Children of Ava

“Children of Ava” appears in Birdy 128, August 2024, with generative art by myself. Young Maya is on the run in the ruins of Salt Lake City–but her AI companion, Ava, has friends everywhere.

Her contact’s appearance was not reassuring. Black bug-eyed lenses stared above an industrial breathing mask, part of a single piece of gear that completely covered the head. It looked at once like a military relic and something homemade. Otherwise they wore a cowl of heavy textured fabric atop what she thought was a hazmat suit. The figure was small and slight, a teenager or very small woman, most likely. They spoke first.

Don’t you have a mask?

 Their voice was not so much muffled as synthetic, the timbre androgynous, tone a little flat in the common manner of AI assistants, emitted from tiny speakers on the sides of their breather. 

No.

The dust is full of poison. And you could get BCV, not to mention nanomites.

Thanks for the public health warning. I don’t know how to say this, but there are some guys following me, and—

We know. Come on.

Jumping the Shark

“Jumping the Shark” sidles up and snaps its jaws shut in Birdy 127, July 2024, with art by Ryane Rose. Never thought a shark would be this goddamn chatty.

The gate’s stuck. But look, Jumping’s implant is fully functional. If he gets close to the gate, he’s going to get a nasty shock. Controlling the subject’s behavior is the whole point of the study. 

I know the point of the study, I’m just not comfortable with — oh Jesus.

What is it?

It’s here, the shark’s in the tank. I’m getting out. I’m—

(screaming)

Threshold of the Wild Hunt

“Threshold of the Wild Hunt” appears in Birdy #125, May 2024, with art by @flooko. It’s a quick dip into the land of Faerie:

A horn sounded in the woods to the south and all heads turned toward it. Sunita saw the fae around her unconsciously quicken at the sound, twitching ears tufting with fur, faces lengthening, bodies hunching as though about to spring away on four legs. “The king’s horn,” Harald whispered.

The Familiar

“The Familiar” appears in the February 2024 issue of Birdy Magazine, with art by Jason White (@jason_white_art).

Not until she burned several feathers from the chick did she feel her temples tighten — and tighten, and tighten. The demon’s claws were cutting into her face, its teeth sinking into her forehead. A small cry of surprise escaped her, but she fought it, tried to calm her mind, tried to relax her features against the pain, still keeping her eyes tightly shut.

When she finally saw the visage of Baalephin, it was neither cat nor human, but a verdigris crocodile, its grin all teeth, its eyes red and greedy. What have you brought me?

The Okhotsk Trade

“The Okhotsk Trade” appears in the January 2024 issue of Birdy Magazine, with art by Peter Kornoswki. A crew of Russian traders discover the perils of taking what isn’t yours – especially when what isn’t yours also isn’t human:

The Zvezda Morey had cannon, guns, steel. The deep-dwellers had needle teeth, claws on their webbed hands and feet, and countless numbers. They were hatched by the thousands in the darkness, voracious in their legions, contained only by the availability of food and intolerance of the sun. They thrived by the volcanic vents, ecosystems untouched by light and unglimpsed by human eyes. Even shallow waters pained them, much less the open air; but the offense to their god could not go unanswered.

Spawning Ground

From the December 2023 issue of Birdy Magazine, inspired by art by Roman Makarenko. This is a follow-up to the previous month’s story, “Jailbreak”, following a young Japanese woman who is completely paralyzed (shut-in) following a helicopter accident that killed her parents. With her body immobile, she relies on an AI simulation for interaction, accessed via a neuroport, leading to severe doubts about the nature of reality. (Astute readers will note similarities with my earlier story “Prism and Prison.”)

A swarm of writhing tentacles, obsidian, irregular, saw-edged, exploded out of the fabricator’s shielding, tearing it apart. The tentacles stabbed toward the spiders, which fought, but hopelessly. Whatever they shattered reformed anew, the nanobots magnetically reforming before they each touched the ground to attack anew. It was like fighting a storm of black dust, if dust was stronger than spinning saw blades. There was a reason nanotech fabricators were kept under such close guard.

Jailbreak

From Birdy 119, November 2023:

With the neuroport installed, Nao almost never turned it off. The real world was a prison. In the sim she was free.

Or almost. It only took her a few days to run into the first guardrail. She’d been flirting with a guy from Singapore who insisted he was real, and after a hot makeout session in an Alpine chalet she decided sure, why not. Fifteen months since she’d had sex (well, eighteen, actually) and she was horny.

The AI wouldn’t display Jia Jun’s genitals. When he took off his underwear, there was just … more underwear. “You’re fucking kidding me. Kasuga!”

Hunger Unto Him

“Hunger Unto Him” appears in Birdy 118, from October 2023, with art by Caitlyn Grabenstein. This recipe calls for equal parts McCarthy, Steinbeck and King for a Depression-era feast:

I don’t get where we’re going.
We’re going to Wheeless to see John Hood.
You said that. I just don’t get it.
What don’t you get?
We got twelve dollars between the four of us and a Buick that might or might not make it another hundred miles. But instead of going west like everyone else we’re going north to Wheeless to see some crazy preacher.
Seems like you get it just fine.
Damn it, Dustin, when you’re down to your last dime you spend it on food. You don’t throw it away hoping for a miracle.
You’re wrong. When you’re down to your last dime, hoping for a miracle’s the best you got.