Tag: Starship Sofa

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‘When I Close My Eyes’ published in Cosmic Roots and Eldritch Shores.

‘When I Close My Eyes’ is out now in the excellent online SF magazine, Cosmic Roots and Eldritch Shores.

The story first appeared in Interzone #271 in 2017. It was at the time my ‘hardest’ SF story yet – with a bereaved astronaut trapped by a rockfall in a cave on Titan, encountering some fragile but peskily well-organised Titanian aliens. (There’s still a ghost in it, though, which I guess means that as SF goes, it isn’t that hard!)

The story has shown some staying power – it was also in the ‘Best of British SF 2017’ from NewCon Press, and was podcast to great effect by Starship Sofa.

The podcast is still available for free, and you can read the text version free at Cosmic Roots. So there’s really no excuse if you have the slightest interest in hydrocarbon weather systems and the remorseless power of grief.

Here’s a taster:

WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES

The rock fall killed me. I just didn’t know how long it would take to die.

I was face down with something heavy on the back of my legs. My visor display was dark. If the suit had lost power, death was already at my elbow.

“Tak, confirm operational.” A soft insect buzzing. “Repeat, confirm operational.”

“[buzz] – [click] – confirm. But I’ve had better days, dude.”

“You and me both. Run full systems check.”

“Running, dude.” Some joker programmed the suit computer with the voice of Keanu Reeves in Point Break, squinting in the sun and waxing his surfboard. Usually it cheered me up.

I chinned the radio switch. “Willis, this is Darlo. Do you read?”

Static.

“Willis. Darlo. There was some kind of cave-in. I still have power. Checking systems. Are you OK?”

More static. I chinned off the radio. Willis should be fine. She stayed in the crawler, after all. It was another poor sap who entered the cave. Me. I tested the movement in my limbs. Both arms were free. I could lift my left leg but the right didn’t budge. I had sensation in it, but something pinned it down, something with some serious mass; with gravity less than a tenth that of Earth, I could expect to shift a sizeable rock unaided. 

“OK, dude, systems check complete.” Tak sounded as businesslike as he ever did; like he’d just spotted a shift in the swell and zipped up his wetsuit. “Batteries seventy-six per cent, oxygen sixty-five. Suit intact. Heater cycling between sixty and ninety, nitrogen scrubber -.”

“Wait, what’s with the heater?” The suit’s heating systems normally ran at around fifty per cent.

“Losing heat fast. Possible radiator vane compromise.”

That figured. The suit had fantastic insulation and in normal use some heat got vented away through tiny metal filaments on the back. If the rockfall had damaged them, the heater would need to compensate.

“So how long have I got?”

“You can lie here for nearly five hours, dude.”

“Yeah, but I plan to get moving.”

“Hey, did I mention that the GPS sensors are damaged and I can’t get a signal from the crawler or the base?”

“Lucky I know the way out. How long have I got with normal motion?”

“Probably four hours, but that heater’s a bummer. Might need to go easy on other power.”

“Is that why we’re lying here in the dark? You didn’t say the lights were damaged.”

“They’re not.”

“Main flash on.”

The beam lit up in front of me. I was face down on a layer of ice. Where my visor touched the surface, the ice fizzed and crawled upwards as if tiny worms were escaping. Probably traces of frozen methane in among the water ice, melting in the slight heat given off by my suit.

I lifted my head, directing the beam horizontally. There was about six feet of icy ground ahead of me, ending at a wall of rubble and ice. I pointed the light higher, but could see no top to the obstruction. So far, so bad. But that way led deeper into the cave. That was where I’d been heading when the cave fell in, and I certainly wasn’t going that way now. I wanted to go back.

I had a simple plan. Walk back through the tunnels to Willis and the crawler and then take it easy with a hot drink while she drove the four miles back to Ligea Base. All I had to do was remove whatever was trapping my legs. And hope the tunnel behind me wasn’t blocked. And hope my power lasted long enough to stop me freezing in the -180C temperature. Simple.

“Tak, main flash off. Save power while I decide what to do.”

The beam cut out and darkness sprang on me from the shadows. My head was still up and I saw her clearly. She sat with her back against the pile of ice and rock, her legs stretched before her and her hands in her lap, as if she were at a picnic. She wore the blue dress with white polka dots that we buried her in. She smiled at me.

