EP Metacast 5
Steve discusses the downtime and announces the new editor of Escape Pod.
Archive for Podcasts
Genres: Robot
Escape Pod 239: A Programmatic Approach to Perfect Happiness
A Programmatic Approach to Perfect Happiness
By Tim Pratt
My step-daughter Wynter, who is regrettably prejudiced against robots and those who love us, comes floating through the door in a metaphorical cloud of glitter instead of her customary figurative cloud of gloom. She enters the kitchen, rises up on the toes of her black spike-heeled boots, wraps her leather-braceleted arms around my neck, and places a kiss on my cheek, leaving behind a smear of black lipstick on my artificial skin and a whiff of white make-up in my artificial nose.
“Hi Kirby,” she says, voice all bubbles and light, when normally she would never deign to utter my personal designation.
“Is Moms around? Haven’t talked to her in a million.”
I know right away that Wynter has been infected.
Genres: Space
Escape Pod 238: Wind From a Dying Star
Wind From a Dying Star
By David D. Levine
After a time she found a small patch of zeren. She spread across it, taking a little solace from its sparkling sweetness. “Zero-point energy” was what Old John called it, but to Gunai and the rest of her tribe it was zeren, delicious and rare. Gunai recalled a time when zeren was something you could almost ignore — a constant crackling thrum beneath the surface of perception — but now there were just a few thin patches here and there.
These days the tribe subsisted mostly on a thin diet of starlight, and even that was growing cold. Soon they would be forced to move on again. Yeoshi had told her the foraging was better in the direction of the galactic core, but it was so far…
Escape Pod 237: Roadside Rescue
Roadside Rescue
By Pat Cadigan
“That’s a long time to wait.” The navigator’s smile widened. He was very attractive, holo-star kind of handsome. People who work for aliens, Etan thought. “Perhaps you’d care to wait in my employer’s transport. For that matter, I can probably repair your vehicle, which will save you time and money. Roadside rescue fees are exorbitant.”
“That’s very kind,” Etan said, “but I have called, and I don’t want to impose—“
“It was my employer’s idea to stop, sir. I agreed, of course. My employer is quite fond of people. In fact, my employer loves people. And I’m sure you would be rewarded in some way.”
Escape Pod 236: Still On the Road
Still On the Road
By Geoffrey A. Landis
Turns out, you know, that old dharma bum never made it off the wheel of karma. He had too many attachments, to the road, to words; and if you love the things of the world of Mara too much you fall back into the world, like gravity pulling back a rocket that doesn’t reach escape velocity. Two, three thousand years later, he’s still on the road. Really, nothing’s changed. And Neal, that old prankster, Neal never really did want to transcend, he loved to see it all streaming past the window, a constant moving circus disappearing in the rear-view mirror, loved to talk, loved it all.
Escape Pod 235: On the Human Plan
On the Human Plan
By Jay Lake
I am called Dog the Digger. I am not mighty, neither am I fearsome. Should you require bravos, there are muscle-boys aplenty among the rat-bars of any lowtown on this raddled world. If it is a wizard you want, follow the powder-trails of crushed silicon and wolf’s blood to their dark and winking lairs. Scholars can be found in their libraries, taikonauts in their launch bunkers and ship foundries, priests amid the tallow-gleaming depths of their bone-ribbed cathedrals.
What I do is dig. For bodies, for treasure, for the rust-pocked hulks of history, for the sheer pleasure of moving what cannot be moved and finding what rots beneath. You may hire me for an afternoon or a month or the entire turning of the year. It makes me no mind whatsoever.
As for you, I know what you want. You want a story.
Escape Pod 234: The Secret Protocols of the Elders of Zion
The Secret Protocols of the Elders of Zion
By Lavie Tidhar
It was afternoon, after school has ended for the day. Sash has been working in the hydroponics gardens, helping the adults with the delicate work of picking the buds. It was flowering time, and the ganja plants were at the end of their cycle.
It was then, with her hands sticky with resin and her skin tingling pleasantly from the work and the heat, with Mama Kingston’s deep, melodious voice saying ‘a good harvest, child, a good harvest’ with a throaty chuckle, when Sash felt about herself the presence of Jah in everything she did and was profoundly happy: it was then that Sash discovered, for the first time, the existence of the Secret.
Escape Pod 233: Union Dues: The Threnody of Johnny Toruko
Show Notes
Referenced Sites:
Union Dues: The Threnody of Johnny Toruko
By Jeffrey R. DeRego
I duck through the door behind her. The place is jammed with customers. “You have any money? I didn’t think to ask Miss Jennifer for any.”
TK answers, “don’t worry, just tell me what you want.”
“Large with extra sugar and cream.”
TK grins and focuses her attention on the line of people stretching from the entrance down to the counter. They all sidestep and she walks unimpeded front of the pack. “One large black, and one large with extra sugar and cream.”
The barrista, a girl of about 18, repeats the order in a flat monotone.
“And these are on the house. Everyone gets free coffee for the next two hours.”
“Free for everyone,” the clerk answers then puts our order together.
TK snickers and hands the coffee over.
Escape Pod 232: Flash Special
Show Notes
Referenced Sites:
Cybrosis — A podcast novel by P.C. Haring
This week Escape Pod presents three flash stories:
Alloy
By Marissa Lingen
Read by Electra Allenton
Flare
By Kyle Deas
Read by Stephen Eley
My Grandfather’s River
By Brenda Cooper
Read by Anna Eley
Escape Pod 231: Solitary as an Oyster
Show Notes
Special Closing Music: “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” by Twisted Sister.
Solitary as an Oyster
By Mur Lafferty
“Who’s there?” the voice asked, rough and unpleasant. Robert and Lydia glanced at each other.
“The Paranormalists, Mr. Scrooge. You called us a couple of hours ago,” Robert said.
“Took you long enough,” the voice said. The door clicked as Scrooge unlocked several locks, and finally it slid open a couple of centimeters. Scrooge peered out, the heavy chain still on the door. Jenny flipped the night vision off her camera to get a clear view of him in the foyer’s dim light. He was much smaller than his voice implied, a diminutive man who was probably a bear in the conference room, but a pussycat when in thin pajamas and a robe.
Well, not a pussycat. Something more like a weasel.