Jeremy McLain’s Comments (group member since Nov 24, 2015)

Jeremy McLain’s comments from the Science Fiction Microstory Contest group.

Planet X:

Walker looked at the old door. It looked ancient. She had landed on this planet a year ago.

“What is in here?” she pondered.

Cutter caught up to her out of breath. “How can you breathe so easily here?” He asked still amazed at her stamina in such a thin atmosphere. They were in the mountains surrounded by trees.

“It’s called ‘exercise’ maybe give it a try.” He made a smirk back at her.
“Get the torch. Looks like this door is pretty solid. Only reason for such a thick door is something valuable is behind it.” She kicked it and a loud gong echoed.
“Well, valuable to whoever these people were, maybe not to us.”

They called their company Planet X Archeology Inc. But truth be told they were really scavengers, salvagers, and treasure hunters. There were thousands of planets in the sector but only a handful had active civilizations while most were long since dead. Many had killed themselves off through their own stupidity. They inevitably reached a point where they were smart enough to harness the atom but not wise enough to wield it along with many other technologies. Nuclear, AI, quantum, biotech, others. Any one could get out of hand and get the best of them. But they were smart enough to make weapons. They were always doing that. Advanced alien weapons always were of interest to collectors. And some could get good premium.

Cutter came back with the blowtorch and set it up to automatically cut a hole through it big enough for Walker and Cutter to climb through to the other side.

Walker climbed through and found a dark corridor. Cutter quickly followed. Walker deployed a lantern drone so they could see down the corridor.

Their expedition had found some interesting artifacts thus far, but their investors were getting nervous that this planet would not pan out. They had only a few more months before the investors would pull the plug on this planet’s survey.

Walker scanned some signs. Walker had trained the neural AI on this planet’s dominant written languages and could translate signage above the doors adjoining the corridor.

“J5 Strategic Planning Directorate” she sounded out slowly.
“Appears to be where they planned strategy, might be promising” she added.

A survey probe intercepted one of the many satellites in orbit. It had led them here.

They entered the room and found rows of desks and screens covered in dust.
Cutter stated “I’ve been studying their computation machines and can scan one of these here” he took a scanning probe placed it onto a computer on one of the desks. “This civilization used relatively basic encryption, I only had to use the level 1 quantum solver to decrypt it.”

They looked at the output of the scanner.
Walker reflected “hmmm, something called ‘powapoynt’ is everywhere in this.”
“Maybe a powerful weapon?” Cutter replied optimistically.
“Yeah, maybe also what destroyed them, if I had to guess” Walker hypothesized.

“Let’s go see what we can find in the other rooms” She continued.

They followed the corridor and passed under a large support bulkhead.
“Let’s look in here” as Walker sounded the sign out “NORAD Headquarters”.

Congrats ! Good story

Thank you! I’ve had idea for ‘utility bill from the future’ for awhile so saw chance to use it.
I’ll get to reading your stories now.

Happy Twosday everyone!

It’s been awhile but I got one in this month.

Got Bills to Pay:

“How are we gonna afford this?!” Katie cried into the viewscreen. She trembled, holding the latest bill from the a-gravity company. “Jim, you know we can’t lower our G-hours, or the kids will have problems. The doctor already said Sadie’s bones aren’t developed enough.” She didn’t want their unit moved out to the half-G ring, or God forbid, the 0.1G ring.

Jim grumbled but then feigned some hope “They are looking for more drivers to work some extra He3 hauls. Helium-3 prices are high right now so they are looking to pull it out of the ground as fast as they can.”

“Can’t we do something else Jim? It’s dangerous now, I heard the pirates are at it again.” Katie said.

Jim was a contract driver on the cislunar transfer routes. Regolith, water-ice, He3, products from E2M or M2E, he had driven it. Lately, work has gotten more dangerous. The corridors were more crowded with traffic than when he had started 15 years prior. More chances of mishaps, more pirates, alliances and their squabbles over control of this or that piece of rock. He and Katie had lived on Artemis 5 for the last 6 years. Artemis 5 was a large lunar space station that also featured artificial gravity created by the station’s spin. A-gravity was a huge selling point, but came with a hefty utility bill every month. He thought about his 3 kids. ‘At least we got a stipend from Earth for each of them’ he thought. The stipend was to encourage colonization. But growing costs were outstripping even that.

