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"It's a pilot project of the Submersible Cities Research Centre at the University of Eastern Australia," Robbie said.

"You know the way most of the cities of the world will be underwater within a century because of rising sea levels. Blinding blue light — a deafening crack — wind whipping my fur — I’m flying — no — I’m falling. A startled tortoiseshell springs up — she glowers with dark saucer eyes, all arched back and spiked fur. “These days I call myself A.k.a.” “Where did you come from?

The idea is, rather than having to move, they can adapt to the new water levels, and enjoy the amenity of an aquatic environment." The storm raged as if in violent disapproval of the peaks that dared reach its elevated position. Bolt after bolt of lightning struck it — until the lightning came to a sudden stop. One, a wizard by the ornate staff and esoteric symbols that trimmed his black robes, the other, a small, winged monkey that sat upon its master’s shoulder. I sink down, as the smell of thunder settles around us. ” The Antipodean SF Radio Show delivers audio from the pages of this magazine.

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Liberton Christian School’s founders settled on its name in 1981.

, the online magazine that's devoted to the regular monthly publication of fabulous and original science-fiction, fantasy, or horror mini-stories of about 500–1000 words each, with occasional feature stories of 2000 words and beyond.

September 21, 2038 TO: Mr Gregory Pfeffer, 835 Milliton Boulevard, Ardmonton GE 50327 RE: Uncontrolled Animals Dear Mr Pfeffer, This will be the Council’s last letter to you.

We have issued numerous warnings, both verbal and written, and although a fondness for felines has allowed me to delay this, I can no longer stall the inevitable.

I was having lunch at my favourite cafe in Garema Place last Saturday after visiting a sick parishioner when a young couple I'd been giving premarital counselling came up to me. Check your dirt-clogged fingerprints for words within the whorls. I just don’t recall the doing of it, the sensation.

The young woman's eyes showed she had been crying hard. Because this transmission is coming to you, whether you like it or not. Perhaps it’s a natural response to all the children we’ve had; our minds and bodies conspiring to make us disinterested, our reproductive duty done.

"Padre, you've got to listen." They sat at my table without being invited: but listening's my job. Night has drifted in like a homeless friend, asking to stay on your couch, and you dare not refuse in case you never see him again. Instead, you lie awake listening to his breathing, afraid at every jagged pause his lungs will give out. Or perhaps it has something to do with the way we were changed.

The C-130 is flying pretty low and all I see is sand. Desert as far as the eye can see but the exact area for this type of experiment. It looked like a toy village — a cluster of brightly coloured plastic houses climbing up a hill beside a wide river.

The new strain of our bacteria just might be able to tease out enough moisture from the dead, dry soil beneath us to enable something to grow. Filling the space where there should have been a street was a grey plastic tube.

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