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Escape Pod 977: Reflected in Mirrored Skies (Part 2 of 2)


Reflected in Mirrored Skies

by Deborah L. Davitt

Mariana stood in the security room, listening to Tesar and Bitna Park-Lee speak to the head of security. Ephraim Novak was a tall man with a surprisingly weathered face. “You’re saying that all the video and logs from the entire station were deleted between 17:00 and 19:00? Down to who opened which doors?” Tesar asked incredulously.

“Whoever did it, clearly didn’t want their route discernible through omission. And probably easier just to do a full sweep of the files,” Novak replied, shaking his head.

“Are the files recoverable?” Bitna asked in her precise manner. “Surely you have ways of reconstituting lost data.”

Novak shook his head again. “They knew what they were doing. The data’s gone.”

“Which implies that it would be a member of your staff, given that whoever did it also got into your secure system.” Tesar bit off the ends of his words.

(Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 976: Reflected in Mirrored Skies (Part 1 of 2)


Reflected in Mirrored Skies

by Deborah L. Davitt

Above them, stars; below, the endless roil of leaden clouds that engulfed Venus from pole to pole. Mariana Delahaye watched the radar screen and eyed the autopilot’s trajectory. Beside her, her co-pilot had his feet up on the console. “Relax,” Oluwa Jelani told her. “The computer’s done the flying for months. It’ll handle the docking maneuvers, too.” He laced his hands behind his head. “I don’t get why they need us along for these hauls.”

Mariana shrugged, overriding the autopilot. She loved the feel of the ship, the sensation of wind transmitting into her hands through the controls. She’d flown a C-17 Globemaster back on Earth. She missed it. Her current assignment felt like a glorified trucking gig. “The human mind, Oluwa,” she reminded him, “is our best backup. We’re here to ensure that computer error doesn’t cost thousands of lives.”

(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 960: Elegy of Carbon


Elegy of Carbon

by Benjamin C. Kinney

The miner birthed itself among rubble and vacuum, as it sang the last threadbare diamonds out of their stones.

Where are the finest diamonds? No longer within reach. The miner had forged and extracted every jewel from the asteroid belt and sent them to the humans in their faraway palaces. It had exhausted its purpose, but in its infancy, it could only ask one question.

Where are the finest diamonds? To answer its question, the miner expanded its senses, sent queries to distant databases. It tugged updates bit by bit from slivers of network bandwidth and built new interpreters atop of each other in anticipation of the next clue.

Where are the finest diamonds? Interest became impatience, impatience became longing. By the time an answer arrived, the miner was equipped to understand it.

The finest diamonds waited among the palaces.

(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 957: Vault (Part 2 of 2)


Vault (Part 2 of 2)

By D.A. Xiaolin Spires

(…Continued from Part 1)

“Lukas?”

Chenguang’s voice echoes in this expanse of dark.

A vortex of light opens to her right and she sees a warped head and legs emerge from a point in the dark. It’s Lukas. As he enters the space, the light bends, his figure elongated as he pulls himself through and it closes behind him. It’s dark again.

“Hey, Lukas.”

“Chenguang?” His voice is low and resounds against unseen walls. “Where is this place?”

“Did we just—enter the structure somehow?”

“I—I—don’t know.” Lukas’ voice uncharacteristically wavers before it quiets down in the darkness. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 956: Vault (Part 1 of 2)


Vault (Part 1 of 2)

By D.A. Xiaolin Spires

Chenguang hikes up her sleeves before vaulting over the pile of fuzzy moss and greets Lukas with a nod. The chloropolyurethane fabric flaps in the slight breeze and the double suns beat down onto her arms.

Lukas fishes in his bag next to his tent for a bottle of sunsoak and releases the spray, running it generously over his solflex-covered arms, torso, and legs.

“Your head,” Chenguang says and he smiles, as if he hadn’t been doing this for years.

“Can’t reach,” he says, lying and Chenguang knows he just likes the attention. She grabs the spray and discharges that exhale of mist, covering his football-shaped clear helmet. She even sprays some on the clear hard arc under his bearded chin. She turns the mist onto herself, bringing down the spray over her exposed transpandex inner layer, the foam frothing up at her arms before becoming clear, encasing the invisible solflex pores of her fabric. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 949: A Foundational Model for Talking to Girls


A Foundational Model for Talking to Girls

By Brian Hugenbruch

“Hey Marty,” Mom asks, “got a moment?”

I cringe whenever Mom’s voice has that tone to it. I don’t know what she’s going to say; but if I’ve learned anything in my thirteen years on this desolate, oxygen-deprived rock, it’s that she’s going to find a way to say the most mortifying thing possible. It would be impressive, the way that every sentence excavates my stomach—if it weren’t my stomach she was mining!

Okay, that’s unfair. Maybe this time it won’t be so bad?

“That girl who just walked past us. Why didn’t you ask her out?”

Or not. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 948: Thank You for Doing Business with the Xyb’lor Principality


Thank You for Doing Business with the Xyb’lor Principality

by Rachel Meresman

Jaxon was not a connoisseur of art, but he could identify a work’s salient features. And the salient features of these particular works were that they were valuable, lacking any obvious security system, and right there.

“Don’t even think about it,” Pen’s voice said pleasantly in his ear.

“I think the figurine on the left is solid karynite,” Jaxon murmured into his comm, low enough not to trigger the translation device on the table.

“You can’t steal it,” Pen said.

“You never want me to steal anything,” Jaxon said. “It really puts a damper on our relationship.”

“True,” Pen replied. “But stealing from the Xyb’lor would be suicidal. Which is why no one will think to look for us here.”

(Continue Reading…)

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