The Waiting Tree – Stephen Higgins

…"So, Mr Fleck," Waters said, and then paused. Smiled. He indicated a chair. "Have we reached an understanding with our native friends? Do they understand us?"

Fleck shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I believe so, sir," he replied. "To an extent."

"To what extent, Fleck? I dislike imprecision. To what extent, precisely?"

"Well, sir… I put it to them that we wished to take away a large amount of mud, sir…"

 

Mating Habits – Sacha Davis

I preen my mandibles frenetically, my forelegs probing every groove and cavity for remnants of food that I know will not be there. Myranymr watches from the recess of the cocoon, half hidden in the shadows. Her antennae vibrate nervously; she does not like to see me over-groom. But the fear will not stop gnawing at me; tiny mandibles cracking the smooth plates of my carapace, needle-like fangs inserting themselves into my flesh, injecting their liquefying poisons…

 

The Glass Woman – Kaaron Warren

Feeding time. The Glass Woman in her glass box swallowed tomato soup, homemade, bright red, and we watched as it travelled to her stomach where, when she moved gently, it swayed like liquid in a wave machine…

 

Worm Song – Naomi Hatchman

…I am Krilli the Joiner, she said. I link minds.

She knew now that she was talking to a human woman, who was smiling back in spite of her pain and weakness.

"Zoe," the woman replied, and her mouth made a whispering sound that seemed to match the thought. "Please, do something for me."

Anything, Krilli replied…

 

Love Sick – Anthony Morris

Rhames lent over a desk curved and scaly like the back of a huge albino fish and grinned at me with the teeth of a machine. We were in a room that was all gleaming white tile and polished metal, like a bathroom that'd evolved into an office, and with his chocolate suit and dark skin he looked like a bug in milk…

 

Dance of the Murran-Ji – Colin J Ponting

"Well here I am, ready to go."

The brash young Earthperson arrived in the lobby fairly bristling with cameras and recording gear and looking every inch like a great white hunter about to set off into the darkest parts of the dark continent.

He looked so good, in fact, it was a shame he was on Tevea Prime, about as far from Africa as you are likely to get.

"Mr Corrinne," I inquired, "what exactly do you think you are doing?"

"Going on a safari, Mr Habicom…"

 

End Game – John T Stolarczyk

"The fact of the dying changed nothing." Pallas spoke the words as would a judge delivering his verdict and Hallows, as the defendant, knew the puinishment could only be death. "Do you want me to continue?" Pallas seemed uncertain. He held the piece of paper nervously as if he feared the words it contained.

"Go ahead," Hallows said, ashen faced. "I need to hear it all…"