Space Opera in 100 Words

Getting back to 100-word drabbles, here are three of mine that all were published a decade ago. Sadly, the venue that published them, SpeckLit, ceased functioning sometime in 2018. I’m forever grateful to Alex Fayle and his crew for being my first paid market.

I used to have screen caps of all my stories that were published online only. I’ll keep looking for these ones and add them if I find them.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Long-Term Storage

Everyone knows where the answers are – at the event horizon. Hawking radiation retains all information. All you have to do is go get it…

Bold and desperate peoples, attempting to rewrite their history, often tried, and repeatedly failed.

The crew of Hawking’s Hope had a different plan. Don’t try to capture the information, try to join it: Immortality, a long sleep, until someone else figures out how to retrieve them. So the last humans, fleeing extermination, gathered on one ship, gambling on becoming wooly mammoths revived from extinction.

Whether that ship’s fool errand worked, we still don’t know. Maybe someday.

First published at Specklit.com on 16 November, 2015

Forget Me Nots

Two hundred years ago, we discovered FTL.

A hundred and eleven years ago, we made first contact. War inevitably followed.

Ninety-eight years ago, the remnants of humanity were dispersed among twenty hidden, low profile colonies, none knowing the location of any other, only that they existed.

Eighty-five years ago, omni-directional broadcasts from Earth stopped abruptly.

Seventy-two years ago, catastrophe beacons started broadcasting fallen colonies’ epitaphs.

Two months ago, nineteen colonies had been accounted for, destroyed, all but us.

Three weeks ago, something entered our solar system.

An hour ago, our president apologized for failing to save us.

A second ago…

First published at Specklit.com on 25 July, 2016

How It Really Happened

For most of them, it was the night sky that gave the first clue. They used social media to meet up, to stand together, ooh-ing and aah-ing as a constant stream of shooting stars rained down on Earth for almost four whole days.

But their leaders knew better.

No artificial satellite could survive that bombardment. Blinded, they could do nothing but await the inevitable arrival of the asteroids.

Of the eight we sent, only five hit – one missed completely, and two glanced off the atmosphere. Nevermind, it was sufficient.

The humans had no colonies. They are no longer a threat.

First published at Specklit.com on 19 October, 2015

If you enjoyed these short-short stories and would like to read some more flash fiction, Kindle Unlimited users can download Flash! a collection of 20 such stories for free.
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