MYTHIC #20: Jan/Feb 2023: MYTHIC, #20

By Shaun Kilgore

A new issue of MYTHIC has arrived!

 

This latest one, Issue #20: January/February 2023, is the first scheduled in the now bi-monthly reoccurring publication of the popular science fiction and fantasy magazine. Inside you'll find original short fiction "Tally and Raul" by Mark Bilsborough, "The Clockwork World" by Aaron Emmel, "The Shattered Spirit" by Tom Jolly, plus reprints "Hellhold" by Sean Patrick Hazlett, "Set for Life" by Warren Benedetto and "Inheritance" by Shaun Kilgore. Also included: A new book review by Frank Kaminski.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Founders House Publishing LLC
• Release date: Feb 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798201112318

Shaun Kilgore

Shaun Kilgore is the author of various works of fantasy, science fiction, and a number of nonfiction works. His books appear in both print and ebook editions. He has also published numerous short stories and collections. Shaun is the editor of MYTHIC: A Quarterly Science Fiction & Fantasy Magazine. He lives in eastern Illinois.

Book preview

Contents

Editor’s Note | Shaun Kilgore

Our Patrons

Tally and Raul | Mark Bilsborough

The Clockwork World | Aaron Emmel

The Shattered Spirit | Tom Jolly

Hellhold | Sean Patrick Hazlett

Set for Life | Warren Benedetto

Inheritance | Shaun Kilgore

Book Review: The Drowned World by J.G. Ballard | Frank Kaminksi

Copyright

MYTHIC

A SCIENCE FICTION & FANTASY MAGAZINE

ISSUE #20 | JANUARY/FEBEBRUARY 2023

Editor’s Note

Still Here

Shaun Kilgore

Hey gang! It’s been a long time since I’ve writing an Editor’s Note to an issue of MYTHIC. More than once, I believed that Issue #19 would be the last issue and that MYTHIC would officially end. But, somehow, the magazine is still alive and I’m still here introducing you to another selection of science fiction and fantasy stories by a group of talent writers. Despite a year of serious setbacks, delays, and even some ongoing problems plaguing the operations, I’ve come back.

So… I welcome you to the twentieth issue of MYTHIC: A Science Fiction & Fantasy Magazine. I hope you enjoy the contents. That’s at the root of producing the magazine, my friends. It’s always been about providing a platform to share the strange, intrigue, and even profound tales of writers. MYTHIC certainly hasn’t been a money-making venture. I really was and still is more of a passion project, but it one I hope might still grow and flourish with the right combination of amazing content and the support of readers, subscribers, and patrons.

I’d still like to see MYTHIC become a pro market. That’s always been a primary goal. But that goal is rooted in financial realities, and those are still rather daunting. But I’m not going to dwell on them here.

Thank you all for coming back. Enjoy the issue.

INTERESTED IN SUBMITTING YOUR STORIES TO MYTHIC?

MYTHIC is looking for diverse science fiction and fantasy stories.

You can send your submissions to me at [e-mail] or [e-mail]. Visit www.mythicmag.com for more information on our current guidelines and instructions on how to format your submissions.

If you have any questions, you can use the contact form on the website.

Our Patrons

Here’s where I take the opporunity to share a list of our current Patrons on Patreon:

Eugene Tutko, Melissa Williams, Lin Faloon, Aaron Emmel, Brett Carlson, John Conner, Ethan Guthrie Herrell, Mary Jo Rabe, Joanna Hoyt, Dina Leacock, Donna J. W. Munro, Kim Guymon, Alicia Caples, Ashton Moreland, Tom Jolly, Ian Chung, James Rumpel, Jonathan D Eaton, Randell Pinegar, Isabel Kunkle, and Matt Hopper.

Consider joining these fine folks:

Become A Patron Today!

If you haven’t yet, please consider subscribing by becoming a Patron through MYTHIC’s Patreon Page. You can find it at www.patreon.com/mythicmag. There are multiple ways to get monthly subscriptions. Help me keep MYTHIC going strong and growing into a top short fiction market.

