This issue features fiction from Argentina, Nigeria, China, Brazil, and Chile.
All good things must come to an end.
Now that our seventeenth issue has been published, I’m stepping down as editor-in-chief of Future SF, and the magazine will most likely go on hiatus unless another brave and foolhardy editor steps up to take over the considerable workload of running a magazine....
Red was the color of the land, but it was not the red they were used to, vibrant and iridescent, unraveling every shade of the spectrum: scarlet and crimson, carmine and vermilion, garnet, coral, maroon. It was magma, the blood of mammals, the fruits and the flowers, the crystals that formed in caves....
Item One: Glaciator.
This is one of my least favorite inventions, and that’s only because the device is so fickle. At first I thought it was pretty cool, being able to design the coolant, ignition and explosion mechanisms as interlinked chambers contained within a fist-sized steel sphere....
The day I turned ninety-eight, I booked a journey in one of those fancy Afterlife ships to leave Earth and life for good.
Fifteen days later, I was in a hangar decked out with orchids and a lilac fifteen-hundred-foot-long spaceship with drawings of lilies and smiling planets on its hull....
The New Year was coming, and my calendar was full of social engagements. A good number of friends, more than usual, had invited me out to dinner that year, many of them the county’s most celebrated fiction writers, essayists, and poets....
Wake.
Little input, bad bandwidth.
Low-res image, blue planet, white clouds.
Insufficient resources to boot full OS.
Eight to the minus sixty-fourth speed.
Incoming transmission attempted download.
No space.
Watchdog process, wake when okay.
Power down.
Wake up.
Better than first time, not enough yet....
This issue features fiction from Argentina, Nigeria, China, Brazil, and Chile.
Table of contents
All good things must come to an end.
Now that our seventeenth issue has been published, I’m stepping down as editor-in-chief of Future SF, and the magazine will most likely go on hiatus unless another brave and foolhardy editor steps up to take over the considerable workload of running a magazine....
Red was the color of the land, but it was not the red they were used to, vibrant and iridescent, unraveling every shade of the spectrum: scarlet and crimson, carmine and vermilion, garnet, coral, maroon. It was magma, the blood of mammals, the fruits and the flowers, the crystals that formed in caves....
Item One: Glaciator.
This is one of my least favorite inventions, and that’s only because the device is so fickle. At first I thought it was pretty cool, being able to design the coolant, ignition and explosion mechanisms as interlinked chambers contained within a fist-sized steel sphere....
The day I turned ninety-eight, I booked a journey in one of those fancy Afterlife ships to leave Earth and life for good.
Fifteen days later, I was in a hangar decked out with orchids and a lilac fifteen-hundred-foot-long spaceship with drawings of lilies and smiling planets on its hull....
The New Year was coming, and my calendar was full of social engagements. A good number of friends, more than usual, had invited me out to dinner that year, many of them the county’s most celebrated fiction writers, essayists, and poets....
Wake.
Little input, bad bandwidth.
Low-res image, blue planet, white clouds.
Insufficient resources to boot full OS.
Eight to the minus sixty-fourth speed.
Incoming transmission attempted download.
No space.
Watchdog process, wake when okay.
Power down.
Wake up.
Better than first time, not enough yet....
Purchase this issue
Discover the annual anthology series of humorous science fiction and fantasy!
