Science Fiction

On Intelligentsor Day, Chapter Three
If Intelligentsor was formidable in two dimensions, he had nothing on Auntie Green’s very real three. Counting her elaborate iron-hued bouffant she was twice the height of anyone else there, all of whom by now were mimicking the stillest of the cardboard likenesses. Abaft the Mini-Flash matron’s stiff-starched emerald bosom, one fist characteristically closed and unclosed about the business-end of a carbon-shafted birch.
By Doc Sherwoodabout a month ago in Chapters
On Intelligentsor Day, Chapter Two
“You’ve got a nerve.” 4-H-N hadn’t meant to start on that point. But she’d seen him onstage as she and Mini-Flash Meteor snuck through the stands, and there had been the Drenthis feeling. It was as reliable as a gastric ulcer.
By Doc Sherwoodabout a month ago in Chapters
On Intelligentsor Day, Chapter One
The distress-signal device had worked. 4-H-N was safely home, while Alliance salvage-teams remained busy shipping equipment from Phoenix Prime’s lab to that of Professor Grindo, in hopes of determining what the former had been working on at Nebula Seven. Her large and loyal and surprisingly mobile security-lodge had gone to Grindotron too, as had her robotic replica of Petunia to undergo recharge and repair.
By Doc Sherwoodabout a month ago in Chapters
Noisy Running, Chapter Three
As the luminous boxlike forcefield-cage blinked out of existence, Phoenix was given reason to doubt everything the galaxy said about Moltron’s quickness. His slopping transformation to an innocuous slick made lightning-bolts look ponderous. It seemed however to be Phoenix’s day for brief impressions, because no sooner had she taken note of this than twisted nature white in tooth and claw was scrabbling at her throat.
By Doc Sherwoodabout a month ago in Chapters
Noisy Running, Chapter Two
It took more than a bumpy ride to deter Dylan’s faction. No sooner were dented doors still than they were thrown or kicked open, and the Alliance’s finest were beating feet towards the oblong of architecture shadowing these alleys. He and she both had calculated fuel reserves without consultation or even much recognition they were doing it, and their light-fingered friend had had every reason to aim where he’d done. He wasn’t going to leave Target Harbour without completing that operation first. They had time. Not much, but they had it.
By Doc Sherwoodabout a month ago in Chapters
Noisy Running, Chapter One
Dylan wasn’t one to sit around. A sweep of his arm and the Junkyard-Belts of Nebula Seven came alive, magenta-coloured swirls and streamers throwing the surrounding escarpments of scrap into the air and at each other. 4-H-N stumbled back agape as a boxlike distress-signal device clunked complete at her feet, by which time the corroded old chasses of two space-cars were kitted out with replacement parts and idling above the ground.
By Doc Sherwoodabout a month ago in Chapters
Search for a Sister, Chapter Three
Dylan and Phoenix landed the ship on an asteroid deep in the belt, and with 4-H-N struck out on foot along the rough road that wound its way to Scientooth’s old arena and lair. Hillsides of scrap loomed on either side, beneath nebula-stain and the cold glinting stars. 4-H-N was in a fresh uniform, and Phoenix perhaps was remembering the pitched battle last time they both traversed this route, for she in turn had not neglected to don her backpack.
By Doc Sherwoodabout a month ago in Chapters
Search for a Sister, Chapter Two. Top Story - December 2025.
4-H-N heard not a word about her secret mission around Headquarters over the following days, so had to conclude either Mini-Flash Phytolith hadn’t been listening in after all, or she’d misjudged him. She hoped it was the latter, as she wanted the pair of them to get on, even if he wasn’t going out of his way to make it easy for her.
By Doc Sherwoodabout a month ago in Chapters
Search for a Sister, Chapter One
Phoenix Neetkins looked a little like Jean-Michel Jarre at his comeback concert, only her garage-load of old keyboards and monitors charted a timespan measurable not in decades but millennia. This antiquated array of technological table-tops was laid out in a square, enclosing a space of comparable area to that of a good-sized conference-hall. At the centre of this stood a forcefield-cage, within which paced a chalk-white creature.
By Doc Sherwoodabout a month ago in Chapters
Who's the real Monster?
~ Armstrong's POV Already out of bed before my alarm clock could beep. It's 5:59 AM. Grunting as I start my morning warmup for the day. My body ain't what it used to be. Everything aches more than usual, doesn't help that I didn't get enough sleep last night. Getting dressed after a quick shower. Right as I was done lacing up my shoes an alarm blasted: ALERT! ALERT! INMATES RESTRICTIONS HAVE BEEN RELEASED! ALERT!
By Lucy Torralbaabout a month ago in Chapters
Brass Ring Chapter 8: The First Fight is Always the Hardest
Psyborg blasted away at the vault door of Ilsington Labs. While he had managed to knock out the office manager, the security guard had managed to get the door closed, initiating a time lock on the door. It was not opening up until the next day. He had bet his anger expressed through his arm laser would outlast the door. So far, his anger was winning. He would be through in another minute.
By Jamais Jochimabout a month ago in Chapters
Chapter 9: The Final Sermon (Farewell Hajj)
The Final Sermon (Farewell Hajj) In the year 632 CE, Prophet Muhammad ﷺ knew that his mission was coming to its completion. After more than twenty years of struggle, patience, guidance, and sacrifice, Islam had spread across Arabia. Tribes that once fought endlessly were now united by faith. Justice had replaced chaos, and mercy had replaced revenge.
By Wings of Time 2 months ago in Chapters