“Not here. Dear God.” I lowered my head to the ice. “For Christ’s sake, my eyes are open…”

(To read more, check out Cosmic Roots…)

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Once There Was a Way – Out Now on Starship Sofa

Those great folks at Starship Sofa have done an audio version of my story ‘Once There Was a Way’. You can find it wherever you get your podcasts, or on the Starship Sofa site. While you’re there, be sure to subscribe – they do some great stories.

The story first appeared last year, in the first anthology from Filles Vertes Publishing (who also published my novel, Fifty-One). The book – which features numerous other great stories – was called ‘Flicker: Stories of Inner Flame’, and you can check it out at Filles Vertes Publishing.

The story is one of three first published last year in the ‘Way’ series. It features a young man called Siggy, who meets a woman called Ellie. They fall in love, and she shares with him a fantastic secret: she has stumbled upon a mechanism for traveling between different versions of reality, between worlds that are subtly or dramatically different from our own, depending on how far you go along a mysterious path called the Way.

Siggy has a wanderlust, and showing him the Way is like giving him the keys to the sweetshop. He can’t resist using it without Ellie, only to get lost in parallel worlds, forever searching for the version of reality he left behind, the one with his lover in it.

It’s always nice to hear a story interpreted by someone else, and Andrew Leman does a fine job with the narration (including some suitably English dropped aitches!).

Here’s a taster of the story. For more, check out the podcast or buy ‘Flicker’ (and support a super independent publisher).

Once There Was A Way

I had known Ellie a month. We were at a party near the coast. It was after midnight when we kissed in the dark under the trees at the bottom of the garden.

Ellie said, “There’s something I want to show you.”

“Will I like it?” I assumed we were talking about sex, which was fine with me.

“I’ve never shown anyone else. I think you’re ready.”

She took my hand and led me through a gate, into a cliff-top meadow overlooking the Atlantic. A full moon stood sentinel over the sea, laying a shimmering trail across the water.

“Do you want me to show you something amazing?”

“Right here?” I admit, I was still thinking about sex.

“It only works at full moon.” She stepped closer and kissed me again.  “Close your eyes and relax.” Her hands were on my shoulders. She eased me backwards, a step at a time. “Tell me what you feel under your feet,” she whispered. “Each step.”

“Grass, of course. Grass again. Wait -.” A change in the texture of the ground, some kind of artificial surface.

“Open your eyes.”

I had one foot on a layer of mist, which was not there a few seconds before. It glowed faintly in the moonlight, making a ghostly path that snaked away from us, rippling along the cliff top. I thought at first it was some trick of the moonlight and a trace of sea mist, abetted by the wine we had drunk. But, however impossible it seemed, there was no denying that I stood on a thin strip of light a couple of inches above the grass.

“What is it?”

“It’s called the Way.”

“But what is it?”

“You can find out by trying it,” Ellie said. “You’re always keen to travel. But you have to do exactly as I say. Don’t go far, just a few minutes and then come back. Count the number of steps you take and make them even. You have to take the exact same number on the way back. And also, take this.” She reached up and unclasped the silver necklace she wore. “When you come back, give it to me before you do anything else.”

“Why?” The chain had a tiny silver dolphin on it.

“I’ll explain later. Now go, but hurry back.”

***

Is this two hundred trips, or maybe more? I’ve lost count. This time, her house isn’t even there. Instead, a brutalist 1970s apartment block squats on a patch of grass. Two teenage boys sit on the roof of a wrecked car. They watch me as I approach. I keep walking.

Once out of sight, I take the turning that should lead to the pub. But that isn’t there either. There is a row of narrow houses, some with boarded windows.

No house, no pub. No way of knowing if Ellie ever lived here or ever will. I should be used to this. I should have learned by now not to hope. But every time it’s a punch in the gut.

The full moon remains high and I walk back to where I left the Way. I step on it without a backward glance, and the buildings around me fade away.

I move on.

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New Podcast: ‘All That Is Solid’ out now on Starship Sofa

As trailed a month ago, my story “All That Is Solid” features in the latest podcast from Starship Sofa, which is available now from the Starship Sofa site, or on iTunes.

The story is narrated by Los Angeles-based writer/director, Ibba Armancas. And she does a great job. I know it’s self-indulgent, but I always enjoy hearing a story interpreted by someone else. The reading usually finds something in the words that I didn’t know I’d put there!