“Katie I’ll talk to the ice authority to see if they have some short and easy ice runs, okay?”

“Ok, I’ll see if I can get some extra shifts at the med bay.” Katie replied, who worked as a technician fixing the scientific and medical equipment around the station. She always complained that she had a PhD in engineering, yet was essentially a janitor in space. Jim had a degree in orbital mechanics, yet was a ‘truck driver’ in space. They got paid huge amounts of money by Earth standards but lived hand-to-mouth by space standards. Space is weird like that. ‘But the views were spectacular’, Katie thought wistfully. She had always been a space nerd.

‘Why, oh, why didn’t I listen to my wife?’ Jim whispered to himself. The pirate was gaining on him. This captain apparently knew what he was doing. The last encounter he had, the pirate must have been a novice as Jim easily outmaneuvered him. This time, he was not so lucky. He tried several of the standard maneuvers listed in the owner’s manual, amusingly in the Chapter labeled Pirates. No Joy.

He saw a hail signal coming in. He punched the open comms button and listened.

“Hello captain, requesting to dock, if you be so kind. The standard terms apply. If you agree, please send your code granting dock privilege.”

‘sheesh’ he wondered to himself if these Pirates had gone to business school.

“Hold on. I will need to consult my consignee first.” Jim replied.

“As you wish. You have 5 minutes.” Replied the pirate captain.

Jim ran a few simulations. He knew that most of the time, pirates had less fuel aboard as they tended to keep close to one area. “I guess I’ll go the long way” he said as he punched the throttle as his ship turned.

“Hey Captain, please stop or we will engage with our laser cannon!” the pirate shouted as Jim’s ship sprang to life and rocketed away. Jim called his bluff as he also knew most pirate ships didn’t have working weapons at any given time, due to lack of parts or repair. The pirate pursued for a half hour but broke off. “Yep, not enough fuel my friend.” Jim muttered.

His fuel meter read at 1% as he docked to the Earth-side space station. “Whew!” he sighed with relief. His He3 cargo automatically started to offload and his ship was refueled.

Katie called.

“Hello” he answered, trying to sound as composed as possible.

“You took some He3, didn’t you?” Katie grilled him.

“Well…” his voice trailed off with smile starting to crack.

“I’m just glad you’re ok,” She said, her eyes peering right into the viewscreen. “But um, honey, sorry but our air bill just came in.” she added.

A notification popped up on his screen. ”I’m on it, I just so happen to have another shipment ready for transport.”

All you may be interested in this.

"We Asked, You Answered: Your 50 Favorite Sci-Fi And Fantasy Books Of The Past Decade"
https://www.npr.org/2021/08/18/102715...

It may be good to have the yearly sci-fi anthology not only published but also run as an audiobook. Or it could be a podcast series even. That would be interesting as podcast series, could serialize the anthologies from past years and the tack on later anthologies as new seasons.

My father, the Henchman
Close now, very close. So many years. I can feel it. He is such a do-gooder or so his adoring public believes. I can’t stand his face, the blood red of his mask. His so-called genetic superiority. A Super. A monstrosity is more like it.
Just getting here was so much preparation. So much sacrifice to get to this point. 8 years in the army. Special Forces. Weapons training. Explosives training. Intelligence training. I would need it all.
My vengeance would be complete soon. My father was a good man. He didn’t deserve such a death. Sure, he worked for the local organization. A typical mid-grade henchman. Came with good benefits. Retirement plan even after 20 years of loyal service, if my dad would have made it that far. But he was my superhero. I was only 8 when it happened. My mother was in pieces about it. They said no legal recourse. No. Legal. Recourse. A lawful kill, they said. Whatever the fuck that means. Mr. super do-gooder must’ve been in bad mood that day and decided to cut my father in half with his laser beam vision. My father’s boss came to give condolences and said he would do everything to get back at them. He eventually suffered a similar fate. You know the saying, if you need a job done, gotta do it yourself. Studied everything I could get my hands on about them. The Supers. All the science, the math. Their tactics, their genetics, their powers, their weaknesses. The better to beat them at their own game.
I started my own organization. SuperVillainy doesn’t pay for itself. Got bills to pay after all. Though SuperVillainy is quite a lot like any other industry sectors. Provide a needed service or product. Profit.
Lots of growth areas actually.
Influence ops. Social media. Crypto money laundering. Weapons. Bot farms. Mercenary division. Private intelligence contracting. Pharmaceuticals. Even green energy. So many growth segments.
How many years had it been? 30 years to get to this point. It hadn’t been easy to remain hidden from them. Shell corporations. Aliases. Cutouts. Disguises. A creeping shadow inching my way to them.
“Father, I will avenge you.” I thought to myself as the street sped by.

