Major Strom brought his craft into low orbit and rolled into entry attitude. He loved the feel of the controller in his hands. He squeezed it firmly, took a deep breath, and fired the reverse thrusters to begin his descent.
Although his primary objective was reconnaissance, he was asked “to initially assess the native inhabitants and draw preliminary conclusions about their developmental capacity.” In other words, if he saw anything notable he should call it to the attention of High Command. In actual fact, there was little they had not already seen from the mother-ship orbiting high above. He was basically a decoy to draw fire from any hidden weaponry the inhabitants might have. He knew it, and High Command knew it, and this gave him an unspoken carte blanche to do pretty much whatever he wanted.
The master craftsman dipped his brush into the ink and let its tip touch the surface of the paper.
“Mass manufacturing can also create incredible, one-of-a-kind paint brushes,” he mumbled. “No, rather, mass producing companies are the ones creating most masterpieces,” he lowered his voice and added in haste.
Read more: The First Artifact to Reach the End of the Universe
“A knob by any other name still requires a hand to work it.”
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“February is a month never spoken about on Planet Hy Man,” I said to Bunnie.
Bunnie, a master of multitasking, was spring cleaning and listening, while Mex was sitting on the couch, feet up, trying to get to grips with the Radio Times.
Max hammered his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the music. If there was a better song in the world than Highway to Hell, he was yet to hear it. He turned up the radio volume almost blasting AC/DC through the roof, then with adrenaline pumping through his veins, he pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator, exceeding the speed limit by forty kilometres in seconds flat. The road ahead was one long stretch, why take it easy?
A woman walks into a bar, sits down, adjusts her little black dress, and orders a mistletoe margarita.
A man at the end of the bar raises his neat tumbler, filled to the brim with translucent single malt. He confesses that he spent much of his youth in Japanese internment camps and runs through a list of recent troop movements in various parts of the adjoining territories.
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Coming In Issue 270
333 Years
By Susan Cornford
Evan
By Ian Breen
Golf for Beginners
By Joanna Galbraith
HSC (Hancer School Certification)
By Sue Oliver
Incident at the Yarralumla Shops
By Wes Parish
Karen's Secret Story
By Gillian Polack
Luck - A Matter of Perspective
By Brian Catto
Maelstrom
By Kevin J. Phyland
Name Please
By Colin Howe
Snuggles
By Ashley Noel
The Birthday Party
By Chris Karageorge
The Box
By James Patrik
Noisy Winds
By Binta Ohtaki - translated by Toshiya Kamei
The Hive
By Botond Teklesz
The Senate Inquiry
By Len Baglow
Worksite Stories
by S. F. Lowe
Speculative Fiction
Downside-Up
ISSN 1442-0686
Online Since Feb 1998
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