We have a two-way tie.
You have until 23:59 (GMT) on the June the 30th to make your choice.
The stories still in contention:
Incident On Station Summer Breeze. by Robert Mackay
In space, paranoia is a survival trait.
When Murphy arrived, we were terrified.
“Everything that goes wrong,” Jenkins said, drunk, “will be his fault.”
“I don’t care if he is a great hydroponicist. We’ve got to deal with him.”
First walk’s always dangerous. And the umbilical is very vulnerable to stray edges. Goodbye, Murphy.
Two days later, blight struck the hydroponics tanks. We’ve got a week’s air left. Murphy’s replacement arrives in a fortnight.
Damn.
If Something Can Go Wrong... by mosaix
“...and for the kidnapping of John Moore and the harvesting of his organs I sentence you to life imprisonment.”
***
“...a drone will drop the device into the prison yard. Activate it and you're out of here. Where to? Timeline?” A shrug. “Who knows? We don't even know who you'll be.”
***
The bed's comfortable, the room bright and warm.
“Not too bad. Could be worse...”
Above the bed hangs a medical chart labelled 'John Moore'.
You have until 23:59 (GMT) on the June the 30th to make your choice.
The stories still in contention:
Incident On Station Summer Breeze. by Robert Mackay
In space, paranoia is a survival trait.
When Murphy arrived, we were terrified.
“Everything that goes wrong,” Jenkins said, drunk, “will be his fault.”
“I don’t care if he is a great hydroponicist. We’ve got to deal with him.”
First walk’s always dangerous. And the umbilical is very vulnerable to stray edges. Goodbye, Murphy.
Two days later, blight struck the hydroponics tanks. We’ve got a week’s air left. Murphy’s replacement arrives in a fortnight.
Damn.
If Something Can Go Wrong... by mosaix
“...and for the kidnapping of John Moore and the harvesting of his organs I sentence you to life imprisonment.”
***
“...a drone will drop the device into the prison yard. Activate it and you're out of here. Where to? Timeline?” A shrug. “Who knows? We don't even know who you'll be.”
***
The bed's comfortable, the room bright and warm.
“Not too bad. Could be worse...”
Above the bed hangs a medical chart labelled 'John Moore'.
