The Giving Plague
You think you’re going to get me, don’t you? Well, you’ve got another think coming, ‘cause I’m ready for you.
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Science Fiction
The Sweet Spot
“I’m gonna visit Dad.” Matt is curled in the passenger seat of their antique minivan, scowling as offworlders tromp and slither past their front bumper. Shooting a glance at Ruthie through long, pretty eyelashes, he flips down the visor to check the mirror.
Requiem in the Key of Prose
There is such a thing as an antifuse. This device is used to maintain the ongoing flow of electricity when there is local failure. The antifuse works similarly to a fuse in that it is designed to be sacrificed for a specific goal. But while a fuse is sacrificed to stop electricity from flowing, an antifuse is sacrificed to guarantee that the electricity does not stop.
The Way of Cross and Dragon
“Heresy,” he told me. The brackish waters of his pool sloshed gently.
“Another one?” I said wearily. “There are so many these days.”
A Plague of Zhe
My inquisitor wore a hangdog look more than earned by the absurdity of this official interview. Had I the ability to be annoyed, I didn’t even imagine I would have been. Amused? Possibly: The incompetence of these proceedings was palpable enough.
The Cristóbal Effect
The wooden detour barricade is barely in place when I spot the car closing fast from the east. Just a glint of light against the desert hills, yet I know it is his car. I ignite the last flare and toss it onto the centerline of the lonely rural two-lane highway.
Different Kinds of Darkness
It was always dark outside the windows. Parents and teachers sometimes said vaguely that this was all because of Deep Green terrorists, but Jonathan thought there was more to the story. The other members of the Shudder Club agreed. The dark beyond the window-glass at home, at school, and on the school bus was the second kind of darkness.
The Cross-Time Accountants Fail To Kill Hitler Because Chuck Berry Does The Twist
Mabel blurred through the Doorway and stumbled into a wall. She groped for a fingerhold, anything to prop herself up until the gut-twisting vertigo passed. Every time she experienced the blur it got a little worse. All that worse added up to worst because she had made hundreds of auditing trips to the past during her thirty-nine year career in cross-time accounting.