“We’re arrived” my driver announced.
“Thanks, here goes nothing.” I say as I exit the car.
I walk into the entrance. I see an attractive receptionist at her desk.
“Hello, my name is Jack Smith.”
“Mr. Smith, how can I help you?” she enquired.
“I’m here to see floor 38, they should be expecting me.
“Ahh, yes, please take elevator. I will let them know to expect you.” She pointed toward the bank of elevators.
“Thank you” I replied as I head to the elevator.

I exit the elevator and head to the right, door 2.
There are seats.
“please be seated.” A little bit overly cheery front desk greeter welcomed me.
“Well, Mr. Smith. From your answers and your fantastic background, we believe you would make a valuable addition to the SuperTeam. We will first have a tryout period but we think you will do great.”
“why thank you, it’s been a dream of mine ever since childhood to be a SuperHero.” I replied.
“Do you have a SuperHero name picked out yet?” One of the Supers asked.

“I was thinking ‘the Red Death.’ “

“Are you sure? That sounds more like a SuperVillain’s name.”

“Yeah, I like the ring of it.” I replied back smiling as I looked into RedEye’s laser aperture of an eye.

It’s been awhile but I got something up this month. Hope all are well.

Edit for last sentence: They were saying goodbye to their dead brother-in-arms.

BDA:
“Hey, Smith, we have a new one for you.” The sergeant called over the secure radio. “Has some weird battle damage.”
The newest ‘patient’ as CW2 Smith, liked to think them, was brought in for his inspection.
“Brrrr, cold out there!” the sergeant stated.
CW2 Smith blinked when he saw the machine. “Yeah, that’s different.” He said as he looked at a giant hole which passed clean through the vehicle. “Whatever this is, they knew to take out the AI module. Hopefully I can get some info from the backup blackbox. No burn marks, like someone took a large cookie cutter to it. I’ll see what we can salvage.”
CW2 Smith called out “KAL, start recording notes for addition to a new Battle Damage Assessment Report, date of loss, today’s date.”
He looked over the machine. “Military property, type class M221, serial number 2320-32716, Truck, Autonomous Logistics” he said in the strange word order regularly seen in military paperwork.
“Battle Damage is non-standard. No signs of blast effects, no spalling. No burn marks. A large 1-meter diameter hole is evident, penetrating the entire length of the vehicle. Attempting to take out backup recorder now. Primary recorder assumed destroyed.”
Smith turned a few screws which released the recorder from its docking point.
He plugged it into his diagnostic tool. He looked at his screen. He noted the time that the recorder had stopped. “presumed time of damage was 0634 Zulu.” Disappointed, he noted nothing unusual in the diagnostics up to 0634Z, and then no data. He looked to see if there were any video record files. Looking at the most recent video files, he pressed play. The feed showed the truck travelling down a road. It went on like this for a few minutes. Then he saw something on the horizon. Shiny. Then the feed cut off. “hmm, this is interesting.”
“KAL, stop recording, and print out a DD1577.” The Key Autonomous Logistician or KAL printed out the tag, used to identify property as unserviceable. CW2 Smith reached for the secure phone. “Can you connect me to the defense intelligence liaison?” He waited a few moments. He quickly spoke to the liaison officer.

LCDR Williams hung up the phone. “Jackpot! We have a hit in the Artic Command AOR. Some truck got cookie-cuttered today.” That made the twentieth such incident across the globe in the last week. He plotted the location on a map which hung in the operations center.
On a screen of talking heads, several Alliance high-ranking officials spoke.
MG Yoshida, the Japanese representative “when will we have enough data to fight back?”
Dr. Stockton, a UK scientist, then started to speak. “We have started pulling data on the incidents to form a model which our AI may start to formulate effective tactics or technologies to defend against the phenomena. Each one of these incidents gives us another data point to use against it.”
“Good thing thus far it has only attacked unmanned assets.” Lt. Gen. Gonzalez, a USAF rep interjected. “For some reason, it is only interested in attacking our drones and robotic forces. Are there any theories as to why?” He said, looking up at the screen and around the room.
“If I may, I believe whatever it is, it perceives our automation or AI-driven robots as a threat. We have confirmed that the phenomenon does not come from any human adversaries.”
An uncomfortable quiet fell on the room.
Stockton broke the silence. “ahem, if this is some other worldly threat to us, our planet, I believe our AI can also be our best defense against it, given enough time to learn. The AI may even learn enough to go on offense.” Stockton said, not entirely sure of himself.

