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    Robot and Raygun 3
    Robot and Raygun 3
    Robot and Raygun 3
    Ebook86 pages1 hour

    Robot and Raygun 3

    By Christopher Ford

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    About this ebook

    Science fiction short story magazine.

    Robot and Raygun features all kinds of science fiction, from post apocalyptic worlds to starships travelling through the voids of space and all that lies between. It is our aim to help fire your imagination and to envision the many futures that lay before us.
    Each issue is made up of a selection of short stories to help you discover great new writers of science fiction.

    Stories featured in issue 3:
    A New Man by Gunnar De Winter
    Brain Scramble by Sierra July
    The Dome by Gregory Marlow
    White Sun and a Red Sky by James Eastick
    Again by Jeff Stehman

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChristopher Ford
    Release dateApr 26, 2014
    ISBN9781311125828
    Robot and Raygun 3
    Author

    Christopher Ford

    Robot and Raygun Science fiction Magazine

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      Book preview

      Robot and Raygun 3 - Christopher Ford

      Robot and Raygun

      Issue 3 – May 2014

      Edited by Christopher Ford

      Published by Christopher Ford

      Copyright 2014 Christopher Ford

      Smashwords Edition

      License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please visit robotandraygun.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.

      Table of Contents

      A New Man by Gunnar De Winter

      Brain Scramble by Sierra July

      The Dome by Gregory Marlow

      White Sun and a Red Sky by James Eastick

      Again by Jeff Stehman

      Connect with Robot and Raygun

      Artwork Credits

      A New Man

      by Gunnar De Winter

      It all started with an accident and a left forearm.

      #

      Car accidents were rare, but not unheard of. Even traffic-steering AI's and automated vehicles weren't infallible.

      All Jake remembered was a sudden impact, a brief burst of searing pain and then, darkness.

      He awoke in a hospital bed, pulling up heavy eyelids. The first thing he saw was Linn, his wife, portrayed against a background of milky glass walls, brightly lit by the ceiling LED's. She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.

      Jake, baby, are you okay?

      He frowned and nodded.

      Opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, Jake noticed he was parched. Looking around, he also noticed that Linn was clasping his left hand with both of hers. He didn't feel that, though. What was equally disconcerting was that through the nearly translucent skin parts, he could see black rods. Bluish lights flying around them, inside his arm, like capricious will-o'-the-wisps.

      His frown deepened.

      Water… please, he stammered.

      Linn nodded and got up, releasing her unfelt hold.

      The sound of a scraped throat. A doctor had entered. Mr. Jacobs, good to see you're up. How are you feeling?

      Linn handed him a cup of water, which he accepted with his right hand. His left one seemed to deny service.

      After a gulp of fresh water, Jake answered. Okay, I guess. He looked at his left arm. What…?

      Ah, yes. Unfortunately, large parts of your left forearm were beyond salvation. For the rest, your injuries are quite minor, a few scrapes and bruises.

      I can't feel…

      The physician interrupted him. Don't worry about that, the neurons are still in the process of forming connections with the semi-organic signal transmitters in your new arm. Also, the bioplast casing will darken to match your skin tone. Over the next week or so, your arm might tingle. That's a perfectly normal response, though.

      "But it's not my arm. I mean, not really."

      Soon, the doctor said, it will be.

      #

      You've got to be kidding. Incomprehension made Linn's face contract into a landscape of lines and ridges.

      Why would I? This one, Jake waved his left arm, is so much better than this one, now he waved the right one. It's stronger, I can shut off the pain receptors, it doesn't age, and any issue can be fixed easily.

      Linn threw up her arms. I can't believe you're serious. Listen, I'm happy it's working out well, I really am, but it's still a prosthetic. It's not your arm.

      "Yes it is, Linn, it really is. It is my arm. And more than that, it's an updated version."

      His wife shook her head. You just… I…

      You what? Don't you see that this would make me stronger? Faster. Better.

      But it's madness!, Linn blurted out. There's nothing wrong with you, there's no sane reason to do this. I can't even believe you've been able to talk the surgeon into doing it.

      He shrugged defiantly. I didn't have to. He was quite interested. He drew a breath and forced his features to mellow. He walked over to her and held her contorted face in his hands. He couldn't help but notice how much more information he got from the left one. Every pore in her superficially smooth skin was as clear as a lunar crater, the rush of the blood beneath the surface of her cheeks as obvious as a wild river's whirl.

      Listen, he said, looking in her bright grey eyes, I want to do this. I've thought it through. Besides, he was ready to unleash the unfairly harsh argument he had prepared, if the accident would've been worse and my injuries, and subsequent… alterations, more extensive, you wouldn't have stopped loving me, would you?

      She jerked back, incredulity leveling her frown. Her voice trembled. "That's so unfair. I…" She was looking for words but failed to find the right ones. With brisk steps, she left the room and slammed the door.

      Jake fell back into the sofa, looking out of the large window of their flat on the 82nd floor of one of the new inner-city scrapers. With a swipe of his hand over the glassy surface of the coffee table, he reduced the window's transparency, obscuring the smog clouds from view.

      He reassigned his gaze to his left arm. He flexed the fingers of his left hand a couple of times.

      Indistinguishable from the right.

      Yet so much better.

      #

      Jake was happy to see Linn when he arose from the forced slumber. But she didn't hold his hand this time. She sat in the corner of the room, glaring at him. She seemed angry at herself for being there.

      He smiled meekly – almost apologetically – at her before turning his attention to his arms. From the

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