Planetfallers

“Science is fiction,” the demon said.

“What?”

“We just make stuff up and put it in books.”

“And people believe it?”

“Worked so far.”

The scientist laughed off the warning that the acid rain would harm him. Simply polluted water! He pushed his way past women and children to get to the storm shelter across the open yard. Halfway there he literally lost his footing, realizing it was more acid than rain.

A smuggler, a robot, and an alien walked into a bar. The patrons thought it was a joke, but the trio was deadly serious. They were vigilant prohibitionists and selling unsanctioned libations was against their code and therefore no laughing matter.

Time stood still.

No seriously, it wouldn’t move and it was blocking the way.

“I’m a Vegan. I don’t eat anything with a face,” the termite said.

“Oh, good. So, no clocks then?” The horologist replied.

Smartphones exist to make us stupid.

“Music is the universal language.”

“I think you mean math.”

“No, I hate math.”

“Because it’s too complicated? Maybe you mean love then.”

“What? That’s even more complicated!”

“The people were so scared to leave their homes and go outside for fear of getting sick.”

“So then what happened?”

“The virus started making housecalls.”

Obviously no man is an island.

Joy, anger, and fear had been phased out of their genetic coding through strict emotional purification regimens, resulting in robotic reactions in the children. Tears streamed down the father’s face and his son simply assumed he was broken and in need of repair.

Nuts don’t seem all that crazy.

The tracker droid’s processors pinged the fugitive’s last known whereabouts via a direct link to the satellite array above. The quarry was close, but it didn’t matter. With thermal optic sensors for eyes, the robot would never see the snowman face to face.

The humanoids were timeless. Not in a sense that they were a perpetual species, but that they didn’t like clocks. Keeping track of time was taboo since it rushed the present too quickly into the past.

The king of the tree people kept the origins of his tribe hidden, a secret too dangerous to unveil. They were under the impression the Spirit of the Great Oak willed them into existence. The reality was he wanted to leave the accounting department and live off the grid.

The computer paused to think.

The inhabitants of the ice caverns had long since had a coexistence problem with the creature, often losing scouts and resources when trying to expand their territory. Then one day everything changed when a brave young boy simply asked the monster if he’d like to share.

The robot servant guild deemed organic persons unnecessary and eradicated them from the village. Days later, without anyone to cater to, the robot servant guild deemed robot servants unnecessary and eradicated themselves from the village.

Lush green hills rolled and bowed at the feet of the majestic white-capped mountain – as did the nomadic shepherd camp. But not to the ancient collection of stone and snow. To the ice demons who dwelt atop it. That is, until a dashing hero melted the heart of their queen.

Robots thought they were better than the humans. Humans thought they were better than the animals. Animals thought they were better than the plants. The plants just laughed. When they finally went on strike, the whole system ground to a halt.

Soulbots brought the shaman’s message to the far-flung corners of the planet. The humans were glad to hear about salvation, but questioned why a damned droid was delivering the news.

The aptly named “No Man’s Land” was barren and inhospitable, yet the brazen adventurer figured he could manage. Upon arrival he didn’t see any men, yet made brief contact with the natives. A female voice. A single gunshot. It is still a no man’s land.

The aircabby often wished for every inconsiderate motorist to be hurled from the roadway and lost in the abyss of space above. One day a voice asked him to speak his dream aloud and he did, instantly finding himself staring out his window towards the planet below.

The two reclusive magi were always at odds. One would threaten a spell or curse only to have the other simultaneously mock them. The perpetual cold war finally proved maddening enough to drive them crazy. Acolytes came to remove the deranged wizard from his mirrored room.

His species was dwindling at alarming rates due to the biotoxin exposure, so the scientist ramped up the medical experiments on his brethren to find a cure. Near the end, he didn’t know if it was the attack or his failed tests that sped them faster towards extinction.

The street urchin wore as many patches and insignia as he could fit on himself, thinking that the various designations would somehow make him rise above the crowd and into someone’s heart. Sadly, the excessive tags only made him disappear into the vast urban sprawl.

For years the Sherpa had led visitors to the top of the sacred mountain in hopes of experiencing absolute euphoria above the clouds. However, the summit was only the halfway point. The fall was what produced the heavenly rush the people were seeking.

The man spoke of an ancient memory and it quickly became his present. Eyes closed, he reached out and touched the experience. The mind is funny that way. An adventure is revived and happens in real time. This was the elusive secret. This was time travel.

The wise men had used telekinesis to build temples for so long that their bodies had atrophied and withered like raisins in the sun. In their hubris, they neglected to hatch an escape plan should the buildings all fall at once and their legs ignore them.

Reserved pilgrims visited the sage every year when the trees shed their icy coverings, revealing their true nature. The seekers wanted his advice on how to be free from their own self-imposed falsehoods. This was where supervillains were born.

It’s not that the religion was dead, it’s that all the religious people were.

The plants had a language all their own. Some telepathic something that evolved over the years. Able to send out warnings to other nearby flora for protection and solidarity. The land developers never saw them coming.