CW2 Smith left the bay where he had left the damaged M221. Eventually it would be taken back to the scientists for further study. In the repair bay, lay a dozen other AI-enhanced machines. As the door closed behind him, the machines whirred to life and surrounded the destroyed vehicle. One of the machines started to buzz and click while the other appeared to be listening with occasional clicks of their own. The buzzing seemed to grow more fervent as the minutes passed. Many of the lights on the machines blinked bright red. The buzzing and clicks then died down to strike a weirdly consoling tone. Each machine then in turn lightly bumped into the M221. They were saying goodbye to their dead brother-in-arms.

Hi all,

Found this collection of stories and contest (submit the missing story) mainly focusing on telepresence/robots.

Between 2,500 - 3,500 words

May 8, 2020 at 5:00pm Pacific Time

“Avatars Inc will select one winning story to receive a prize package including a new iMac Pro and more.”

https://avatars.inc


Jeremy

Forgot to name my story “Sleigh ride” perhaps.

Xalenr, chief engineer for Lightning squadron, looked at the schematics for the latest cloaking device. "I hope this works" he muttered to no one in particular.
His job only seemed to be getting harder. Maybe it was time to retire.
It used to be easy.
First it was the Soviets shooting off their “Sputnik.” Then the Americans with their Vanguard and Explorer satellites. And then the dog and the chimp and myriad other satellites, space stations, and interplanetary probes.
Interplanetary probes were problematic for sure, but they were infrequent, so the chance of running into one was almost nil. Almost.
Xalenr shouted to one of his underlings "get me the data logger and the pyrometer, I need to do some lab testing." Lately, he was worried he was falling behind about their thermal spectrum invisibility capabilities.
In the earlier days, he could get away with just rudimentary collision avoidance system to avoid crashing into the human satellites. But then he quickly needed better and better camouflage systems to avoid human increasingly improved sensors. He didn't need the heat from Higher HQ that he was responsible for some interstellar incident. They were there to help the humans, for Nrawerld’s sake. "Go ahead, blow yourselves up for all I care" he again muttered to no one in particular. His cruisers were always particularly fast, so he had only needed to add slight modifications over the past 70 human years. But the humans' detection systems were getting much better, a constant headache to keep ahead of.
Cruiser Captain Yaweld missed home. She was proud of her mission out at this distant planet, but home was home. This would be here last cycle, then a new crew would rotate in to replace her and her crew. Just in time for the Nraweld holiday, Yulwerld. Their mission was simple, well in theory, was to keep the humans from blowing the planet up and secondly to keep from being detected. The Nrawerld High Command wanted to keep a few "fallback" planets in place to regroup in case their home world was invaded by the Grerinshen Empire. It wouldn’t do to have the place wrecked by the natives.
Captain Yaweld saw it on her visor. "US Space Force" she sounded out as her visor automatically translated the script on the ship 2km on her 9 o'clock. The ship seemed to be heading her way. She commanded Ensign Valenr to change heading to the right a few degrees.
Immediately, the other craft changed course for an intercept. "Shit, they can see us" Yaweld shouted. "Full speed, heading 9degrees, evasive maneuvers if you need to, Ensign Valenr."
The other craft seemed to be able to keep up with them, something they hadn't anticipated. "Chief Wateld, we'll try the repulsor beam" Captain Yaweld shouted at the weapons officer. Wateld, punched the dials at her station. Nothing. “hmm, it seems immune to the repulsor” she responded. Suddenly, a beam of lightning shot out of the human craft and hit the Nrawerld cruiser. “we’ve taken damage to our port side thruster, Captain!” Ensign Valenr shouted. The cruiser started a long descent to the ground. They landed somewhere in the Australian outback. “send a distress signal, Ensign Valenr.” Captain Yaweld told. “Also send information on the human craft to HQ for further analysis.
On the Nrawerld mothership, Admiral Nikenr grimaced. “please ready a rescue party. Send Lightning squadron with Thunder running an interference mission. I will lead Thunder personally.” Crew on the bridge looked at each other knowingly. It wasn’t good to get on his shit list. These humans were now on it. “also, tell the chief to put the Special Package on my cruiser. He will know which one.”
He stepped onboard his personal cruiser, wearing his crimson red space suit. “I’ll rendezvous with squadron Thunder at following coordinates in the next 10 minutes.” He sent coordinates to Squadron Thunder. Admiral Nikenr looked at his battery of dials. He always loved to pilot himself. Especially for dangerous missions. He was addicted to the danger.
The next morning, USSF Technical Sergeant Johnson went into the hangar where their new craft had been taken for post mission maintenance. He looked in surprise as the whole craft had been turned to blackest carbon. He picked up a phone and dialed “we have a problem.”
At the post mission “hotwash”, Admiral Nikenr and his team reviewed the mission footage. He began to laugh in his distinctive deep laugh “Ho Ho Ho!”

