#Scifi Stories

[aliens-and-shiz]

Master post 7

Book 1 in entirety.

Parts 1-72

Part 73

Epilogue

[theindexproject]

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[dnschmidt]

The Hypothetical Woman - A Science Fiction Story

The physics building was surrounded by protesters. They were waving signs and shouting about researchers opening doors to parallel worlds. Silly conspiracy theories. Next they would say the moon landing had to be faked because of all the space ghosts...

The Hypothetical Woman - A Science Fiction Story

[litrpgburrito]

Ruby

Chapter 1: Steel and Dreams

The neon glow of Seattle's underbelly cast long shadows as Ruby navigated the labyrinthine alleyways. At 18, she was a seasoned veteran of the city's unforgiving streets, her nimble frame and preternatural agility a constant advantage. Her toned arms pumped rhythmically, propelling her forward in a free-running ballet honed by years of evading trouble.

Tonight's pursuers were a particularly nasty bunch – enforcers for the notorious Steel Dragons. The clang of their boots echoed off the grimy brick walls as they rounded the corner, their augmented eyes glowing an ominous red. Ruby cursed under her breath. This wasn't a game of tag she was likely to win.

With a burst of adrenaline, she launched herself towards the waterfront, the rusted skeletons of abandoned warehouses looming ahead. She spotted a half-shattered window and with a practiced move, vaulted through the opening, tumbling onto a dust-covered concrete floor. Groaning, she picked herself up, heart hammering against her ribs.

The warehouse was a desolate tomb, filled with the detritus of a forgotten era. As Ruby's eyes adjusted to the gloom, a glint of metal caught her attention. Half-buried in a pile of crates lay a worn hilt, its craftsmanship exquisite despite the ravages of time. An inexplicable allure drew her towards it. Perhaps it was the faint inscription that shimmered on the pommel, or the intricate carvings that whispered of a bygone age. Whatever it was, Ruby knew she couldn't leave it behind.

Slipping the hilt into her bag, she made her way towards a shadowy exit, unaware that her life had irrevocably changed. The dreams that night were vivid and unsettling, filled with flickering images of forgotten battles and whispered promises of power. The hilt pulsed with a faint warmth against her chest, a silent heartbeat echoing the rhythm of her dreams.

The following days were a blur of close calls and frantic escapes. News of the artifact spread like wildfire through the city's underbelly, and Ruby found herself targeted by both the Steel Dragons and a shadowy government agency known only as Sire Corp. It was during a desperate escape from a Sire Corp squad that Ruby stumbled upon a hidden library, its shelves groaning with ancient books.

Driven by an instinct she couldn't explain, she reached for a leather-bound tome filled with tales of forgotten magic. As her fingers brushed the worn pages, a jolt of energy surged through the hilt, causing it to emit a faint golden glow. In that moment, Ruby understood. She wasn't just an adept scavenger; she was an artifact guardian, the last line of defense against those who sought to exploit the power of the past for their own gain.

The weight of this newfound responsibility settled heavily upon her. Yet, amidst the fear, a spark of defiance ignited within her. The dream magic pulsed within the hilt, a promise of power waiting to be unleashed. Ruby, the girl who had always run from trouble, now had a reason to fight. The hunt for the remaining artifacts had begun.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Space Ice

Alien: By the gods……what did you do?

Human: What do you mean?

Alien: Luminal III was a desert world, and you’ve been on the world for half a century and now it’s a lush planet.

Alien: What did you do?

Human: Simple.

Human: Space ice.

Alien: What?

Human: Space ice.

Alien: I….I still don’t follow.

Human: Well it’s a desert world with almost no water, so we went out and got some.

Alien: You got some….in space ice?

Human: Well yeah.

Human: There are literal hundreds of thousands of chunks of frozen ice just floating in asteroid belts or orbiting planets in rings.

Human: So we sent a couple dozen harvester ships to grab them and then bring them back to the planet.

Alien: ………………..

Alien: Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?

Human: What do you mean?

Alien: Do you have any idea what was in that ice?

Alien: Possibly frozen organisms or diseases that are in those chunks of ice.

Human: Yeah we knew all about that.

Human: We’ve watched “The Thing” enough times to know what could be frozen inside random blocks of ice.

Human: We had each block scanned and detoxed before introducing it to the planet’s surface.

