Posts Tagged ‘romance’

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Escape Pod 1007: 35 / F / Lane’s Creek, Oklahoma


35 / F / Lane’s Creek, Oklahoma

By Hans Ege Wenger

Sandra loaded. Boxes and pallets, mostly. Full of avocados, computer chips, plastic toys, etc. All carefully placed by her rubber-faced grippers into the trucks that darted in and out of the warehouse bays.

On a good day, Sandra loaded something interesting. A heavy, oddly shaped package, requiring her to adjust her first person view goggles and sit forward in her chair, lips pursed in concentration. Or a tantalizing, vacuum-packed parcel bound for near Earth orbit. Once, an opaque tank, filled with flickering red-black fish. It brought a little variety to a day viewed through the cameras of a four-foot-tall, yellow robot. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 999: Eros, Philia, Agape (Flashback Friday)


Eros, Philia, Agape (Excerpt)

By Rachel Swirsky

The objects belonged to them both, but Adriana waved her hand bitterly when Lucian began packing. “Take whatever you want,” she said, snapping her book shut. She waited by the door, watching Lucian with sad and angry eyes.

Their daughter, Rose, followed Lucian around the house. “Are you going to take that, Daddy? Do you want that?” Wordlessly, Lucian held her hand. He guided her up the stairs and across the uneven floorboards where she sometimes tripped. Rose stopped by the picture window in the master bedroom, staring past the palm fronds and swimming pools, out to the vivid cerulean swath of the ocean. Lucian relished the hot, tender feel of Rose’s hand. I love you, he would have whispered, but he’d surrendered the ability to speak.

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Escape Pod 994: Magical Girl Antifa War Machine


Magical Girl Antifa War Machine

By Esther Alter

XYLIA

We were at the bottom of a hole, a new construction site that went deep into the bedrock. I was the first to touch the artifact, a thing that didn’t quite have shape or color. I grabbed it. My new consciousness slammed into my mind so fast that there was just enough time for only one last wholly-human thought: You’re a girl, you fucking idiot.

My new form was sleek. Mathematically perfectly curved. Hyperfeminine in the truest sense. Breasts extending into six dimensions. A tall, lithe, highly reflective body. A smooth face with eyes burning with seductive rage. And strength, immense strength. I flexed and felt a distant star flicker a warning. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 989: Holding Patterns


Holding Patterns

By Jennifer Hudak

I dream about the trees sometimes. I think we all do, even though none of my generation were alive when the forest was actually growing. We don’t dream about them the way they are now—stunted and dormant—but the way they were when the first colonists arrived here on Ariadne: pale smooth trunks growing straight and true, latticed with ropy, red-leafed vines that cradled the heavy fruit dangling off the branches. The canopy towering dozens of meters overhead, everything quiet and lush and smelling of damp. People say that back then, you could watch the trees growing in real time, budding branches and unfurling leaves. Even in the vids and holos they show us in school, the trees look so sturdy, so real—so permanent—that you could forgive someone for believing that they’d grow forever.

But the trees here want something we can’t give them—some murmur of information, an arboreal greeting, the plant equivalent of a rough hug and a shouted Hello! Good to see you! They’re waiting for something that will never happen.

Just like us. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 963: To Catch a Flieff (Part 2 of 2)


To Catch a Flieff (Part 2 of 2)

by Julia Rios

Three days later Alessia sipped tea by the circuit board, Mr Tumnus purring her lap. Things were going more smoothly than she might have feared. Too smoothly, if Alessia was being honest.

Darmanda was possibly the most considerate person she’d ever met, making sure to nap while Alessia was out and let her have the room—and bed—to herself when she came off shift. She even took care to exercise Fiona and tire her out, so she’d be quiet in her case while Alessia slept. And while Alessia was sure Arctic Flieffs must produce bodily waste, she’d never seen any evidence of that in her quarters. It was almost as convenient as living alone had been.

