Audiobooks narrated by Scott Miller

The Star by H. G. Wells - As a mysterious star hurtles toward Earth, bringing with it unprecedented chaos and destruction, humanity grapples with the impending apocalypse and the uncertain fate of their world. Amidst the turmoil, a diverse array of individuals—from scientists to lovers, from scholars to refugees—navigate the cataclysmic events and search for meaning in the face of annihilation. It was on the first day of the new year that the announcement was made, almost simultaneously from three observatories, that the motion of the planet Neptune, the outermost of all the planets that wheeled about the sun, had become erratic. Ogilvy had already called attention to a suspected retardation in its velocity in December. Such a piece of news was scarcely calculated to interest the world the greater portion of whose inhabitants were unaware of the existence of the planet Neptune, nor outside the astronomical profession did the subsequent discovery of a faint remote speck of light in the region of the perturbed planet cause any great excitement. Scientific people, however, found the intelligence remarkable enough, even before it became known that the new body was rapidly growing larger and brighter, that its motion was quite different from the orderly progress of the planets, and that the deflection of Neptune and its satellite was becoming now of an unprecedented kind. Few people without training in science can realize the huge isolation of the solar system. The sun with its specks of planets, its dust of planetoids, and its impalpable comets swims in vacant immensity that almost defeats the imagination.

H.G. Wells (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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Apocalyptic Sci-Fi 2 - 10 Science Fiction Short Stories by Philip K. Dick, H. G. Wells, Fritz Leiber

Ten Apocalyptic and Post-Apocalyptic science fiction short stories from some of the best sci-fi authors of the 1940s, 50s and 60s. - Time Enough At Last by Lynn Venable - Breakfast at Twilight by Philip K. Dick - Inheritance by Edward W. Ludwig - Homecoming by Miguel Hidalgo - Proof of the Pudding by Robert Sheckley - The Star by H. G. Wells - Not a Creature Was Stirring by Dean Evans - The Spy in the Elevator by Donald E. Westlake - The Enormous Word by William Oberfield - The Moon is Green by Fritz Leiber

Dean Evans, Donald E. Westlake, Edward W. Ludwig, Fritz Leiber, H.G. Wells, Lynn Venable, Miguel Hidalgo, Philip K. Dick, Robert Sheckley, William Oberfield (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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The Moon is Green

The Moon is Green by Fritz Leiber - Anybody who wanted to escape death could, by paying a very simple price—denial of life! 'Effie! What the devil are you up to?' Her husband's voice, chopping through her mood of terrified rapture, made her heart jump like a startled cat, yet by some miracle of feminine self-control her body did not show a tremor. Dear God, she thought, he mustn't see it. It's so beautiful, and he always kills beauty. 'I'm just looking at the Moon,' she said listlessly. 'It's green.' Mustn't, mustn't see it. And now, with luck, he wouldn't. For the face, as if it also heard and sensed the menace in the voice, was moving back from the window's glow into the outside dark, but slowly, reluctantly, and still faunlike, pleading, cajoling, tempting, and incredibly beautiful. 'Close the shutters at once, you little fool, and come away from the window!' 'Green as a beer bottle,' she went on dreamily, 'green as emeralds, green as leaves with sunshine striking through them and green grass to lie on.' She couldn't help saying those last words. They were her token to the face, even though it couldn't hear.

Fritz Leiber (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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The Monsters

Robert Sheckley (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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Not a Creature Was Stirring

Dean Evans (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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A Hitch in Time

A Hitch in Time by Frederik Pohl - Young Thom Ra travels back to the hideous Venus-Earth war, and ventures peril to win lovely Elren Dri for his mate! Obviously the man was dying, and there was no chance that he ever would be discovered. I blessed the carelessness that had caused me to set the space-time dials a little off when I began this journey to the distant past. I had come to this barbaric era in the proper time, indeed, but millions of miles removed from it in space. It had been only after an annoying search that I had discovered Earth, jetted toward it in my space-drive suit and had come down out of the skies to land on this tiny, deserted island in the middle of an empty sea. But it was incredible luck that had brought me there. For I had found exactly what I needed—a man who would give me information, clothing and an identity—and then die, and obliterate the record of my interference with the course of events! I, Thom Ra, walked toward him. Feeble though he was, he opened his eyes and stared at me. 'Thank Heaven!' he whispered, in the thick, hideous language of that era. 'I couldn't have lasted much longer if you hadn't found me.' He fell back and smiled at me with heartfelt gratitude, and for a moment I felt a wild, fleeting impulse to help him, to save his life. But of course, I dared not interfere. For that would change the shape of the future, and that meant destruction for me.... When I blasted off from the island, a little later, he was dead, and I was wearing his uniform—and his name. He gave me information before he died, and I had no trouble locating the spot I wanted. I waited till dark before landing a few hundred yards from the war-dome. Then I hid my space-drive suit in a cluster of ancient trees, and walked into the building that housed the most murderous weapon of all time.