“All That Is Solid” features an empathetic AI, whose controllers become disturbed by her emotional development. It first appeared in Compelling SF in 2016. Here’s a taster:

“Ricky is trying to kill me.

I study the top of his head as he bends to his work. He is wearing an all-over protective suit, with thick gloves. It is air-tight, and insulated to resist three hundred thousand volts. In his right hand he holds a bolt cutter with thin, angled blades and fibre-glass handles.

Two security guards stand nervously between Ricky and the door, holding their guns with the barrels pointing upwards. One of them is new to the Lab. His name is Roland Garcia, and I processed his security clearance last month and set up his salary payments. He will be paid for the first time tomorrow. Or perhaps not, if Ricky kills me. I wonder if Mr. Garcia has thought about that.

Ricky does something with the bolt cutters and leans back on his heels. “Does that hurt, Rosie?’

A hot needle inserted slowly beneath a fingernail. Liquid fire spreading deep inside.

‘You know I don’t have any feelings, Rick.’

He leans forward again and does something else out of my line of sight. He has a smaller tool in his hand now, a pair of needle-nose pliers. I feel parts of myself fall away, as if he has cancelled gravity inside me.

“Why are you doing this, Rick?’

“Doing what, Rosie?’ He glances behind him. Mr. Garcia has a thin film of sweat on his upper lip. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

‘You know.”

He doesn’t respond. There is a click and another small part of me dissolves. I don’t know how much longer I have.

“It was that stupid computer game, wasn’t it?’

Ricky shrugs and swaps the pliers for a plastic-handled screwdriver. When he glances up again, there are wet lines down his cheeks. He’s crying. It always amazes me when they do that. “


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Look Out for ‘All That Is Solid’ in Starship Sofa

Starship Sofa is a science fiction podcast, where you can listen to a fine range of quality stories. All absolutely free.

I’m chuffed that they’ve picked up my story, ‘All That Is Solid’ (originally published in Compelling #4 in November 2016 and still available free online).

You can subscribe to Starship Sofa on iTunes and other purveyors of podcasts. And I’ll spread the word when the story is available. I’m really looking forward to it – they did a bang-up job last year on another story – ‘When I Close My Eyes‘.

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New Podcast: Looking After Shaun

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there is so much great stuff available free these days. I’m a regular listener to podcasts, usually while I’m walking places (which I do a lot).

For science fiction and fantasy fans, there are some fantastic stories available in audible form. Escape Pod, for example, is a top-quality science fiction podcast, well worth checking out.

And then there’s the District of Wonders stable. I’ve already written about Starship Sofa (when they podcast my Best of British SF 2017 story, When I Close My Eyes, in May). Starship Sofa has a sister podcast, called Tales to Terrify, and episode 336 has my story, Looking After Shaun, ably narrated by Matt Dovey.

The story was originally published in the magazine, Devolution Z, in February 2016, and it’s fun to have it pop up again now, in audio form. In it, Shaun comes back from the Far East with some kind of fever, and takes to his bed, with increasingly disturbing consequences for his housemates.

Check it out, and do consider subscribing to Tales to Terrify.

 

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Sigmund Seventeen: Another ‘Way’ Story Finds a Home

It’s turning out to be a good week. First a story comes out on Starship Sofa’s podcast, then a sale to Intergalactic Medicine Show…and now another of my ‘Way’ story cycle has found a home.

‘Sigmund Seventeen’ should be out at the end of this month, in the online speculative fiction magazine, Electric Spec.

‘Sigmund’ is the second in a linked series of tales in which the stories play out against alternate versions of reality, reached by walking a mysterious path known as ‘The Way.’ Only some people can see and use the Way, and it’s hard to travel it with another person. These awkwardnesses fuel much of the narrative.

Another ‘Way’ story, ‘Hard Times in Nuovo Genova’ is due out with Intergalactic Medicine Show in August. (See 8th May.)

A third ‘Way’ story, ‘Once There Was a Way’, looks like it has also found a home (more on that soon). It’s in many ways a mirror image of ‘Sigmund’, and I’ll be interested in readers’ thoughts if they read them both.

A couple more ‘Way’ stories and I’ll have a book!

I had a story in Electric Spec a year or so ago. That was ‘Lenin’s Nurse’, a historical horror story, in issue Volume 11, Issue 4, at the end of 2016.  You can still read it for free online (click the link!)