Dark Horizons and Cybergothic
I can't really determine if this is "official" yet or not, but it looks like Dark Horizons, a dark science fiction anthology from Elder Signs Press, is available now on Amazon. The release date is still listed as November 15, but apparently you can order copies now. My short story, "A Small Plot of Land" is featured in this anthology.
Here's a short sample of the story:
Tarkin knew something was wrong when the sunlight hitting the northwest quadrant started to slither. The light strangled a few rows’ worth of the protein bulbs he planted a few weeks back. They sprouted prematurely, loosing prismatic spores in a puff of pollenated dust that settled upon the rest of the crop. Within a day, the spores sapped the color from everything they touched, turning most of the quadrant into a mottled, grey and black waste. The infection was probably already in the root system, leeching further nutrition from the soil. It would have to come up. All of it. Every bulb, every root, every trace of cultivation. The entire quadrant needed to be cordoned off from its neighbors and decontaminated. Weeks of tilling, planting, and irrigation would be lost, all on account of a blown fuse. “Fuck.” Tarkin managed to reroute the energy flow on the northwest generator to get the filtration shields back to full strength, but the workaround put a lot of strain on the primary fusion couplings. The power core would be running hot until he either replaced the damaged fuse or the microreactor melted down and vaporized everything in a two-mile radius. He probably had little over a week. Two if he was lucky. Tarkin kept the warpsuit on until he reached the house. Although he’d placed containment field stakes around the infected area, he worried that something else might have slipped through the perimeter along with the diseased light. Only the generator’s spectrometer shielding appeared to have failed, but he thought it best to not take any chances. His wife wouldn’t take the news well. Nayla had been counting on a new crop of protein bulbs to pay for the parts she needed to fix the crawler’s warpfield generator. The setback would doom them to at least another year or two of isolation, limited to contact with only the few meager settlements within walking distance. Another year without children.
Pick up a copy of Dark Horizons for the full story!
In other news, I recently released a new Morana's Breath album entitled Cybergothic. Inspired by my longtime fascination with cyberpunk fiction, the album works hard to put a distinctive spin on the classic dystopian future of mirrorshades, cyberspace, and urban sprawl. The album is available now on BandCamp, along with previous Morana's Breath releases.
Here's a short sample of the story:
Tarkin knew something was wrong when the sunlight hitting the northwest quadrant started to slither. The light strangled a few rows’ worth of the protein bulbs he planted a few weeks back. They sprouted prematurely, loosing prismatic spores in a puff of pollenated dust that settled upon the rest of the crop. Within a day, the spores sapped the color from everything they touched, turning most of the quadrant into a mottled, grey and black waste. The infection was probably already in the root system, leeching further nutrition from the soil. It would have to come up. All of it. Every bulb, every root, every trace of cultivation. The entire quadrant needed to be cordoned off from its neighbors and decontaminated. Weeks of tilling, planting, and irrigation would be lost, all on account of a blown fuse. “Fuck.” Tarkin managed to reroute the energy flow on the northwest generator to get the filtration shields back to full strength, but the workaround put a lot of strain on the primary fusion couplings. The power core would be running hot until he either replaced the damaged fuse or the microreactor melted down and vaporized everything in a two-mile radius. He probably had little over a week. Two if he was lucky. Tarkin kept the warpsuit on until he reached the house. Although he’d placed containment field stakes around the infected area, he worried that something else might have slipped through the perimeter along with the diseased light. Only the generator’s spectrometer shielding appeared to have failed, but he thought it best to not take any chances. His wife wouldn’t take the news well. Nayla had been counting on a new crop of protein bulbs to pay for the parts she needed to fix the crawler’s warpfield generator. The setback would doom them to at least another year or two of isolation, limited to contact with only the few meager settlements within walking distance. Another year without children.
Pick up a copy of Dark Horizons for the full story!
In other news, I recently released a new Morana's Breath album entitled Cybergothic. Inspired by my longtime fascination with cyberpunk fiction, the album works hard to put a distinctive spin on the classic dystopian future of mirrorshades, cyberspace, and urban sprawl. The album is available now on BandCamp, along with previous Morana's Breath releases.
Published on November 01, 2016 17:26
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