Written by Stephen Marlowe
Newshound
by Stephen MarloweMcLeod scanned the printed lines quickly. There was a prediction on the outcome of the World Series. It had better turn out incorrect, thought McLeod: the Star-Times had spent a small fortune building up the opposing team. There was something about the dangers of forest fires and an indirect reference to the possibility of a conflagration next week..
The Cosmic Snare
by Stephen MarloweLiddell shrugged and offered an expansive gesture which was meant to take in the round globe of their living quarters and the transfer unit. "We're nowhere," he said. "Or we're everywhere. It depends on what sub-space school you belong to. You see, sub-space is either utterly nowhere, existing below the normal endless but finite, self-contained spa..
Stop, You're Killing Me!
by Stephen MarloweI got into the car that morning and was thinking of nothing in particular—except maybe the cases I hoped to be getting downtown in my one man private dick office. We live at the top of the city's highest hill, my wife and our son Sam, who's seventeen, and myself. At least it's the highest hill in the residential district and the highest one I know ..