The Science Fiction Podcast Magazine. Each week Escape Pod delivers science fiction short stories from today's best authors. Listen today, and hear the new sound of science fiction!
AUTHOR: Arthur Doweyko NARRATOR: Patrick Bazile HOST: Alasdair Stuart Nothing to See Here was an Honorable Mention in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest. Discuss on our forums. For a list of all Escape Pod stories, authors and narrators, visit our Wikia Thank you for visiting us on Facebook and Twitter about the author... As a scientist, Arthur has authored over 100 publications, invented novel 3D drug design software, and shares the 2008 Thomas Alva Edison Patent Award for the discovery of Sprycel, a new anti-cancer drug. He writes hard science fiction, fantasy and horror. His debut novel, Algorithm, is a story about DNA and the purpose of humanity. It garnered a 2010 Royal Palm Literary Award (RPLA) and was published by E-Lit Books in 2014. Angela's Apple won 1st place as best pre-published science fiction novel of 2014 (RPLA) and will be published by Red Adept Publications (July 19, 2016) as As Wings Unfurl. His short stories, P'sall Senji, The Last, and Nothing to See Here garnered Honorable Mentions in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest. He lives in Florida with his wife Lidia, teaches college chemistry and happily wanders the beaches when not jousting with aliens. about the narrator... Patrick is an American Actor/Voice Over Talent born and raised in Chicago, Illinois. Patrick has voiced everything from PSAs to major product brands, with a deep, commanding voice often referred to as "The Voice of God." Nothing to See Here By Arthur Doweyko There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else Would overset the brain, or break the heart. William Wordsworth I heard a squawk--kind of like the goose call that comes out of a police cruiser. Blinking red and blue lights danced on the window shade, so I figured they must have nabbed somebody. The trouble was, they were behind my house, in my cornfield. I peeled back the shade, and what did I see but a crap-load of state police parked sort of in a big circle. The ground mist was so thick, I barely made out the cut corn stalks. The rows led to the police who looked like scarecrows poking up out of the fog--all facing in, staring at the same something. Whoever they got cornered was out-of-luck, that's for sure. Funny thing though--nobody was moving. They just stood at their cruisers. My eye drifted back over the rows. Something itched up the back of my mind, and then the sun peeped up over the tree line on the far side. I threw on a pair of overalls and a flannel shirt, and jogged out to the back porch. "Hey, y'all. What's going on?" They might've been about fifty yards off, but it seemed I wasn't yelling loud enough for them to hear me. "I said, hey." Nothing. My lungs weren't all that strong and screaming was going to set me to coughing, so I stepped off the porch, and right away this trooper breaks through the fog, showing up like out of nowhere. "Sorry, Sir. Please return to your dwelling." Dwelling? "What are you talking about? You know you're on my land? What's going on out here, anyways?" The guy was wearing one of them black outfits, helmet to boots. When he spoke, all I could see was his chin wagging. He raised a hand and pointed back to my house. "Sir, please move back. There's nothing to see here." I was close enough now to see a little better. A motorcycle lay in the field. And that's when I saw the top of a silvery ball sticking up through the soup. It was twirling around. Reminded me of one of them mirror balls they use at dances. It dawned on me what might be going on. "Is that one of them UFOs?" A second officer came up to me, same outfit as the first, except he was carrying what looked like a shotgun. He waved it at me. "You're Grady Pearson, is that right?" Damn. "How d'you know my name?" All I got was a blank star[...]