Human: By the end of twenty years into the operation enough water had been distributed that several large underground lakes were filled to capacity.

Human: Water on the surface continued to evaporate and condense into clouds causing temperatures to slowly decrease. This coupled with the underground water supplies resulted in land masses becoming more temperate and damp.

Alien: Thank you for explaining basic science class processes to the species that mastered inter-dimensional travel.  

Human: Well if you’re so god-damn smart why didn’t you think of this?

Alien: *Opens mouth to counter but stops

Human: You’ve encountered at least a hundred desert worlds and never thought, “Hey, maybe if I add water things will get better?”

Alien: *Stares in angry silence.

Human: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Human: Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go make a second amazon rainforest called “Amazon+”.

Alien: But why?

Human: For shits and giggles mostly at this point.

[waymond-wang]

I was a 1995 International Players Ball "Pimp of the Year." Show me some motherfucking respect!

JAMIE FOXX as SLICK CHARLES in THEY CLONED TYRONE (2023) dir. Juel Taylor

[weirdlookindog]

"With a great deal of hilarity, the bodies were piled into the blazing bonfire"

Edmund Emshwiller (1925-1990) - Illustration for Paul W. Fairman's 'Let's Have a Little Revenge'

(Fantastic Adventures Vol.14 #5, May, 1952)

[v-is-for-vore]

“They say that bumblebees shouldn’t be able…to fly”

- I love you AM. Sometimes.

[thefugitivesaint]

Michael Whelan, ''Amazing Stories'', Vol. 56, #3, 1982

[scipunk]

Battle Angel Alita (1993)

[forgottenthreads]

Alien Ambassador: so I've just been to Sol, met with the Humans, and we have a problem.

Alien politician: what sort of problem?

Ambassador: remember a while back we ran into that insectoid species?

Politician: yeah there were like what 60 million of them in delta P right, such a headache trying to negotiate voting rights for them, their population was out of control.... An order of magnitude more than any other race we've encountered, Wait there's not 60 million humans right?

Ambassador: um no... There's not 60 million humans

Politician: thank the stars, those humans are a mess, I heard what they did to their system, global warming, nuclear war, then Mars... Just crazy...

Ambassador: they passed 60 Million humans before the nuclear war, in fact they passed 600 Million humans before their nuclear war.... They had 6 Billion when their global warming was first identified

Politician: oh.... Oh no...

Ambassador: the insectoids had one mother laying eggs, about half the humans are mothers, they can double in population every 2-3 years if they want, though typically they double every 30 to 50 years

Politician: so that's ...

Ambassador: they're coming up on a trillion

Politician: ... A problem. Wait how does even two planets support that many of them?

Ambassador: well they don't just live on Earth, Luna, Venus and Mars anymore, someone had the idea to turn space debris into 'space stations' and farmland... They predict their system can support 10,000x the population before running out of easily accessible materials.

Politician: ... Well the fecal matter is certainly going to hit the circulation unit when the news gets out... They have no self control... Wait a second wasn't Venus that Acid world... What the... How are they living there?

Ambassador: I figured it was better not to ask.

Politician: I think I'd better get to work, please write up a full report for .... Everyone .... everyone will want to know... *Sigh* it's gonna be a long Decade.

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[dnschmidt]

Electric Meat - Science fiction short story

Amanda stared at the pamphlet for Imitor. With this new cloning service and Andrew’s money, they could buy endless replacement organs and live together forever. What a horror.

(Short science fiction story)

[litrpgburrito]

Sakura Synthetica

In the heart of Neo-Tokyo's botanical gardens, amidst the fusion of nature and neon, stood a cherry blossom tree unlike any other. It was known as Sakura Synthetica, a marvel of magic and technology. Its trunk, a tapestry of glowing cybernetic veins, pulsed with a soft light that guided the magic drawn from the earth up to the angelic petals.

Under the light of the full moon, the tree performed its most miraculous feat. A young woman emerged from the blossoms, her skin adorned with patterns mirroring the tree's luminescent veins. She was named Hana, born of Sakura Synthetica, and destined to bridge the gap between the organic and the synthetic.

**Chapter 1: Awakening**

Hana opened her eyes for the first time, taking in the world with a sense of wonder. The city's skyline was a cascade of holographic billboards and levitating cars, a stark contrast to the serene garden that cradled her birth. She felt the magic within her, a warm current that ebbed and flowed with her breath.