Tom wrote: "Jeremy McLain wrote: "I submitted one, it's been a little while. But look forward to participating again."

Welcome back, Jeremy. Nice courtroom drama.

(Oh, and if you happen to hear something cre..."

Thank you, I was hoping most people would get the reference.

I submitted one, it's been a little while. But look forward to participating again.

Xenocide:
“Your honor, my client pleads ‘not guilty’ to this charge. When the incident happened, it wasn’t technically illegal to affect alien life on extrasolar planets.”
The judge stated “Be that as it may, your client knowingly destroyed or abetted the destruction of a then known alien colony. The state will now begin its opening argument in the case.”
The prosecutor started his argument. “Your honor and members of the jury, I intend to show beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant did abet the destruction of a known alien biological colony on an exoplanet. True she is not of our current times as she had been under cryosleep for over 50 years. But we cannot let such flagrant examples of xenocide become acceptable again in today’s society.”
The lawyer for the defendant started his opening argument. “We cannot judge a person from another time by our own time’s standards of behavior. Judge, and members of the jury, my client should not be judged so harshly. Ship’s logs support her claim that there were extenuating circumstances. Evidence shows the aliens in question to be extremely hazardous and should be avoided at all costs. Furthermore, the manner in which the incident happened had a positive outcome with regard to planetary protective principles we try abide by in settling the outworlds. All traces that earth-life had been there at all had been totally sterilized”
“Objection! cried the prosecution “The colony was ‘sterilized’ by a 40 Megaton explosion, your honor!”
“Sustained, but let defense continue.” The judge replied.
“Well, yes, to be sure, I agree it was a little overkill, but nonetheless could not have been prevented given the alleged circumstances. Unfortunately, the explosion also erased any exculpatory evidence within a 20 mile radius. My client has just undergone a traumatic experience, and should be treated fairly by this court.”
The judge interjected “Thank you, we may now here rebuttal from prosecution.”
The prosecutor continued “The defendant no doubt had a very traumatic experience on that planet, but she is nonetheless responsible for the extermination of perhaps the only known colony of this alien species. Our scientists have not found evidence of more of these species but what little aged and space-worn biological samples found aboard the ship when it arrived back to Earth. She claims this species was a threat to humanity and needed to be destroyed. Such a repugnant view certainly in our time, but a much held belief in her time, to be sure. It is believed by exobiologist experts with 99% certainty, that she has destroyed every last one of these aliens. Members of the jury, I would exhort you to convict the defendant of intentional mass xenocide and of at least the charge of negligent xenocide. Thank you.”
It was time for another defense rebuttal. “Media has certainly villified my client and I fear she may not be able to get a fair trial. News of her story has reached every colony. But some would consider her a hero, if in fact her claim is true that this species posed an existential threat to humankind. Who knows if this species did in fact pose such a threat. What if there was even a 1% chance of that being true, then in that case, I would put forward that she is indeed a hero and has potentially saved all of us from certain demise. She acknowledges her part in what happened but I would ask you members of the jury to consider the circumstances and the time from which she is from in making your decision. Thank you”
The jury exited the courtroom to deliberate.
A few hours later…
The foreman stood and all were waiting in expectation. The judge directed him to read out the verdict.
The foreman read out the verdict “For the charge of mass xenocide, the defendant has been found to be ‘not guilty’. A look of relief came over the faces of the defendant and her attorney. “For the charge of negligent xenocide, we find the defendant ‘guilty’”.
A look of worry came over her face. She whispered to her lawyer “what does this mean?”
The judge then proceeded to sentencing. “As our society has gone to what is seen as a more humane punishment system of terms of cryosleep, you have been sentenced to time-served.”
The judge continued “Congratulations, Ms. Ripley, you are free to go.”

