Hearsay Horizons

Been working us so hard I don't have time to write. We aren't allowed use these minders this way, but if I don't say it--think it, something --I'm going to go madder.              I'm dying. Overworked. Others might be, too, but I haven't had time to check with them. I can't be the first to fall. If I keel over, if I burn out, torch myself, they'll just keep dragging me along like a broken cog turned by the gears around it.              Migrana had Abigale two weeks ago. I missed her birth. Missed my own daughter's birth. I'd have missed her conception except Wayfarer incentivizes reproduction--we get time off for that!             Now Migrana tells me we've picked up a ship on the fringes of the asteroid belt--something drifting. Set all our other precogs off like crazy. We're drafting up an experimen...

Enbee sat across from the researcher currently typing something into his data tablet. Every few moments he looked up into her unblinking eyes, and then back down.               "What's wrong? You're all--sweaty."               "We're having... some trouble," he said. "With everyone's readings. I'm letting your minder know that Aegee needs to stay in observation overnight. He won't stop being sick." The researcher looked up again, and actually held her gaze. "Would you like to add something? Arcen's not going to like one of his kids out for the night. Hearing from you might help." Enbee took the tablet carefully, but it still canted far back in her small hands; she hauled it up before it could hit the metal table. She blinked for the first time in several minutes:                 She couldn't move--no, she could . She was. Moving. Her head locked into place, a near-painful press...

Gnomish traveler and scribe Ziplip graces us with his contributions into realm-wide knowledge and understanding in these cutting, but popular, forays into the communities that make our world the organic and wonderful place we know and love . NOT FOR SHEEP—Ziplip’s Guide to Shou Lung “Or read it—I’m an author, not a cop”  Shou Lung, the city of crotches and doorknobs: a lot of people live in Shou Lung, and it ties with Sijil for the numerity of its doors. Shou Lung’s doors, however, are attached to buildings, hundreds of buildings, ranging from tar-paper huts to immense skyscrapers. Shou Lung actually consists of dozens of neighborhoods and burrows that are, themselves, the size of cities. In far growth they burst with vegetation like immense greenhouses and grass-thatched roofs. In far waste, the glass and metal has been abraded to limit reflections that might give away the citizens’ true identities.               Near the Silent ...