Five Stars: Five Outstanding Tales from the early days of Stupefying Stories by Aaron Starr, Guy Stewart, Rebecca Roland, David Landrum, Ryan Jones Page A

torturing patients as a physical therapist, or eating way too much chocolate.
    You can find her at Spice of Life (rebeccaroland.blogspot.com), at rebeccaroland.net, or follow her on Twitter @rebecca_roland.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Return to Earth
    by Ryan M. Jones
     
     
    Azrial gazed over the field of broken stone, crouching in the shell of a collapsed building. The only noise was the whisper of her breather, filtering the toxic atmosphere. Her retinal implants cut through the fog, interpreting wavelengths her natural eyes could never have processed.
    Her enhanced vision marked her destination in red, vibrant against the miserable grays and browns. She was heading to a badly damaged building across the old city park. From orbit, it looked like the remains of a private medical clinic, but the fragmented records preserved from before the Fall could not confirm it.
    That was years ago. In the first weeks after humanity’s desperate escape from Earth, this was one of the few buildings targeted and demolished by the Machines. Most other buildings were either damaged in the initial fighting or else left empty and intact, but this one was leveled after the war was over. No one knew the reason why, so Azrial was sent down to learn what she could. After all, as far as mankind’s future was concerned, she was expendable.
    No movement. Good .
    Only the charred trunks of fallen trees gave any cover. She would have to move quickly. A Machine had passed by here in the last few hours, tread tracks still fresh in the dust of crumbling gray grass. It could still be in the area.
    She whispered into her comm link, the sound muffled under the breathing apparatus.
    “Nothing out here. I’m going in.”
    She waited for the response from orbit, counting heartbeats. One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand—
    Static buzzed in her ear.
    “Affirmative. Report when you make contact. Be careful.”
    Azrial closed the connection and lifted her pulse rifle. She stepped forward, feeling the hot air on her face where the breather did not cover it. A branch snapped beneath the black boot of her exosuit. She glanced down—no, not a branch. A pale rib, dry and brittle. A few feet away, half-buried in the sterile dust, lay the white dome of a skull.
    Damn. We really screwed this place up .
    She slipped from tree to tree, crossing the park, as her ears strained for the hum of a Machine or the creak of a ruined tree trunk crashing to the ground. Her nanocells wordlessly processed chemical aids, boosting her awareness, tuning her reflexes.
    The ceiling of the building was completely gone. She stepped through a gap in the wall. Glass crunched into the dirty carpet beneath her boots. Shattered office equipment was half-buried in the rubble. An overturned shelf still held some charred folders. She poked through them, recording what little text was still legible with her memory implants, parsing the data for a lead.
    No clues here .
    She moved deeper into the ruin, careful to stay clear of the sections of ceiling that still sagged. A set of elevator doors in a section of intact wall were slightly open, though no elevator car seemed to remain inside.
    A flash of light caught her eye. Sticking out of the rubble, a thick cable spat sparks from a frayed end.
    Part of this building still has power. A backup generator, maybe ?
    Her cochlear implant buzzed with static.
    “Orbit to Azzie: your heart rate just shot up. Everything okay?”
    “Affirmative. Just excited. It looks like part of the building is still powered. But there’s not much left up here. If there’s anything to find, it’s going to be below ground.”
    A long pause.
    “Our satellites show no enemy activity near you or the lander. We estimate you have about twenty minutes before the message of your arrival spreads and they begin to converge on you. Expect to lose radio contact once underground.”
    “Affirmative. I’ll check my watch. Talk to you when I’m back