As she stepped forward, the cybernetic veins on her body illuminated, reacting to her movements. She discovered she could manipulate the elements, command the wind, and even converse with the city's AI. Yet, with great power came a profound solitude. Hana was unique, a singular being in a world that prized conformity.

**Chapter 2: The Guardian of the Garden**

Hana's existence was not without purpose. Sakura Synthetica had chosen her as its guardian, a protector of the balance between the natural and the artificial. She spent her days tending to the garden, using her abilities to nurture the plants and repair the technological wonders that kept them thriving.

But her nights were spent exploring the city, learning its secrets, and understanding her place within it. She encountered others like her, beings of magic and machinery, but none shared her origin or her connection to the tree that gave her life.

**Chapter 3: The Synthesis**

As Hana grew in power and wisdom, she began to see the fractures in the world around her. The divide between the organic and the synthetic was growing, with fear and misunderstanding on both sides. Hana knew she was the key to healing this rift, to showing that both could coexist in harmony.

With the support of her newfound allies, Hana embarked on a quest to unite the city. She demonstrated the beauty of synthesis, how technology could enhance nature and how magic could breathe life into machines. Her efforts culminated in a grand event at the botanical gardens, where Sakura Synthetica bloomed in full, casting a spell of unity over all who witnessed it.

**Epilogue: The Blossoming Future**

Hana's story became a legend, a tale of harmony and balance that inspired generations. The cherry blossom tree continued to thrive, a symbol of the potential for peace between all forms of life. And Hana, the daughter of Sakura Synthetica, watched over it all, her heart as full as the blossoms that gave her life.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: They sing going to war

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

While serving alongside the human forces during the Torus Campaign I learned much of their strange culture.

Their need to stack foods in elaborate combinations which they call a “Sandwich”, their constant need to play “The Game” without ever explaining what it is unless to tell you that you have lost it, and even their obsession with petting anything within arm’s reach with an almost religious like dedication; but the strangest custom I only witnessed during the final stages of the war.

We had just deployed over the world of Obidon III and were launching a joint ground assault with the human forces. Enemy resistance was expected to be heavy and many would not survive the drop, but command believed that if enough forces reached the surface of the planet they could establish a beachhead and allow the rest of the contingent to be brought in.

During the decent to the planet all I could do was keep my eyes closed and hope beyond hope that we would survive. I was so lost in this trance like state that my friend Septem had to physically smack me on the helmet to get my attention and tell me to turn my radio channel to frequency 13.

I was confused at first since that frequency was being used for our human allies but he insisted that I would not believe what they were doing. So I reset my radio in my helmet to frequency and what I heard was something I had never expected on a battlefield.

They were singing.

The frequency was chalk full of voices in such volume that I had to turn down the volume but it seemed like every single human that was part of the attach was joining in the song. My translator unit was trying to keep up but the sheer intensity of the humans singing was causing it to drop in and out, picking up every other word.

I wanted to listen closer to them but the enemy flak began pounding the outside of our dropship. Each detonation sent the ship rattling side to side violently. I had just retightened my straps when a shell burst just beneath us sending a shockwave through the ship so strong it sent several of my comrades flying from their seats into the opposite wall. They hit the wall hard and did not get back up when their bodies collapsed to the ground.

All I could think about was how this was the moment I was going to die. This was the moment my existence in this universe comes to its conclusion and I return to the dust and atoms of the cosmos. And as I tuned myself to this reality all I could hear were the humans still singing over the radio.

They must have been going through the same amount of enemy fire as he was and yet still they somehow were still able to sing as if nothing was wrong with the world. I got so focused on their singing that I forgot about my worries for such a time that I was startled when the dropship landed with a loud thud against the planet’s surface and the boarding ramp lowered.

The following battle was a grueling six hour run and gun with the enemy as we tried to carve out a safe LZ for reinforcements. I got separated from my unit on more than one occasion and wandered into the human designated areas in the confusion.

To my utter surprise the humans were still singing.

Clad in their blue and gold armor, they broadcasted their voices from their helmet speakers as they advanced street by bloody street. One of them took shelter with me for a time as we prepared to rush a fortified courtyard which housed heavy anti air emplacement. I nodded a greeting to the human who replied in kind, yet their voice never ceased in song. I saw them rush around the corner and take several heavy rounds to their chest, but the shells ricocheted off the armor leaving only scratches on the paint.

