May use any

Grossout (nasty fun with 3D food printing)

Jello heart from FlickrEach printed meal offered four bites per player. When you were targeted, you had to eat two bites and hold it down for one whole minute and then eat the last two bites before another minute had passed. Some items were so nasty the minute made the player realize he never wanted to eat the stuff again and then couldn't wolf it down before the rest of the time ran out - even if they were willing to try!

CryptoDNA

Microscopic view of a virusHis alarm sounded, followed by three pings to let him know that many messages were waiting. Jack rolled over, grabbing his phone off the stand and heading for the toilet. Blinking, he palmed his right eye. It was hazy, like a filmy shower door.

Taking a seat, Jack's stomach rumbled and a tension headache was working up his neck. The flu? he wondered, but a quick review of his phone's health sensors didn't show anything of concern. They weren't infallible, but they'd catch any substantial temperature increase.

Jack thumbed up the first message and squinted. Rsrv @ Ice House 8:30. Dinner with his brother, Earl. He flipped it to his calendar and pulled up the next as his stomach made a fuss. Package printed, ready for shipping. Track via Y8DK848785984. He tapped the code and it shot offscreen to his tracking software. His stomach emptied so hard he shivered.

The Escape

Bring Back Our GirlsAbeo heard and felt her phone signaling. Not the ringing of a call or vibration of an update, but the signal of alarm. Around her, the other girls in her school pulled out their phones to read the same message. The conversations of the cafeteria grew raucous, as if quiet was really possible in a school at lunch, and teachers began to usher everyone towards the parking lot.

Buses were being started outside, starters cranking antiquated engines to life. While some technologies had made it to their corner of the world, gas and diesel engines remained the norm for at least a bit longer. Electricity was now everywhere with solar panels costing very little for a day's energy, but vehicles with batteries went to regions with more money to pay for them.

Overhead, small flocks of drones buzzed to the sky taking a quick reconnaissance of everything that moved - even in their part of Africa, nearly anything that moved was tracked in some way. Abeo climbed into the front seat and waited while the bus filled with her peers. She pulled up the pages linked from the warning and, reading between the lines of governmental jargon, discovered that suspected terrorists were blitzing their small city.

Can technology help dementia sufferers maintain independence?

Elderly woman with hands over faceWhile medicine looks for both the cause and cure of dementia, millions of elderly around the world begin feeling the symptoms every year. New technologies, some existing now and some maturing towards consumer products, offer not only real-time information, they also include ways to inject this information into human interaction with their surroundings. Visual overlays in Google Glass, context aware assistive services such as Google Now, and our ever-present GPS location awareness can combine to provide supportive interactions with our world.

While these advancements are being developed for mass consumer adoption, they can also provide support for individuals who live with limitations such as dementia. I've been working on some ideas on how our elderly might use these devices, struggling to get traction beyond what is easily described and would be used by individuals, whether healthy or dealing with dementia. Then I recently heard about VocalID, a group collecting a range of human voices for the use of those without a voice of their own. In the past, individuals unable to speak were limited to a very small set of digital voices - most of them identical to the voice used by Stephen Hawking. To provide semi-unique voices, Dr Rupal Patel founded the Communication Analysis and Design Laboratory (CadLab) and the VocalID organization - the latter which collects 2-3 hours of donor voices to provide options for individuals suffering from severe speech impairment.

Fresh, Handmade, and Printed

A burritoGabe set her tortilla on the printer bed and shut the door. Ready to build the burrito, several systems came online at once. The printer began to heat the tortilla while printing the artificial chicken from proteins and dehydrated chicken broth directly on the bread. Another system prepared the rice, force hydrating each kernel with a mixture designed to taste like cilantro and lime. The kidney beans were printed around the chicken once those protein pieces were completed and warming. The guacamole was a special selection, frozen in small dots and extruded through a tube from the freezer. The cheese, given Jenn's issues with dairy, was printed from a non-dairy material.

Your Drone is Ruining my Buzz

Camera droneJester slid the door open and headed for the pool. Nothing like baking in the sun to cure a hangover - if your shades are dark enough and the splif is big enough. His feet danced a bit on the hot concrete, but it still felt good when the rays hit his back.

Sucking in some smoke, he held it in his lungs an extra few seconds before coughing it out. The chemicals hadn't hit yet, but his body knew to relax - help was on the way.

Familial harmony in a minivan with a space next to the park

Vanagon on beachWhen his grandparents decided to move to the city, they did so for the future of their children. The farm kept them fed and clothed, but the lifestyle seemed stagnant enough to keep their children's children's children poor. It was a growing issue when compared to the rising wealth of the cities, where they decided life offered more opportunity. They moved as a family, three generations together.

Faking nature

Sim wiped his face with a barely damp cloth, the dry edges scratching at his stubble. Each time he did, the act wasted some of his hydration allowance.  But it felt good. It felt real. It was something he would have done back home, back on Earth.

"Sunlight." The room lights brightened and adjusted the spectrum. Dingy white walls, furniture and cloth changed hue with an orange-red tint.  He looked around, taking in his quarters and trying not to shiver at the closeness of the walls.

Lantessa's Release

“Just because the contract allowed you to wriggle between my thighs does not make us friends or require I spend time with you and yours.” Lantessa knew her voice was louder than the norm, but she was frustrated. Pregnant and frustrated and tired and wanted her ‘husband’ to go away and leave her to her day.

She wouldn’t look at him, but the darkened skin of the dome clearly reflected his stance and mood. Regigul looked away, feigning reflection or composure or possibly, though she didn’t think it possible, an inner dialogue.

“Tessie, as your husband…”

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