The Stories

By Louise Zedda-Sampson

sfgenre‘Hey, neighbour, mornin’!’

Tom leant on the back fence, his smile revealing more missing teeth than I remembered and today there was a faint shiner circling his left eye. The rich and time-honoured scent of Marlboro cigarettes wafted over with his greeting.

Tom was never friendly. He’d also caught me off guard in my own back yard, dressed for the washing line in pink-and-white bunny pyjamas and fluffy slippers. I moved the washing basket from front to hip.

By Gary Estcourt

sfgenreIn the grim half-light two figures faced each other.

“It was a good plan. No, it was a perfect plan,” the younger man said.

The older man, Sachem, looked deep into the new arrival, but said nothing.

“It's not how I thought it would be here,” said the young man quietly, “I don’t know, it’s just different, not like in the movies.”

Sachem snorted in derision.

By Tim Cadman

sfgenreMeena Racz was — as usual — doing piecework at the table in the living area of her and her husband’s tiny habitation module on the small planetoid of Colony 37J. Their living quarters were not much bigger than her single room apartment back home and she could never go outside without suiting up. Besides, there was nothing much to see anyway, except for a few stars and the satellites orbiting overhead.

Ever since Ogdan had left for his six-day roster at the algae farm she had been thinking about how she was going to raise enough money to get back to Earth before she went insane.

By Kevin J. Phyland

sfgenreThis Saturday night I am a young man. Very young. About nineteen or twenty. I can feel the fresh young muscles in my arms and legs rippling with suppressed energy. Caged panthers ready to spring at the slightest excitement.

The meeting starts promptly at 7 p.m. As it always does. The walls to the left and right of the room are covered in mirrors. To give a feeling of space mostly, but also to enable the meeting participants to preen and admire themselves or check out the rest of the seated avatars.

I admire my physique openly.

By Deborah Sheldon

sfgenreOh God, they had buried him alive.

Within the first moment of coming awake, Emil knew he was in the ground. The blackness, the silence, the fecund, ripe and familiar smell of turned earth could mean nothing else. A jolt of panic thrashed him. His limbs struck the wooden sides of the coffin and his forehead banged against the lid. For a time, Emil did nothing but scream, filling his lungs and emptying them, again and again, until he stripped his throat raw and tasted blood.

Panting, he lay back, thinking.

By Eugen Bacon

sfgenre‘A five-second button,’ said my mother.

‘A what?’ I said.

She pressed a pale blue object into my palm. ‘Your father gave you a dream. Here I go, it’s a button, my gift to you. Call up favours, use them wisely.’

‘But — ’

‘The button is special.

By Loren Johnson & Douglas J. Ogurek


Now and again, eccentrics from throughout Soonview came to Humiliation House. There they watched Pempus and Bilesnox, the couple that designed the structure, humiliate each other.

Built into Humiliation House’s exterior were all kinds of humiliation aids: an Atomic Wedgie Cornice, a Toilet Seat Canopy, an Indignity Balcony, a Disgrace Column, a Mortification Acroterium, and even a feature called Falling Sewage.

Most Soonview residents found Humiliation House and its goings-on purposeless and revolting.

By Roger Ley

sfgenreNestlings, hatchlings, juveniles, we, your brood mates, send filial greetings and news of the successful completion of our sacred journey. These returners who carry our message back to you will guide you on the pilgrimage next season.

Well can we remember our parting from the warmth and light of our home colony. How your good wishes and scintillating coruscations encouraged us as we set off across the cold and barren lands. Led by the steady lights of our guides we left the comforts of our home behind and began our long and hungry passage through the darkness.

By R. J. Sadler

sfgenreHe sat and sipped his coffee. The vinyl booth squeaked as he shifted in his seat. He couldn’t get comfortable. Wedged between his legs was a bag of money. He clenched the bag discreetly with one hand. His head was killing him.

He continued to sit and quietly sip his coffee. His reflection in the window next to him was distorted but clear enough to see his hair was a mess and his shirt was filthy and dingy. He could hardly remember where he had come from much less where he was going.

He felt an urgency to get moving, but something about this booth kept him lethargic.

By Austine Osas

sfgenreService starts with the normal songs of praise and worship.

The hall is packed full with worshippers, and when the preacher begins speaking in tongues to the high heavens her members follow suit. Her voice booms from giant speakers placed strategically around the church building.

"The end of the world is at hand, my dear brothers and sisters, let's pray to our eternally loving father, and let us implore him to forgive us our sins.

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AntiSF & The ASFF

AntipodeanSF supports the ASFF

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Please visit the ASFF website and consider joining for up-to-date info about Australian SF cons, awards, competitions, and to receive the Foundation's newsletter, Instrumentality, and more.


AntiSF's Production Crew

nuke conflux 2017 200Ion Newcombe is the editor and publisher of AntipodeanSF, Australia’s longest running online speculative fiction magazine, regularly issued since January 1998, and conceived back around November 2007. He has been a zealous reader and occasional writer of SF since his childhood in the 1960s, and even sold a few stories here and there back in the '90s.

“Nuke”, who it turns out loves editing more than writing, lives in the New South Wales North Coast holiday destination of Nambucca Heads, where he is self-employed in IT training, computer support, desktop publishing, editing, writing, and website implementation. He is also the resident tech-head, skeptic, and board member of community radio station 2NVR, where he produces a number of shows including The AntipodeanSF Radio Show.


mark web 200Mark Webb's midlife crisis came in the form of attempting to write speculative fiction at a very slow pace. His wife maintains this is a good outcome considering the more expensive and cliched alternatives. Evidence of Mark's attempts to procrastinate in his writing, including general musings and reviews of books he has been reading, can be found at

One of Mark’s very best forms of writing procrastination is to produce the eBook series for AntipodeanSF, which he has been doing since issue 175.


