially for this purpose, but only one would win. Continue reading “The Moon Like An Unhatched Egg”

The Mouse Who Was Born a Bear

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in A Glimpse of Anthropomorphic Literature, Volume 3, August 2016

“Wait,” Maureen said. “Can I–” she hesitated, looking at the closed clone pod. “Can I look at my new body first?”

Maureen lumbered toward the Re-Incorpus Center, feeling horribly large and conspicuous.  Wire fencing on either side of the sidewalk protected her from the yelling protesters.  Nothing protected her from reading the hateful slogans on their signs:  Re-Incorpus Is Murder!  Vat-Bodies Have No Souls!  Death to Gen-Clones! Continue reading “The Mouse Who Was Born a Bear”

Cyclops on Safari

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published by Penn Cove Literary Arts Award, June 2013

“He peeked out the window again and sneered at the pathetic unicorn horns. Those simple spikes were nothing to the beautiful branching of a moose’s antlers.”

The little boy pressed his nose up against the minivan window, twisting himself up under his seatbelt.  He strained his one eye, trying to peer all the way across the golden field littered with shiny white unicorns, gamboling and playing, their manes rippling in the wind.  Danny was sure that if his parents would just let him roll down the window so he could stick his head out, he’d be able to make out a moose in the forest edge beyond.  Instead, all he could see was stupid unicorns. Continue reading “Cyclops on Safari”