Posts Tagged ‘EP Original’

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Escape Pod 1044: Rhona’s Tavern and Spacetime Portal

Show Notes

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Rhona’s Tavern and Spacetime Portal

by S. L. Myers

The two boon companions walked through the snowy woods along the cobblestoned road, the night lit by hissing gas lampposts. Ahead, just seen through the scarecrow trees, a neon sign glowed bright green—RHONA’S TAVERN. The modest two-story brick establishment was the only structure on the icy, tumbling, carbonaceous asteroid trapped in the bubble of frozen time.

The two were deep in a conversation very few in any time or place would have been able to understand, talking over and with each other in a mix of Common Tongue circa 5345 New Era, and in the woofs, squeaks, and chirps of the Deinonychus, circa Early Cretaceous period.

The man and proto-raptor turned off the road and followed the narrow, winding path leading to the tavern. They stopped on the stone landing near the oak and wrought iron door with its leaded glass and waited for the defense systems to finish their scans.

A click. The heavy door swung out, and the two friends stepped in, blasters raised, ready for anything, everything.

(Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 1043: The Smokejumpers


The Smokejumpers

By Sierra Bibi

When Fern jumps from the plane into the smoke for the very first time, she believes she has nothing left to lose. That’s not to say she’s unafraid exactly—not even hundreds of hours of simulations and dozens of practice jumps can prepare you for the reality of plummeting into the hazy unknown of an active forest fire. No, her fear is definitely there, but folded and tucked somewhere deep inside herself. Compartamentalized.

The smoke hurtles towards her, the ground below hidden. She rips her parachute—a massive thing designed to support the heft of her exoskeleton—and jerks backwards. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 1040: Gods and Spirits Our Witnesses

Show Notes

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Gods and Spirits Our Witnesses

by S. C. Mills

We met in a public-access data booth at night, during yet another tropical storm, long after the angry god of the sea had gorged himself fat on Earth’s old icecaps. Rain hammered the booth’s cracked plastic walls with such brutality that I didn’t hear you walk in. I was staring down the chart of jacked-up daily data rates when you sidled into the tiny booth with me, half-lit by a stuttering streetlight. Close enough to touch, in a space meant only for one. You squinted at me, like you were calculating whether I was friend or foe.

You were scrawny, soaked to the bone, no doubt seeking any shelter from the sea god’s rage. Only a year or two younger than me, maybe, but your slim shoulders made you seem half my size. And the way your pretty wet eyelashes clumped together ’round your storm-gray eyes sent my blood rushing and my chest swelling with an ancient kind of pride. Like I was born to do nothing but give you all I had.

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Escape Pod 1034: “An Honour to be Nominated…”


“An Honour to be Nominated…”

by Jacob Seinemeier

TRANSGALACTIC NEWS- straight from the feed to your screed!

“…and how exciting to be gathered here for this night of nights, as the Planetary Terraforming awards for the 346 billionth Galactic cycle gets underway here at the Ghentool™ Interdimensional Ballroom!

Whether you’re tuning in via tachyon wave-transfer from the distant future, or via mental projection from the dawn of time; hologram, Tachygram or gene-tweaked data-encoder, we have all the stars of the industry gathered together on the Vermillion Carpet. Faint at the latest fashion! Gasp at the gossip! Most importantly, stay tuned- because we will be broadcasting live and in person to answer that most sought after of life’s questions- who will be this cycle’s rising star? Who will take home the coveted Terraformer of the Cycle Award?

Only we can give you the answer…but if you want the answer to your thirst, don’t forget to reach for a pouch of cool, clammy Ghentool™ and quench that fire…!”

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Escape Pod 1033: The Automatic Grocery Store


The Automatic Grocery Store

By G. M. Paniccia

It took thirty-six days, four hours, twelve minutes, and fifty-five seconds after the Glorious Revolution for Automatic Grocery Store #212 to realize that something was wrong.

It couldn’t have said, exactly, what the problem was at first, especially since it shouldn’t have had one. Its components were all in good working order. Its entryways and aisles were clean, and it had ejected any and all rotted produce from its shelves. No pests scuttled around the empty deli counter, and the store’s chief complaint—the customers—had all been taken care of in the Revolution. Automatic Grocery Store #212 even had the rare distinction among automated buildings of having chased a pack of sweaty hominids out of its aisles with the skewers of the deli’s rotisserie chicken machine. The mark of its patriotic duty, an elaborate ribbon, had been affixed to its front window in a grand and well-attended ceremony. The ribbon remained boldly on display for all of robotkind to see. By all accounts, this should have been bliss for Automatic Grocery Store #212.