The AntipodeanSF Radio Show

In The Next Issue...

Coming In Issue 244

by Ishmael A. Soledad

Fairies At The Bottom Of The Garden
by Louise Burch

Hollywood Product
by J. H. Malone

Jerry Cornelius (The English Assassin)
by Roger Ley

by Imogen Cassidy

Old City
by Trent Jamieson

Silver Lining
by Rex Caleval

by Simon Petrie

A Necessary Intervention
by Zebuline Carter

Star Dream
by Theodore Irvin Silar

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From Coeur De Lion Publishing

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"Trust me, you want this free speculative fiction e-zine."
(Rob Hood)

AntipodeanSF October 2018


Speculative Fiction
ISSN 1442-0686

Online Since Feb 1998

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AntiSF's Narration Team

marg essex 200Margaret lives the good life on a small piece of rural New South Wales Australia, with an amazing man, a couple of pets, and several rambunctious wombats.

She feels so lucky to be a part of the AntiSF team.

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mark english 100Mark is an astrophysicist and space scientist who worked on the Cassini/Huygens mission to Saturn. Following this he worked in computer consultancy, engineering, and high energy research (with a stint at the JET Fusion Torus).

All this science hasn't damped his love of fantasy and science fiction. It has, however, ruined his enjoyment of rainbows, colourful flames on romantic log fires, and rings around the moon. He has previously been published in Stupefying Stories Showcase, Everyday Fiction, Escape Pod, Perihelion and also on AntipodeanSF where he is part of the narration team.

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garry dean narratorGarry Dean lives on the Mid Coast of New South Wales Australia, and has been a fan of SF for most of his natural life. Being vision impaired, he makes good use of voice recognition and text to speech in order to write. Many of his stories have appeared in AntipodeanSF over the years, and his love of all things audio led him to join the narration team in 2017.

You can read examples of Garry's fiction on his website <>

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david whitaker 200David Whitaker is originally from the UK though has travelled around a bit and now resides in India. He has a degree in Journalism, however decided that as he’s always preferred making things up it should ultimately become a resource rather than a profession.

His stories, covering everything from sci-fi to philosophy, have been published across the globe and links to each can be found at <>

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carolyn eccles 100

Carolyn's work spans devising, performance, theatre-in-education and a collaborative visual art practice.

She tours children's works to schools nationally with School Performance Tours, is a member of the Bathurst physical theatre ensemble Lingua Franca and one half of darkroom — a visual arts practice with videographer Sean O'Keeffe.

(Photo by Jeremy Belinfante) 

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pixie willo 100Pixie is a voice actor, cabaret performer & slam poet From the Blue Mountains in NSW.

She enjoys writing short fiction, plays for radio and stage as well as her own brand of weird poetry.

She hosts the 'Off-Beet Poetry Slam' held bi-monthly in Katoomba,

And is a theatre reviewer for 2SER FM in Sydney.

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timonthy gwyn 100Timothy Gwyn is a professional pilot in Canada, where he flies to remote communities. During a lull in his flying career, he was a radio announcer for three years, and he is also an author.

In addition to short stories at AntipodeanSF and, his SF novel is available internationally in print and ebook formats. "Avians" draws on his love of alternative aviation to tell the tale of a girl who runs away from home to join a cadre of glider pilots on a world without metal or fossil fuels.

On Twitter, he is @timothygwyn, and his blogs are at <>.

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lauriebell 2 200Laurie Bell lives in Melbourne, Australia. She was that girl you found with her nose always buried in a book. She has been writing ever since she was a little girl and first picked up a pen. From books to short stories, radio plays to snippets of ideas and reading them aloud to anyone who will listen.

She is the author of The Butterfly Stone (available now).

You can read more of her work on her blog Look for her on Facebook <> or Twitter: <@LaurienotLori>

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SF News

SF News

Roger Ley's story in this issue "Pilgrimage"  has gained an Honourable Mention in the Writers of the Future competition.

Congratulations Roger!


Upcoming Aussie Cons

Oztrek 14 Adelaide — Saturday Oct 6, Brisbane — Sunday Oct 7, Melbourne — Saturday Oct 13, Sydney — Sunday Oct 14. Guests John Billingsley & Sara Mitich. <>.

2018 SciFi Film Festival 18-21 Oct Event Cinemas George St Sydney <>.

Monsterfest Horror Movie Festival 22-25 November, Cinema Nova Melbourne <>.

INDIE COMIC CON 2018 8 Dec Northcote Town Hall, Melbourne Free event. <>.

Nullus Anxietas VII: The Australian Discworld Convention — will be held in Melbourne on April 12-14, 2019, and is themed on Going Postal. More information: <>.

Continuum 15 Other Worlds (Natcon 58): Continuum 15 is the Australian National SF Convention, to be held in Melbourne on June 7–10. More information and memberships <>. AntipodeanSF will be at Continuum 15 and celebrating Issue 250 of AntiSF!

For more up-to-date Aussie SF info join the ASFF: <>.

The AntipodeanSF Radio Show

AntiSF Radio Show

antipod-show-50The AntipodeanSF Radio Show delivers audio from the pages of this magazine.

The weekly program features the stories from recently published issues, usually narrated by the authors themselves.

Listen to the latest episode now:

The AntipodeanSF Radio Show is also broadcast on community radio, 2NVR, 105.9FM every Saturday evening at 8:30pm.

You can find every broadcast episode online here: 

SF Quote

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

Arthur C. Clarke