Astruc, RJ. "The Virtual Possible". Issue #3

Virtual possible, VP. It's netslang, of course, a term coined by one of the many slippery psuedo-intellectuals who roam the network's corridors. Simply it means that in the network anything can and will occur.

Baksh, Imam. "Consequence". Issue #2

"I have no appreciation of danger," said the boy as he and Gry sat on the mountain once again, this time under the midnight sky. "You think that that's what allows me to take these risks, but you've mixed it up. I take risks because I'm trying to learn that appreciation."

Beem, Scott. "Argonaut". Issue #5

Clay just couldn't figure why someone would bother to do the slice-and-clout on his sex sim. His test files--maybe, but the sex sim? The stolen protocols consisted of Mistress Ravenna, a cartoonishly proportioned custom vamp with a subtle dominatrix overlay, as well as a few black-market dupes of popular actresses. There was nothing particularly extreme or unique in those sims--no necrotic orgies or pan-gender scenarios, no mutant genitalia or anthrobotanic scent-fucking. And yet the comm-queue now contained seven recordings from a person called 'Vestal' wearing the stolen features of his virtua lover.

Bey, Matthew. "Pioneers and Indians". Issue #4

"Ah, well. We're both here because of your father. To some extent." She gave him a languid wink. "You see all this out here? The land's empty. Almost all the weaklings have left. They just drained away into the cities or into their media. Your father was one of the first to recognize rural space as a new frontier. Or a recycled one at any rate. A place where the People wouldn't have to work until they died to maintain their illusions and the leisure of the few."

Coupland, Krishan. "Sometime After". Issue #5

Roe goes out on deck again. Some way off the towers and pylons of the submerged financial district are clearly visible. He looks out for things. It is early in the morning when anything seems possible. He has heard stories from other scavengers about underwater ghosts, gilled humans, mermaids; about great oil slicks leached from drowned cars that lie on the surface and burn for months at a time. Roe has seen none of these new wonders for himself, and this morning is no exception. There is only the city, brooding there absurdly like a collection of teeth.

Dianne, Marlo. "Bard's Bones". Issue #1.

I knew I was a Bard. I can't remember not knowing. It was one of those things you know by existing, something you might omit, but others won't let you ignore, like your hair colour or your gender. Our identity is imposed in our genes, and I knew that with the same certainty that I knew that floors were grey.

Leen, Gerri. "Inspected By". Issue #1.

They should appreciate her, too. She tested these babies, after all. Quality assurance by Inspector Twenty-Five. Damon was evasive whenever she asked who the other twenty-four testers were, and if there were more than twenty-five. But she thought they were probably like her. Not doing this for the money. Just bored and rich with a taste for the exotic.

"Life Without Crows". Issue #5.

They say all the smart folk died off when the world ended. I don't hold that as the full truth, but it's certain there's no one left to measure a body's intelligence. I've heard that there was once a living in that: wandering around the country and giving tests to young folk. But that's all ended. There's nobody left to give such tests, much less write 'em. And people up this way never held with that nonsense.

Lei, D.H.. "Fugu". Issue #4.

Marty loaded the software module into the player and fidgeted into a mound of blankets trying to get comfortable. The recessed lighting in the room retreated into a dull glow. His right thumb found the "Play" button, and after a few moments of quiet static, his leg jerked in a myoclonic twitch. That happened with the best headware programs, but not so early in the routine. This one had to be good.

Moj, Pacze. "Vista". Issue #3.

Heinrich studied his watch feverishly, dreading the moment that he knew was coming. Sweat dripped down his face, while all around him people were calm, cool, enjoying themselves. The feeling was of paranoia descending into madness. He knew he couldn't stop it, that it wasn't real, that it had already happened, that it was dangerous to deviate too much from the natural path.

Peterson, J.F. "My Bonny". Issue #2.

She took my hand. Her skin pulsed with heat, as if she were feverish. "Vision lies. All the senses, no matter how they are stimulated, can lie to us: pictures, books, memories, words, touch, taste. But here," she leaned back and traced the fingers of her other hand up her cheek, up past her temple, "in the mind, in the moment, the only lies we see are the ones we tell ourselves. When that's what you see of a person, the exterior doesn't matter anymore. Can you understand that?"

Reagan, David "No Eye Patch For Me". Issue #3.

Iron Maggie wiped the tears from her eye and looked out the viewport. She loved to watch the specks of light slowly wheel by, cycling through once every few minutes. She knew the brightest one was called The Sun, and the blue one Earth, but the red one called Mars fascinated her the most.

Her father, Leather Face Jock, claimed they were more than a lifetime's travel distant from their home on the Royal Fortune, but Maggie thought he was wrong. The motes of light spoke to her, reached out to her, drew her toward them. They didn't feel distant.

Stanchfield, Justin "Harvest". Issue #4.

His hand brushed the top of the nearest sarcophagus, the surface mirror smooth. Warmth spread outward from his palm as the stasis-field brightened. Now, a figure could be seen inside, a naked, screaming man suspended in the luminous matrix. Dalton let his mind reach into the field until he felt the slumbering thoughts trapped there.

"Not yet," he muttered. "Not ripe yet."

Whates, Ian. "One Night in London". Issue #2.

Ideally the authorities would have loved to remove every trace of the costly hardware when he resigned his commission. In practice, the alterations were too extensive. Removal would have killed him. So instead inhibitors were put in place - designed to block access to the upgrades and so prevent a veteran from becoming a 'menace to society'. The army would have you believe that such inhibitors were state-of-the-art and impossible to circumvent.

Not for the first time, the army was full of shit.

Workman, Athena. "Atomic Runner". Issue #1.

The baby was fresh. Most of those rotting in the overflowing dumpsters were not, but this one wasn't stuffed under all the grunge and grit, laid to rest beneath six feet of pungent, corrosive waste.