Posts Tagged "short fiction"

Jupiter and Gentian

by on Aug 4, 2014 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

Gen walked on the endless, oscillating sea of liquid metal hydrogen and tried, tried to keep her consciousness together. The knight who followed her into the atmosphere, swam through the outer sea of hydrogen with her, he was here too. His armor defied the pressure, his banner defied the heat, and his hands, deep within the boiling, rolling mass of Jupiter. He stood beside a tree that constantly remade itself as it burned and crumpled. “What is higher?” he asked. Like the tree, Gen was continually remaking herself, atom by atom, impulse by impulse, against the continuous roar of the planet. Over and over, she practiced her married signature in a burning diary. She swam....

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Courtship in the Country of Machine–Gods

by on Jul 1, 2014 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

PLEASE ENJOY THE FOLLOWING NOVELETTE Courtship in the Country of Machine–Gods by Benjanun Sriduangkaew Featured in The Apex Book of World SF 3 edited by Lavie Tidhar An Apex Publications Book! One of the most exciting young writers of speculative fiction working today, Thai author Benjanun Sriduangkaew exploded onto the scene in 2012 with a string of high–profile novelettes, of which this lyrical tale is one. In the shadow of machine–gods I tell wayfarers of a time when my people were a nightmare the color of hemorrhage and glinting teeth. There are other narratives, but this is the one they want to hear most, the one they pay with their adoration and bright–eyed want,...

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Insurrection in Silk

by on Jul 1, 2014 in Short Fiction | 2 comments

She is drowning in organza and shantung, a rustling mass of indigo and royal purple. The fabric whispers under her hands, defying her to prick a finger and spot the silk. Its cost is unfathomable: even the scraps are precious, trimmed square and painstakingly hemmed into handkerchiefs for royal favors, and the whole is worth far more than a dressmaker’s life. The apprentices’ work is done, and they’ve gone out to enjoy the Conqueror’s Festival or home to their beds. The imperial dressmaker remains, burning through scores of beeswax candles, her neck and shoulders aching as she hunches over her task. The basting must be finished before the fitting tomorrow morning,...

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Not Smart, Not Clever

by on May 6, 2014 in Short Fiction | 1 comment

The lecture theatre I’m trying to enter holds three hundred, but the security doors only admit two people at a time. Smart. I wait with the gang — Isha, Barb and Zach — in the underground atrium. “Lin,” Isha asks me, “you totally don’t have to tell me, but are you on brain–rec?” “No. I mean, not yet, anyway.” “I am,” Isha admits. The gang gasp. Isha is normally squeaky–clean. “I didn’t cheat! I was on face–rec,” Isha explains, “but then I was writing my Decadence essay and the face–rec didn’t know who I was, because I was wearing a hat. So the department put me on brain–rec, too.” She frowns. “It’s not fair. It was my thinking hat.” The gang coos. Isha is adorable. The...

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Repairing the World

by on Apr 1, 2014 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

By the time Lila and Bridger arrived, the sitting room floor was already part savannah. Yellow grass grew on dirt where hardwood had once been. The border between grass and floor hissed and threw up sparks as the savannah crept towards the davenport on one side, the longcase clock on another and towards Lila on a third. On the fourth, the grass seemed to stretch through a wide hole in the far wall to a pale green horizon. The intrusion, however, couldn’t have breached the far wall yet. The house hadn’t collapsed. Lila ticked a mechanical dragonfly with the time, location, and the nature of this intrusion, wound it up then threw it into the air. Its wings blurred as it...

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