Paula, thanks for the feedback. Sorry for delay. Been sick with pneumonia. Yes, I agree, the end I was struggling with up to deadline, thus...

NSA
(715 words)
“You will always live in the Cloud” broadcasted a voice in Chuck’s right ear. ‘A bit too cheery for me’ he thought. A female voice, meant to be soothing, almost motherly. A catchy background jingle. Too bad he was already half-deaf in his right ear. He ignored that particular message. “Fuck getting old.” He chuckled to himself. The Whispering Willows Hospice Center was as good as any place to kick the bucket. They had this new-fangled hypervisor contraption. It could take him virtually anywhere and see almost anything he imagined. His favorite was to imagine himself driving again. He missed that. Though he doubted any of the staff at the Center even knew how to drive.
Nurse Grace sidled next to his chair ”Now Mr. Smith, did you watch the NSA vid yet? You are required by law to look at it and choose, ok?”
“yeah, yeah, alright, I’ll get to it today.” Directives are directives. “Was that the saying?” Chuck wondered. His mind was starting to go, despite the new brain enhancements they had dreamed up. He decided to take another spin on the hypervisor. He drove along the Adriatic coast. The cliffs and water were mesmerizing. Everything froze, a beep in his ear “You are directed to watch a message from the NSA. All privileges will be suspended pending compliance.” Chuck winced. He tapped the icon to start the message.
He heard a voice narrating “This message is brought to you by the Nostalgics Service Administration” He then heard a voice of a little boy playing. “Now Charlie, be careful” was that his mother? Chuck was astonished. It sounded like her but a much younger version of her. A video started playing. He could see a little boy and his mother at a park. “Wow, that’s me” he said aloud. He remembered what he looked like as a boy from old photo albums his mother had kept. “How is this possible?” Some realistic simulation no doubt, he thought. Then the scene switched to him as a teenager and “Who is that? Holy Shit! Is that Alice?” It was him and his first girlfriend at the prom. He kissed her while they danced. Then the scene changed to hotel room where he and Alice had gotten a room. “What the hell?” Why are they showing me this? And how the hell do they know this? Chuck could feel the reddening in his face, both from anger and embarrassment. The scene switched again to his wedding to his first wife. Scenes then hopped both between his professional and personal lives. Birth of his children, and other milestones. He stopped at one particular scene of an argument he had had with his wife just before the divorce. “How are they doing this?” Chuck was baffled and getting angrier with each new scene before him. A premature death of his closest friend. A remarriage. The death of his second wife, Faith. Feelings of grief rushed back. He felt sick to his stomach. His head swirled. He didn’t understand. More scenes rushed past faster and faster. His whole life it seemed was before his eyes. “Make it stop, Make it stop!” he yelled.
“Ok Mr. Smith, it’s almost done.” Another person he didn’t recognize was with her. He gave her a syringe. “This is just to relax you ok?” She stabbed the syringe into his line. Everything went black.
The man said to her “Get him to processing ASAP, we need to get those brains cells while those memories are fresh.”
“Ok Oscar, no problem.” She took him down the hall and a door opened “Hi Grace” “Eve, how are things going?”
“You know, another day, another brain harvest” Eve had a ‘special’ sense for humor given her line of work. She took Chuck to a machine and placed his head at the end of it.
“Ok, Mr. Smith, time to go to heaven.” She pushed a button and read diagnostics as the machine did its macabre work. After about an hour a display read out ‘Upload Complete 2.5 Petabytes are now installed at NSA database.”
Eve called for the cleanup crew to take Mr. Smith’s body away. “You will always live in the Cloud” could be heard over the comm as she was put on hold.

Just checked Wired and they have latest issue out (Jan 17 issue). "The fiction issue." Mostly sci-fi short stories.

https://www.wired.com/magazine/the-sc...

Happy New Year!
Jeremy M.