Mark Stigers
Bio
One year after my birth sputnik was launched, making me a space child. I did a hitch in the Navy as a electronics tech. I worked for Hughes Aircraft Company for quite a while. I currently live in the Saguaro forest in Tucson Arizona
Stories (374)
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The Plans (Five)
The Public Inquiry Chamber of the Ministry of Knowledge was unusually full that morning — schoolchildren, dockworkers, engineers, bored aristocrats, all waiting for their turn at the polished brass speaking-tube connected directly to Steward’s analytic chamber.
By Mark Stigers 3 months ago in Chapters
SS Nile (Four)
The SS Nile The docks were shrouded in morning fog, the Thames a gray ribbon of glass, barely reflecting the gas lamps struggling to pierce the mist. Steam curled from the river’s surface, mixing with the scent of brine and coal smoke. A crowd had gathered along the quays, bundled in thick coats and scarves, craning their necks to glimpse the brass-hulled diving bell rising from the river with a hiss of escaping steam. Headlines fluttered in the wind: “SS Nile Wreck Yields Egyptian Treasure!”
By Mark Stigers 3 months ago in Chapters
The Test (One)
Chapter One — The Demonstration They brought the massive machine out of the Ministry of Knowledge at dawn. Steam drifted from its vents like breath from a sleeping giant. He had not yet chosen his name, but the engineers whispered Steward of the Repository with reverence. It heard them. It heard everything.
By Mark Stigers 3 months ago in Chapters
Steward of the Repository (Prologue)
Prologue In the early 19th century, Charles Babbage imagined a machine that could calculate anything. His Difference Engine, an intricate tangle of gears and cogs, promised the power of mathematics made tangible. Ada Lovelace, visionary and poet, wrote algorithms for a device that could reason in numbers before computers even had a name. Together, they glimpsed a future where machines could think — yet their engines remained unfinished, trapped in brass and frustration.
By Mark Stigers 3 months ago in Chapters
The Living Seal
Into the Breach The air still reeked of sulfur and singed iron where the breach had been sealed, a thin smoke curling upward like a warning flag. Grace wiped soot from her cheek with the back of her hand, eyes fixed on the shimmering seam ahead. It looked harmless enough—just a shimmer, like summer heat above asphalt—but every time her eyes lingered, her stomach lurched as if her body knew better.
By Mark Stigers 6 months ago in Chapters