Tally and Raul

Mark Bilsborough

Tally and Raul sat drinking lukewarm machine coffee at the end of a long, hard shift keeping the water out and the habitat running smoothly. The canteen was packed but they had a long table to themselves. Word was, they weren’t even supposed to be in there., but Tally didn’t give a damn. Her overalls were spreading oil stains on the pristine white melamine, though in her opinion that made the place seem less uptight, but she wasn’t sure the angry looking college boys staring at her saw things that way.

Someone had left a dog-eared copy of an old magazine on the table. Wasteful, Tally thought, since the days of new magazines were long gone. Maybe someone just wanted to share the love.

Now this girl, she said, jabbing her finger at the cover. "She was cool. Big Hollywood star. Big. And not just ‘cause of the Oscars. She didn’t take no crap from nobody. They told her she’d never make it unless she dropped 20 pounds so she said ‘fuck you’ and they cast her in Titanic anyway. You know Titanic? Big ship, ends up at the bottom of the ocean after hitting an iceberg? Anyhow, the ship goes down, just like this place is gonna, heading for a watery grave. But Rose survives, against the odds, finds sweet love and the whole big disaster becomes a beautiful thing.

You want to be her, that’s it?

Damn right.

Don’ wanna burst your bubble, but she was rich and…

Don’t say it, Raul, just don’t say it. You think her boy Jack would care about that shit? Trouble is, he ‘aint here. Here we are, brave new world, startin’ again under the sea and it’s same old same old. Worse, ‘cause this is Texas and most of the folks down here seemed to remember the 1950s a little too fondly for my liking.

We’ve alive, aren’t we? More than can be said for most. Want to be on the surface with all the dead people, suckin’ up the heat, the storms, the pestilence and the toxins? Or nice and snug down here?

Didn’t sign up to being treated like shit, though.

Raul sighed. You need to be careful.

Yeah, said a guy, ambling over. Dirk, or Dick, or Deck or something. Tally could never remember. Dick, that was it. The guy was a Dick. You’re here because you’re useful, no other reason. The day you ‘aint… he made a slashing motion across his throat.

She turned on him. "I should be grateful, is that it? At least I can do something useful, Dick. What can you do that’s useful, Dick? Anything, Dick?"

Dick’s face went read and he started to raise a fist. No Dirk’s face went red, thought Tally. Easy mistake to make.

Just as things were starting to heat up, the emergency siren sounded. Tally and Raul got simultaneous text pings.

Shit! Wall breach. Guess whatever you’ve got to say to me will have to wait, Dirk. Unless you wanna start practicing your swimming? Thought not.

They rushed out, grabbing their toolboxes from the shelf by the door.

You really shouldn’t goad him like that, said Raul.

Havin’ fun. Besides, he can’t touch us. Without us this place would fall apart, fast. And every time we save their asses it’s gonna kill them to know they’ve got us to thank for it.

By the time they reached the breach, water was lapping their ankles. A small fountain streaked from a crack next to a large picture window, not that there was much to see, Just murky water, black and thick. They weren’t even that deep: barely below the surface, but the days of crystal clear oceans were long gone. They were in Galveston, or what was left of it. Technically below Galveston, in a bubble habitat, stuck like a barnacle on an underwater cliff, the Gulf waters providing a watery shield for the too-hot furnace that used to be the world.

Raul was on the crack with foam from his toolkit, a nice, even line cross stitched for effect. Tally thought that as showboating, but it helped give what they did an aura, and that helped keep them from being beat up.

He stood back, a satisfied look on his face. It didn’t last for long.

The crack ripped open and more water gushed through.

Foam’s not going to do it this time, Raul. We’re going to have to seal this section.

The water was half way up their calves now. Tally heard an unwelcome whir.

She glanced at Raul, who looked as panicked as she felt. Neither said a word, just ran as fast as anyone can with water rising to their knees. They just squeezed through as the shutter door slammed tight.

Fuckers tried to close the doors with us in there, said Raul, in a rare and, to Tally, welcome departure from his usual passivity.

Didn’t want to get their nice white carpets wet, I expect, she said, panting hard.

* * *

Tally leaned forward, not caring that she was dripping on Carter’s desk.

We could have been killed.

Carter was in charge of Maintenance. It wasn’t on account of