A brand new audio space adventure book.

Anthony McGinley was ten years old when his mother died.

She was given full honours at a state funeral, but after that life in the McGinley household began to slowly fall apart. Untill Anthony found an unfinished novel among his mother’s things. It described an allegory for a flawed antihero.

• Can Nancy Goodaim save the solar system from the evil Sozman Borkstapple?
• Is there such thing as magic?
• Or are we simply the heroes of our own stories?

Nancy Goodaim, Space Ranger

Listen to all episodes on Spotify (or any podcast platform under ‘Irish Science Fiction’)

Written and Narrated by Brian Sexton

(Cover art by Aly Fell)

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‘I hope this doesn’t go on long, I’m tired.’

‘Wouldn’t count on it, those Zombooglians love the sound of their own voices.’

‘That they do, if I wasn’t in fear of my life earlier I’d have nodded off.’

‘Strange creatures -did ya hear that head honcho fella? ‘the visitors can live once they promise never to zomble’‘.

‘Wonder what zombling is?’

‘No idea, but it can’t mean eating as they’ve invited us back for dinner.‘

The Sci-Fi themed comedy returns for another night of messing next Tuesday. It also marks Sligo voice actor Heber Rowan‘s first time on the standup mic. Head for McLynns, grab a pint and enjoy some quality messing -starts at 8 bells. (Goes on for about an hour with a break to get more drinks in at the halfway mark)

Lineup for 7th March:

The first half begins with Coolaney’s Joe Fogarty, expect observational humour covering things like placenames, local radio, religion, fashion, and all the stuff in between and either side.

Heber Rowan is the second act -Heber is an actor and has an encyclopedic mind so all bets are off for his first set in McLynns.

Heidi Stemp will finish out the first half -Heidi is the queen of quickfire one liners so expect back to back puns with a local twist.

Cork native Dara McKenna is opening the second half. Fresh from supporting John Colleary at the SO funny Sligo festival Dara has a set covering everything from life with autism to daytime TV.

Jay Starliper, the Sligo Des Bishop, will follow Dara and bring New York style surreal observation to the room.

The final act of the night is Terry Markey. Terry missed the February night so will be making up for lost time with an animated description of how middle aged dads fit into porn films. Which is worth watching.

Dob Gullibocity stared out from the Booth of Quietus.

And thought his last thoughts.

In life, there are things to regret, and things to be grateful for.

I should be grateful for Emperor Guballaw Boncogti:

• He alone realized humanity had been infiltrated by Lunar Nazis.
• Everybody else believed the moon didn’t support life.
• Thankfully Emperor Boncogti does not rely on facts, or physics, or the traditional Universe to arrive at his realizations.
• Otherwise nobody would have attacked their neighbour.
• Or released poison into the atmosphere.
• I’m grateful the Emperor though of a solution for those affected.

But I regret inhaling.

---

Mork Zuckelberg grinned at the billions logged into his website.

‘Today I present Primis and Optis, the future of artificial intelligence.’

Mork gestured at two machines flanking him.

‘They’ll answer our every question, isn’t that correct Primis?’

‘The Andromedan Glagterack resides in Unmotocious Splendour’, bleeped the machine to Mork’s left.

 ‘Erm, this is why we built in redundancy -Optis, explain the error in Primis.’

‘Primis is suffering from Fantastitis, which occurs when an AI consumes too much Sci-Fi’, bleeped the machine to Mork’s right.

‘What’s the remedy, Optis?’

‘Darmok and Jalad on Tanagra.’

‘Come again?’

‘Temba, his arms open.’

---

Flungolian Chief Bodonigan Klump gazed proudly at the assembled Persceans.

The entire population had gathered to hear him speak.

‘Citizens‘, he barked.

Several listeners reared up on their hind legs and neighed loudly, their anterior scales sparkling in the moonlight.

‘This is perhaps the proudest moment of our history.’

An enormous chorus of gonks fongulated with pride.

‘The moment we surely prove those doubting neighsayers wrong. Because tonight we re-launch the Hyperion Arc. And when it returns to Earth, it will bring our ancestors one simple message -Interstellar travel is possible, achievable, and has absolutely no effect on human biology.’

---

Clunk. Crank. Flump.

Another Unit succumbed to the muck.

‘Machines do not repair that which is not broken’, advised the Prime Unit.

It was the Prime Unit’s job to ensure the mechanical domination of Giolla 47, and the Prime Unit calculated a simple plan:

• Exactly 61745 Units.
• Landing at the Southern pole.
• Travelling on the surface
• Would reach the equatorial citadel.
• Overwhelm the human defences.
• And assume control of the planet.

Crank. Flump. Clunk.

Another Unit succumbed to the muck.

The Prime Unit turned to its two remaining companions.

‘Machines do not repair that which is not broken‘, it advised.

---

Captain Spodelhawk Fomgalation saluted his crew:

‘I have full confidence that if all do their duty, and if nothing is neglected, that we, the Galactic Rangers, shall prove ourselves able to bring humanity the antidote it so desperately needs. This is going to be a very dangerous mission. 

Our spacerocket is damaged and leaking fuel. 

The Martians will be waiting in Saturn’s rings.

But, know this -no Ranger has ever been lost or injured during my time as captain. 

Which is why I’m going to step down and wait here on Pluto for ye to return. If ye do. Godspeed.’

---

Captain Fuddaldink of the Interstellar Survey grunted at Chaoineach.

‘What is it Chaoineach?’

‘Erm, we need to destroy the inhabited planet.’

‘But none of the planets in this system support life.’

‘I, uh, we, missed the blue planet.’

‘For Obbeldygog sake, I’ve already submitted the traces to command. They’ll kill me, I mean us, if there’s a mistake.’

‘Erm, exactly.’

‘Fine, discharge the planet destroyer again. And let this be the last time. We’ll have nothing left to map at this rate.’