Frederik Pohl (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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Proof of the Pudding

Proof of the Pudding by Robert Sheckley - One man's fact is fantasy for another—except the man whose fantasies become solid facts! His arms were very tired, but he lifted the chisel and mallet again. He was almost through; only a few more letters and the inscription, cut deeply into the tough granite, would be finished. He rounded out the last period and straightened up, dropping his tools carelessly to the floor of the cave. Proudly he wiped the perspiration from his dirty stubbled face and read what he had written. I ROSE FROM THE SLIME OF THE PLANET. NAKED AND DEFENSELESS, I FASHIONED TOOLS. I BUILT AND DEMOLISHED, CREATED AND DESTROYED. I CREATED A THING GREATER THAN MYSELF THAT DESTROYED ME. MY NAME IS MAN AND THIS IS MY LAST WORK. He smiled. What he had written was good. Not literary enough, perhaps, but a fitting tribute to the human race, written by the last man. He glanced at the tools at his feet. Having no further use for them, he dissolved them, and, hungry from his long work, squatted in the rubble of the cave and created a dinner. He stared at the food for a moment, wondering what was lacking; then, sheepishly, created a table and chair, utensils and plates. He was embarrassed. He had forgotten them again. Although there was no need to rush, he ate hurriedly, noting the odd fact that when he didn't think of anything specific, he always created hamburger, mashed potatoes, peas, bread and ice cream. Habit, he decided. Finished, he made the remnants of the meal disappear, and with them the plates, utensils and table. The chair he retained. Sitting on it, he stared thoughtfully at the inscription. It's fine, he thought, but no human other than myself will ever read it. It was fairly certain that he was the last man alive on the Earth. The war had been thorough.

Robert Sheckley (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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The Spy in the Elevator

The Spy in the Elevator by Donald E. Westlake - He was dangerously insane. He threatened to destroy everything that was noble anddecent—including my date with my girl! When the elevator didn't come, that just made the day perfect. A broken egg yolk, a stuck zipper, a feedback in the aircon exhaust, the window sticking at full transparency—well, I won't go through the whole sorry list. Suffice it to say that when the elevator didn't come, that put the roof on the city, as they say. It was just one of those days. Everybody gets them. Days when you're lucky in you make it to nightfall with no bones broken. But of all times for it to happen! For literally months I'd been building my courage up. And finally, just today, I had made up my mind to do it—to propose to Linda. I'd called her second thing this morning—right after the egg yolk—and invited myself down to her place. 'Ten o'clock,' she'd said, smiling sweetly at me out of the phone. She knew why I wanted to talk to her. And when Linda said ten o'clock, she meant ten o'clock. Don't get me wrong. I don't mean that Linda's a perfectionist or a harridan or anything like that. Far from it. But she does have a fixation on that one subject of punctuality. The result of her job, of course. She was an ore-sled dispatcher. Ore-sleds, being robots, were invariably punctual. If an ore-sled didn't return on time, no one waited for it. They simply knew that it had been captured by some other Project and had blown itself up.

Donald E. Westlake (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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Skin Game

Skin Game by Charles E. Fritch - Working on the theory that you can skin a sucker in space as well as on Earth, the con team of Harding and Sheckly operated furtively but profitably among natives of the outer planets. That is—until there was a question of turnabout being fair play in a world where natives took their skinning literally! 'People are basically alike,' Harding said democratically. He sat idly against the strawlike matting of the hut wall and reached for a native fruit in a nearby bowl. 'They're all suckers, even the smartest of them; in fact, the ones who think they're the smartest generally wind up to be the dumbest.' Carefully, he bit into the fruit which resembled an orange and, mouth full, nodded approvingly. 'Say, these aren't bad. Try one.' Sheckly shook his head, determined to avoid as many aspects of this culture as he could. 'But these aren't people,' he reminded, not happy with the thought. 'They're lizards.' Harding shrugged and settled back, his grinning features ruddy in the flaring torchlight. 'Humanoids have no monopoly on suckerhood. When it comes to that, we're all brothers under the skin, no matter what color or how hard the skin may be.' He sighed, contemplating the harvest-to-be. 'No, Sheckly, it'll be like taking candy from a baby. We'll be out of here with our pockets bulging before the Space Patrol can bat an eyelash in this direction.' Unconvinced, Sheckly stared glumly through the open doorway of the hut into the warm humid night, where a fire flared in the darkness and long shadows danced and slithered around it. 'It's not the Space Patrol I'm worried about,' he said, after a while. 'I don't mind fleecing humanoids—' he shivered, grimacing—'but lizards!'