But it wasn’t. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 1031: The Anatomy of Miracles (Flashback Friday)


The Anatomy of Miracles

By Filip Hajdar Drnovšek Zorko

For half a song every evening, the sunsets reminded the miracle worker of home. The hills were reddish-brown in daylight, but when the two suns, one after the other, slipped below the horizon, they came alive with purple highlights. He could almost pretend the hills were blue, instead, that the sea in the distance was true water and not liquid methane. On those occasions, he leaned back on his rear limb-pairs and, from a great distance, heard the timekeepers singing time.

He didn’t know what the window was made of. He couldn’t have said there was a window there at all, but for the fact he didn’t suffocate. He understood why his masters always sent him to inhospitable planets. His work was imprecise. It was safer that way. But this was the first planet that had been beautiful, the first that had brought the old songs ringing back. It was different. He felt it in his bones.

By first dawn, the hills were red again, and he was merely an old man who had not seen home in a long, long time. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 1030: The Smell of the Planet I Was Born On


The Smell of the Planet I Was Born On

By Rodrigo Culagovski

There are two moons visible, a large one right above us, and another smaller one about fifteen degrees below it in the star-studded night sky above the almost empty, rocky, lifeless surface of the planet. The horizon slowly takes on the slightly blue stain that comes right after the sunset.

“Still takes your breath away, doesn’t it?”

I turn to look up. Laiendro is standing behind me on the slight rise I chose to sit and enjoy the view.

“Yeah, it really does. It’s nothing like Earth, but it’s also the same, you know?” (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 1017: The Love Pyramid: A Rocky Cornelius Consultancy


The Love Pyramid: A Rocky Cornelius Consultancy

By Andrew Dana Hudson

“What do you mean you aren’t fucking?” Rocky Cornelius demanded. “That’s terrible! This is going to throw your whole value prop out of whack!”

The trio of button-cute narrative design prodigies glared back at her across the private jet with the anxious entitlement unique to twenty-two-year-old Bosto-Californian private school kids.

“It’s not like it was intentional,” Edna pouted. “It just hasn’t come up.” (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 1012: Hot Bot Summer


Hot Bot Summer

by J. R. Dewitt

“God, these bots are gorgeous,” says Sergei as he snaps another photo. And even though Aura’s just met him, she knows the guy means it.

She’s standing on one of Sergei’s beaches, her hair tied back in a loose bun, sandaled feet buried in a crest of white sand so freaking soft she can’t stop rubbing her toes in it. For the last hour since the auto-copter ferried her over from the mainland, the seventy-some Belarusian billionaire has been showing off his little bot menagerie he’s amassed over the years. “Robo sanctuary,” he calls it. A waste of a great island beach, Aura thinks. But she’s trying to nod and grin. Play the part of fangirl in the hope it greases the wheels a bit.

“And these?” she asks, pointing to more bots.

“Oh, yes, the old war models,” Sergei says as he raises the camera. “Are they not beautiful? The photos I publish don’t quite do them justice. Come, look, look. Get closer here. Don’t be shy.”

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Escape Pod 1010: Grifting the Zaxonite


Grifting the Zaxonite

by Cooper C. Wilms

Of all the cons in his little black book, Trevor McKay liked his current grift the best. Small-fish stunts like his Spanish Doubloon gambit were always foolproof and reliable for a week of food and booze, but there was no challenge to it. His Slot Machine Repairman scam raked in the dough and let him flex his inner thespian, but the security at the casinos would inevitably recognize his face. But The Stranded Zaxonite, as he had come to know it, made him proud to call himself, not just a con man, but a con artist.

He twisted his cigarette into the bar’s ashtray and raised his bourbon to his lips. His mark had to be a particular breed of man. Isolated. Desperate. Willing to believe. He scanned the room and took short, silent sips. He passed over the trio of soldiers in flirtatious conversation with a waitress, and ignored the man by the turquoise-inlaid jukebox that clearly owned the black Sportster out front; but there, in the back, with the thick Buddy Holly glasses and the beat-up porkpie, was the perfect target.

(Continue Reading…)

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