Escape Pod Escape Artists Foundation

Murder or a Duck

By Beth Goder



George called out, “Mrs. Whitman, you have a visitor.”



Mrs. Whitman strode from her workroom, her white hair skipping out of its hairpins. She straightened her work skirt, massaged her bad knee, then hurried down the hall.



“George, what’s happened to the lamp with the blue shade?”



“To which lamp are you referring?” George smoothed down a cravat embroidered with tiny trombones. Improper attire for a butler, but George had never been entirely proper.



Mrs. Whitman examined the sitting room in further depth. The blue lamp was gone, as were the doilies, thank goodness. An elegant table sat between the armchair and green sofa, which was infused with the stuffy smell of potpourri. Behind the sofa hung The Roses of Wiltshire, a painting that Mrs. Whitman had never cared for, despite its lush purples and pinks and reds. And the ficus was there, too, of course.



Mrs. Whitman pulled out a battered notebook. George’s trombone cravat indicated she was in a timeline where he was courting Sonia. A good sign, indeed. Perhaps, after six hundred and two tries, she’d finally landed in a timeline where Mr. Whitman would return home safely.



Consulting her charts, she circled some continuities and crossed out others, referring often to an appendix at the back. The notebook was worn, its blue cover faded. And it was the twelfth one she’d had since starting the project.

Author : Oluwatomiwa Ajeigbe Narrator : Somto Ihezue Host : Tina Connolly Audio Producer : Summer Brooks “Harvest Moon” was previously published in Solarpunk Magazine Harvest Moon by Oluwatomiwa Ajeigbe “We cannot sustain the farm, Gozie.” I don’t like the way the words fall easily from Iyeh’s lips, even though I know he speaks the […]

A Layer Thin As Breath

By T. K. Rex



“Valley. Can you still hear me?”



Julian’s voice filtered through her dying radio. The Prince of Cats was a speck of light, dimming through the gold-grey film that, atom by atom, was devouring her helmet.



Valley tried to say something, anything. Failed.



Julian was sobbing on the other end. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so kzzzzzzchchchcffft-” and that was it. Her radio was gone.



“Oh god,” she breathed to herself, to no one. “Oh god,” I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. She sobbed once, twice, and then, with tears pooling in her eyes and the Prince of Cats invisible through the liquid, she found a pocket of calm, like stepping from a noisy bar onto a cool, quiet street.



Something brushed against her hand, and she cried out, startled. Her vision was still blurred by tears, and the thing dissolving her space suit was like an iridescent veil across the glass of her helmet, but through it all she could see the outline of her hand.



Not her glove.



Her hand.

Author : Marie Vibbert Narrator : Tatiana Grey Host : Valerie Valdes Audio Producer : Summer Brooks “Trash” was originally published in Escape Pod 467 (November 2014) Harsh language. Trash by Marie Vibbert Nanlee was a woman with the sort of past that necessitated moving to a non-extradition treaty country, but that didn’t mean she […]

Six Ways to Get Past the Shadow Shogun's Goons, and One Thing to Do When You Get There

By Stewart C. Baker



1. Dust 'em



"Listen, little lady," the guy in front of the door is saying with a sneer. "There's two types of swordsman..."



Chiyome's already heard enough to peg his type, so she tunes out his braggadocio and pulls out a bag of nanite dust. She'd hoped to use her status as the Shingen warlord's only child to bluff her way in to the Shadow Shogun's presence, but the dust works too. She blows a handful in his face and he shrieks, drops his sword, then follows it to the floor, thrashing in the station's artificial gravity.



Behind her, Rui whistles. "What'd you give him?" The other woman asks.



"You know how my father's always talking about unsanctioned violence and other threats to order?"



"Sure, but I always figured he only says it because he's the one doing the sanctioning. No offense."



"None taken. The point is, every time this guy even thinks about violence for the next 4 hours, this will happen."



"Not bad."



"Not bad? It'll take you longer to beat the next one with your naginata, I bet."



"A bet, eh?" Rui cups Chiyome's chin in one long, slender hand and tilts her head up. "Well and good, then. We'll bet a favor."



"A favor and a kiss."

Author : Maurice Broaddus Narrator : Cherrae L. Stuart Host : Mur Lafferty Audio Producer : Summer Brooks “Itoro fe Queen” was originally published in The Sunday Morning Transport, May 2022 Itoro fe Queen by Maurice Broaddus “It’s all gone.” The ethereal voice whispered—almost robotic and clearly distant—its desperate lament choked off with a gasp, […]