I watched in disbelief as this wild singing human leaped over the barricade and slapped a detonation charge on the anti-air weapon before leaping back as it exploded the weapon. They stood in the smoldering flames to take a moment to catch their breath when a sniper’s round from down the street struck them in the head and blew out a large portion of their cranium. It was the first time during the entire battle I had seen a human die but I did not have long to contemplate it as the rest of the humans charged past, still singing, in the direction of the snipers shot.

Another hour of combat and the landing site was finally secured and reinforcements were brought in to take our positions. What was left of the initial landing force were sent back to orbit and recover and regroup from their losses. Out of my people’s forces I was one of twenty soldiers to have survived. I imagined the humans had lost equally as many until the pilot remarked that additional shuttles had been dispatched to carry their force back up. It seemed that despite the intensity of the fighting only three of their warriors had fallen in battle; one of them including the warrior I had watched fall.

I was beyond myself.

These reckless warriors had somehow survived one of the most intense battles the campaign had seen and only lost three of their number.

Once back on the ship the first chance I could I sought them out for an explanation. They were quartered in the lower reaches of the ship, isolated from the other contingents onboard.

Outside their area were two guards still in full armor that initially would not let me through until one of them recognized me from the fighting in the city. I was then led inside and found many of the humans feasting and laughing. Two long rows of tables had been setup facing each other; between them were several fires each with a different animal being roasted over them. At the end of the rows stood three large pyres of wood which held three bodies atop each of them.

As I passed through the humans many ceased their laughter and looked at me, their clouded eyes with suspicion. We made it half way through the throngs when a giant of a human stepped forward and blocked our path. They demanded to know why I had been let it in; going even further to say they will throw me out personally if the answer was not good. The guard who had recognized me said I had witnessed the last moments of one of the fallen and would speak of their deeds. There was a long pause as the large human glared at me, his eyes as cold as the crescent moon of my homeworld.

The human finally relented and let out a loud boastful laugh, clapping me on my shoulders and welcoming me to the feast. Those gathered around cheered and similarly welcomed me now as the ceremony proceeded once more. I could barely say anything as I was seemingly pulled into the celebration. I drank, I ate, I laughed, I even boasted of my own achievements during the battle.

At the height of the feast I was called forward to speak of the final moments of the human soldier I watched die. I learned their name had been Moris Yu, and had served in the human contingent since the beginning of the campaign. I spoke of his final moments, of how he charged the enemy alone and had single handedly destroyed their war machine. I spoke of the snipers bullet laying him low to which all the gathered humans spoke as one “To Odin’s hall he flies.”

With that pyres were set on fire and the bodies slowly turned to ash. I imagine it had some significant ritualistic meaning in human culture but it was beyond me.

After the funeral I asked one of the soldiers the question I had come to them with.

“Why do you sing in battle?”

The human took a long huff from a wooden pipe and blew a cloud of smoke before answering.

“Long ago, my people were raiders and conquerors of the sea.” They began, “Our gods watched over us and should we prove worthy we would be sent to them to join them in their halls and fight alongside them for eternity.”

“There was one warband led by a giant of a man called Osmond Frig. He loved song just as much as he loved fighting, so he made his warriors sing during every fight as it made him happy.”

“They agreed to such silliness?” I asked, to which the human grinned.

“They did after he felled the first three men who laughed at him with a single blow from his axe.” They finished before continuing with their story.

“What was truly surprising was not the sight of these warriors singing, but rather the fact that they were rather good at it. It was said they could make the Valkyries themselves shed a single tear with their songs.”

“Eventually one of the gods, Bragi, noticed Osmond’s warband and took a liking to them. Much like the Valkyries he too was moved by their song and decided to reward them with his patronage. He used ancient magic and made it so as long as the warriors sung they would be impervious to harm of all kinds.”

“So the warband grew in fame and glory as they went conquest to conquest, emerging from battles against impossible odds with nay a scratch on them. First across the northern seas, then across the continent of Europe, and then soon the entire world knew of Osmond; which is when they finally drew the attention of the king of the gods, Odin.”

