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Guinevere deNeptunias scratched her blonde wig against the boulder she was chained to, watched the dragon approaching, and wished that she had taken up any other career in the universe.
The trick handcuffs seemed tighter than usual. Her girlfriend Io had designed them to break away, so Guinevere could draw her sword and dispatch the flying serpent. There were generally a good range of dirty jokes about this subject, but lately the jokes had taken a sharper edge. It wasn't that she really suspected Io of wishing Guinevere would "accidentally" fall prey to one of the large bionic pests that were currently the plague of Neptunias. But she was starting to think her girlfriend would find it convenient if Guinevere had an excuse to leave. Io craved adventure, and dependable (dull) dragon-dispatching Guinevere was apparently not supplying it.
Gentlewoman: "She has sanitizer by her continually. 'Tis her command."
Doctor: "Look, how she rubs her hands."
Madame Delphine enters the cabin, sits down in the bucket seat and puts her hands on the controls.
I look at her with admiration. She's not much to the eye; a grey-haired little lady with circular glasses, a white three-piece suit, and the black gloves she never takes off. And yet -- I may be the brains behind the time travel machine, but she's the true hero of the Resistance. None of us would wish to be in her shoes; traveling back in time to kill her own son.
Ever since the Rapture, we have all become far kinder to one another. I haven't seen a trace of judgment for petty differences. Not one gay slur. No Muslim has been beaten in a long while. My trans friends are walking without fear. And I haven't been slut-shamed once. It's a real Paradise on Earth.
"Choose," she says, her beauty breathtaking in the starlight. "Say that I shall be beautiful in the day, and all shall envy you for the loveliness of your wife, and a monster in the night. A monster--" her voice trembles--"that you may not even be able to touch. Or hear yourself mocked for wedding a monster in the daylight, and know your good fortune when the sun vanishes, and you see me in your bed, lit by candles and fire."
He has known many women. He gives her his deepest, most courteous bow. "I would let the lady choose."
by Joshua Fagan
"The first rule of diplomacy is to know what the other party wants better than they do."
In my head, I could hear the voice of my old professor, and his advice had served me well in the past. Knowing the Alpha Centuarian psyche stopped them from destroying Earth. Normally, aggressive alien civilizations wanted money or precious gems. There was one civilization that just wanted a recording of Beethoven's Fifth. Once you know what they want, you can drive a hard bargain. But the Plumarans were different. We gave them mountains of gold and priceless works of art, but their rampage did not relent.
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