Charles E. Fritch (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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The Enormous Word

The Enormous Word by William Oberfield - The blue men had ravaged Terra and reduced Winston Eberly to a contemptible insect. Now here he was, complaining of indigestion! Hurry! Hurry! Run as fast as you can go to the big tree! Crouch beneath its branches and hide, staring up through its open spaces to see if anything is glinting in the clear sky. Anything there? Oh God, yes! No, it's only a bird, a small cloud drifting. Now! Dash madly, crawl on your belly, fight on to the next place of concealment! Winston Eberly knew he was talking to himself, but he didn't give a damn. He was sweating and sick from exertion, half mad with burning thirst and bleeding from an unknown number of cuts and scratches, but that didn't matter either. The only thing that had any real meaning or value was the stuff in the box in his pocket. He slapped the pocket with a dirt-encrusted hand. 'Good old box! Good old U-235!' he mumbled feverishly. 'You'll pull us out of this mess we're in. You'll show the blasted men from space they're not playing with children!' Pausing in shadows he looked again at the sky. All blue and quiet. Nothing stirring up there, nothing glinting. But they were there all right; they were always there. Maybe they were in the stratosphere, maybe above it, or about to streak low across the sky from horizon to horizon in the twinkling of an eye. Men from space. Hateful, sadistic, repulsive men from outer space! Oh, how overbearing they were; how greedy and cruel and how sure of themselves! They had reason to be confident, of course. They had simply stood far off in space and shrouded the entire world in a terrible radiation that brought unconsciousness to all and death to many. And something in that radiation had sought out every particle of refined Uranium and Hiroshimaized the world.

William Oberfield (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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Inheritance

Inheritance by Edward W. Ludwig - He had been in the cave for only a short time it seemed. But when he finally emerged the world he knew was gone. And it had left him with a strange—Inheritance It shone as a pin-point of silver far away in the midnight-blackness of the cave. It shone as a tiny island of life in a sea of death. It shone as a symbol of His mercy. Martin stood swaying, staring wide-eyed at that wonderful light and letting its image sink deep into his vision. His eyes lidded as consciousness faded for an instant, then opened. 'We've almost made it,' he gasped. 'We've almost made it, Sandy, you and me and the pup!' His hand passed tenderly over the puppy, a soft, hairy ball of living warmth cradled in his arm. And from out of the darkness at his feet came a feeble bark. Martin choked on the ancient, tomb-stale air. 'We can't stop now, Sandy,' he wheezed. 'We're almost there, almost at the entrance!' He shuffled forward over the cold stone floor of the little cave, the thick, dead air a solid thing, a wall that pressed him back, back, back. But the light grew larger, expanding like a balloon, and suddenly there was a skittering of dog-paws over stone and a joyous, frantic barking. 'That's right, Sandy, go ahead. Breathe that air, that fresh air!' Martin staggered once, his lean, tall body thudding against sharp rock in the side of the cave. Then a draft of air blew cool and fresh into his face, and a strength returned to him. Abruptly, he was at the source of the light, at the cave's entrance, a hole barely large enough for him to squeeze through. The blinding light of day fell upon him like a gigantic, crashing sea wave. He closed his aching eyes and fell to the side of the rock-strewn hill, sucking the clean sweet air deep into his lungs.

Edward W. Ludwig (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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Short Snorter

Short Snorter by Charles Einstein - His saucer was parked in the woods, and Mr. Steariot (from Venus) was parked in the lobby.... Three paths led through the woods away from the resort hotel, and of the three two were clearly marked: one with a sign that said it led to the lake, the other pointing toward the golf links. The third pathway was unmarked, and this was the one that inevitably the lovers and the honeymooners took—the path that Alice and Fred Daniels followed today. The sun was unusually warm for this time of year, but only a few yards along the pathway Fred and Alice were swallowed up by the great and near-great trees of the forest. The sunlight was, except for an occasional patch of light here and there, warded away by the foliage above. The forest was very quiet. The pathway bridged a silent brook, and then, perhaps a third of a mile into the woods, turned abruptly to the left and the woods became even more dense, the pathway narrow. Through the trees to the right at this point was a clearing, an unusual grassy circle perhaps sixty yards in diameter. It was not the clearing itself, however, but, instead, the glint of color in the sunlight that caused Fred and Alice to stop and look. Alice said, 'Fred, what is that?' 'Don't know,' he said. 'Something red. Let's look.' The two of them turned off the path and made their way through a dismal barrage of thicket to the clearing that lay beyond. When they got there, they saw the circular object—vehicle might be a better word. It was possibly fifteen yards in diameter. It seemed to be made of three rings, smaller ones bottom and top and the larger one ribbing the center, and to be constructed of some kind of plastic. Between the central and upper rings were set a series of small windows. The entire thing was painted a gaudy red. 'What do you think it is?' Fred said.

Charles Einstein (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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Audiobooks Narrated by Scott Miller