“Odin watched these powerful warriors and wanted them in his hall for the eternal battle, yet despite every challenge they faced they emerged victorious. No matter what enemy Odin placed in their path or scheme he unleashed on them they refused to fall. Odin knew of Bragi’s patronage and tortured the god to reveal his secret and after seven days and seven nights Bragi told Odin of the spell he had cast and how it could not be undone.”

“But that was all Odin needed to secure his warriors.” The human said with a devil’s grin.

“During the midst of the most recent battle Odin took the form of a mighty warrior and stalked the fields for his prey. He waited for each warrior to catch their breath and cease their song before striking and slaying them, one by one. By day’s end only Osmond remained to fight Odin and though he sang long into the night he too eventually gasped for air and was slain.”

“So that is why you sing?” I asked the human. ‘Because you believe your gods will protect you?”

The human chuckled and nodded to the three pyres. “Did you not say that Moris was only slain after he ceased singing?”

I wanted to counter him with some logic, some reason grounded in reality, but I could not. I left that human area with a profound new perspective of myself in the grand scheme of the universe.

The next time I was in a combat drop my comrades laughed when I began singing. I wasn’t sure if it was good or not, but I hoped that in some way the human god would at least find me amusing and let me live another day.

[whereserpentswalk]

People don't realize how liminal it is to be a time traveler. How you don't ever really feel like you're in the time you are. Even when you're in your own time, everything is off, your coat was something you bought in interwar France, the book you're reading on the train is from a bookstore you had to visit in Victorian London, even your necklace was given to you by a Neolithic shaman, from a culture the rest of the world can never know. You find yourself acting strange even when in the present, much less in the past you have to work in.

You remember meeting a eunuch in 10th century China, and having him be one of the only people smart and observant enough to realize you were from a diffrent time. You could talk honestly with him, though still you couldn't reveal too much about your time. And it was still so strange hearing him talk casually about work and mention plotting assassinations. You're not allowed to but you still visit him sometimes.

You remember that the few times you were allowed to tell someone everything it was tragic. You knew a young woman who lived in Pompeii, who you had gotten close to, a few days before she would inevitably die. On your last day there you looked into her eyes, knowing soon they'd be stone and ash, that the beauty of her hair would be washed away by burning magma. And you hugged her, and told her that you wanted her to be safe, and told her she was wonderful and that you wanted her to be comfortable and happy. And you let her tongue know the joy of 21st century chocolate, and her eyes see the beauty of animation, knowing she deserved to have those joys, knowing it wouldn't matter soon. And you hugged her the last time, and told her she deserved happiness. And when you left without taking her it was like you were killing her yourself.

You want to take home everyone you're attached to. There's a college student you befriended in eighteen fifties Boston. And you can't help but see him try to solve problems you know humanity is centuries away from solving. And you just want to tell him. And it's not just that, the way he talked about the books and plays he likes, his sense of humor. There's so many people you want him to meet.

You feel the same way about a young woman you met on a viking age longship. She tells stories to her fellow warriors and traders, stories that will never fully get written down, stories that she tells so uniquely and so well. She has so many great ideas. You want so dearly to take her to somewhere she can share her stories, or where she can take classes with other writers, where she can be somewhere safe instead of being out at sea. She'll talk about wanting to be able to do something, or meet people, and you know you're so close to being able to take her, but you never can, unless she accidently finds out way too much then you can't.

You remember the longship that you met that young storyteller on. You were there before, two years ago for you, ten years later for the people on it. The young woman who told you stories wasn't there ten years later, you had been told why then but you only realize now, her uncle, who ran the ship, had been one of the first people to convert to Christianity in his nation. He killed her, either for not converting or for sleeping with women, you're not sure, but he killed her, and bragged about it when you met him ten years later.

You talk to the storyteller on the longship, ask her about the myths you're there to ask her about, the myths that she loves to tell. You look into her eyes knowing it's probably less then a year until her uncle takes her life. You ask her if you think that those who die of murder go to Valhalla. She tells you she hopes not, she doesn't see Valhalla as a gift but as a duty, she hopes for herself to go to Hel, where she wouldn't have to fight anymore. You slip and admit you're talking about her, telling her that you hope that's where she goes when she's killed. You hope to yourself you'll be forced to take her to the twenty first century, you're tempted even to make it worse, you want to have ruined her enough to be able to save her.