science-fiction

I made a discovery. It was cold enough to make my eyes water, and I found out that If I kept them almost closed, the moisture diffused the lights, so that everything - the Moon, the stars, the street lamp - seemed to have halos and points of scattered light around it. The snow-banks seemed to glitter like a sea of spun sugar, and all the stars were woven together by a lace of incandescence, so that I was walking through a Universe so wild, so wonderful that my heart nearly broke with its beauty."For years, I carried that time and place in mind. It's still there. But the thing is, the Universe didn't make it. I did. I saw it, but I saw it because I made myself see it. I took the stars, which are distant suns, and the night, which is the Earth's shadow, and the snow, which is water undergoing a state-change, and I took the tears in my eyes, and I made a wonderland. No one else has ever been able to see it. No one else has ever been able to go there. Not even I can ever return to it physically, it lies thirty-eight years in the past, in the eye-level perspective of a child, its stereoscopic accuracy based on the separation between the eyes of a child. In only one place does it actually exist. In my mind Elizabeth - in my life."But I will die, and where will it be, then?"Elizabeth looked up at him. "In mind mind a little? Along with the rest of you?"Hawks looked at her. He reached out and, bending forward as tenderly as a child receiving a snowflake to hold, gently enclosed her in his arms. "Elizabeth, Elizabeth," he said. "I never realized that. I never realized what you were letting me do.""I love you.

Is this neuro-bot really supposed to be her, this creature, this thing, compiled of the ghosts of human data, the replicas of their past?

When you read my stories, I want you to see the world through my eyes; as if I based my work on you. Come away with me, and I'll show you a world that you've never seen before or ever want to leave.

Sighing, he settled into his chair, watching the vision of space at his front. It was stoic, calm, and never ending__eadly, if you weren't careful.

His appearance projected danger and reinforced the common knowledge that one did not want to piss off a demon, especially this one.

Cale! Have you had a female in here?__alic laughed carelessly. __epends on when you're referring to.

At his booming voice, her eyes flew open. If he wasn't already on the ground, he would have fallen to his knees. Sebastian was instantly lost. The ship fell away and there was only her. The blue of her eyes was indescribable, so light they unabashedly pulled him in. No color imaginable compared. Her eyes turned pleading. For what? He didn't know. But at that moment he would have given it to her.

It wasn't till Sebastian began to stalk toward her that she recalled her situation. She was wet and half naked, alone in a room with a strong brutish male of unknown intentions.

She still thought Sebastian planned to leave her. She had no idea he was contemplating keeping her for

Space was a hostile environment that required a sharp and cunning mind over prestige any day. That, and a shit load of weapons.

You should stay and keep me company, so I don't get lonely.___ou don't seem like the type of guy who gets lonely.___s that a compliment or an insult?__nalia only shrugged.

Usually a quarrel between Cale and Sonya would amuse Sebastian, but today it barely registered. His constant attention was on Anya. She was laughing and enjoying herself with another male, and that bothered him more than it should.~Sebastian from Demon Possession

She hoped he could move on one day and find happiness. He had the luxury to try. She hoped he would su

When they would spar, Calic held nothing back, as if he possessed a deep rage clawing for release. He demonstrated a ferocity Sebastian had never seen the likes of. Sebastian had the same rage bubbling inside him. However, he was able to hone it differently by focusing on the survival of his crew

I shot the first planet this afternoon.

Without the dreamers who write science fiction and other imaginary material we'd still be sitting in caves ... if we weren't already extinct.

When I was small, I never wanted to step in puddles. Not because of any fear of drowned worms or wet stockings; I was by and large a grubby child, with a blissful disregard for filth of any kind.It was because I couldn't bring myself believe that that perfect smooth expanse was no more than I thin film of water over solid earth. I believed it was an opening into some fathomless space. Sometimes, seeing the tiny ripples caused by my approach, I thought the puddle impossibly deep, a bottomless sea in which the lazy coil of a tentacle and gleam of scale lay hidden, with the threat of huge bodies and sharp teeth adrift and silent in the far-down depths.And then, looking down into reflection, I would see my own round face and frizzled hair against a featureless blue sweep, and think instead that the puddle was the entrance to another sky. If I stepped in there, I would drop at once, and keep on falling, on and on, into blue space.The only time I would dare walk though a puddle was at twilight, when the evening stars came out. If I looked in the water and saw one lighted pinprick there, I could slash through unafraid--for if I should fall into the puddle and on into space, I could grab hold of the star as I passed, and be safe.Even now, when I see a puddle in my path, my mind half-halts--though my feet do not--then hurries on, with only the echo of the though left b

Science fiction is not about the freedom of imagination. It's about a free imagination pinched and howling in a vise that other people call real life.