It moved like a horse and looked like a bench. No face. Just a pair of mannequin legs, torsos fused together by robotic wire animating it.
“Gross,” Jen said.
“But it’s wearing the last shoes in this post-apocalyptic mall,” Amy answered.
They pumped shotguns.
Where Circuits and Magic Meet
Her gilded fingers slide his steel hands to her waist. “Do you remember when we danced so close, Sir Knight?”
The robot nods. “But this is impossible.”
“I am made of clockwork and magic. Nothing is impossible. A second heartbeat grows and ticks within me.”
Her Turz student was absent. It’s hard to miss a two-meter humanoid boulder of living rock in a kindergarten.
“Mitzoo?” the teacher called.
Mrs. Reed saw a little girl of stone.
“I got sculped down, like a haircut! I chose a girl shape!”
“Onscreen now, Sir. A refugee fleet. Civilian transports.”
“Maneuver the armada and engage. No survivors.”
“One starship is breaking formation.”
“Scanning. It’s large. It’s…”
“Battleship! Yamato class!”
“WHAT?! Shields you fool! Shields!”
Pirates, Bandits, Rogues
High Admiral Takei inspected the old space galleon. “This wasn’t a dream command, but you’ve organized a new front against the Corporatist Alliance!”
The captain nods. “Pirates, bandits, rogues. Add a letter of marque and we have a privateer fleet.”
Copyright © 2020 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
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Having worked in a Kindergarten, I like Roll Call best.
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