Alessia and Darmanda made a point of meeting up for meals at least once a day in the mess, for appearances.
They’d sit next to each other and sometimes Alessia would wrap one of Darmanda’s thick black curls around her finger. Or lay her head on Darmanda’s shoulder. Other times, Darmanda would rest a soft brown hand on Alessia’s knee. Gestures of affection they’d specifically discussed and given consent for in their initial negotiations talk, all designed to make them seem like a proper couple who were comfortable together.

It really was comfortable, and it was killing her.

(Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 962: To Catch a Flieff (Part 1 of 2)


To Catch a Flieff

by Julia Rios

Alessia frowned at the central circuit board of the Astral Dancer. Paw prints. Again.

She heaved an exasperated sigh. “Mr Tumnus, I have told you a thousand times, you can’t go into the engine. I don’t care how bright and sparkly it is, it’s not for cats!”

The cat did not reply. In fact, he was nowhere to be found, not even after she pried up the 3D printed plastic shield and wedged her upper half as far into the engine core as it could go without accessing the underside.

That was weird.

Usually if Mr Tumnus got in, he sat in a smug loaf on top of the accelerator panel, fluffy orange tail swishing as he batted at the flashing lights.

Then she heard the chittering.

Oh no. No no no.

Only one thing made this sound: Arctic Flieffs from Vorpalix. They were the most adorable puffballs, always a winner for page a day calendars and cheer up memes—and they wrought havoc on any habitat that wasn’t their own.

The chittering was a sign that this one was about to nest. In the engine core of the Astral Dancer.

(Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 959: This Little War of Ours


This Little War of Ours

By Arden Baker

 

SECURE PRIORITY COMMUNIQUE

distribution SOLITAIRE, keyword MASQUERADE, source PENTACLE

FROM: TRIPLE INTENT

TO: ASPHODEL

BEGIN CONTENT

 

Even if you’re my enemy, I’m glad to hear from you. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 951: The Scientist Does Not Look Back


The Scientist Does Not Look Back

By Kristen Koopman

Feb. 17, 3:40 AM. Audio notebook for new project: revival of a clinically dead patient, 36 year old male, died of hypothermia and shock.

The technician at the morgue hesitated when releasing him to me. I’m not surprised, with the tone that took hold of my voice as I corrected her Mr. to Dr. as she took down my details. When I gave her my name, her pen stalled over the paper—a giveaway that his parents had called before I arrived. I should be grateful that she released him to me anyway, honoring my legal right to the body. I should be grateful for so much, I suppose, even if it doesn’t feel like it, to have this opportunity to—to not let his story end in tragedy. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 891: Wanderlust


Wanderlust

by L. P. Kindred

When he first approached me in the train station, I batted him away. I thought he was homeless. The weird, ellipsoidal neck tattoos creeping into view from his collar didn’t help. He persisted, and I took an actual look at him. Not homeless, just rough around the edges. When he talked, it was like he picked up a conversation I was having with myself. And staring into those ebony eyes of his didn’t hurt his chances either.

Coffee lasted hours. So did bedtime. When I asked him why he’d walked up to me, he said he liked the magenta scent of my locs.
With his accent, I thought he administered paralytics or worked in artificial intelligence, until he wrote out the word “synesthetic.” I didn’t really need all that. Just more kisses.

(Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 831: Vi’Hun Heal


Vi’hun Heal

By Michelle Tang

The entrance panels, currently assuming the appearance of Earthian saloon doors, slid open. I rippled a welcoming cadence of light beneath my skin, and then, seeing the newcomer was human, made my best approximation of a smile. “Welcome to Healixir Trans-Galactic Lounge.” My table sat closest to the doorway and so I was accustomed to serve as both healer and hostess.

The visitor cast his eyes about the place and swallowed hard. I imagined his first impression: a famous Vethusian writer once compared the sight of us, our humanoid bodies standing within the lounge’s oval counters, to women in wide crinoline ballgowns surrounded by suitors. Except rather than ringlets of hair, we had neurodendritic tendrils. I preferred the image of a Las Vegas dealer passing out cards to gamblers, except everyone won. Above us, the clear dome revealed the sky, ever-moving like a river, pebbled with stars and ships that streaked past like darting fish.

“My name’s Daniel. I’m here for healing?” the man said. (Continue Reading…)

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