Posts Tagged "issue 38"
The Silk Merchant
By Ken Liu My father lay dying on the cot, one of many in this draughty poorhouse. His lips trembled in the weak light of the distant fireplace. He was trying to speak, but the moans and groans, the uneasy snores and dream-speech, of all the other men on other cots around us drowned out his voice. I looked at his alcohol-wasted body, angry and disgusted. This man had pawned my mother’s jewels and mortgaged our house, and put all our savings into a trading caravan to the distant island of Arecima to acquire the legendary shimmer silk, supposedly the finest silk in the world. Only one member of the caravan returned alive, a boy. He had brought back nothing but the rags...
Read MoreIronheart
By Alec Austin They cut out Kade’s heart before they sent him to the Front, and in his dreams, he still could feel the scalpel’s blade against his skin. It was far from the worst of his nightmares, but that didn’t stop him from waking in a cold sweat and clutching at his chest. “Dead men shouldn’t scream,” Marya muttered at Kade from the next cot over, her eyes glittering like funeral jade in the bunker’s dimness. “Or have panic dreams, or sweat. You reek, did you know that?” “They were cutting me open,” Kade said, drawing a shuddering breath. When Marya spoke again, her voice was gentler. “You were dead at the time, Kade. Really dead, until they...
Read MoreCoyote Gets His Own Back
By Sarah Monette Luther shot the coyote bitch on Wednesday. She didn’t make a sound, just fell ass over teakettle into the defile, blood blooming across her neck and chest. She was dead—there was no doubt about that, then or later. It put Luther in a foul mood. He’s wild for trophies, is Luther Sibley, even just a skinny coyote bitch, but that defile had pricker bushes that thought they were gonna grow up to be barbed wire, and rattlers liked it. We lost a cow down there every so often—my granny, who was superstitious about that sort of thing, would have called it a bad place, and I didn’t like it myself. Even to Luther, a coyote bitch wasn’t worth...
Read MoreWolf Trapping
By Kij Johnson Richard was recording his entry on the day’s hunt when the wolf’s scream of pain cut through the walls of the cabin. He dropped his pen on the open page. He’d seen a rabbit snare a few weeks ago. The trapper must have returned with traps for the valuable wolves. At least he would get the bastard before he left. He picked up his emergency pack and the Winchester thirty-thirty, and slung them over the parka he wore against the cabin’s cold. He stuffed the handcuffs he’d brought back from Yellowknife into one pocket. The early winter air caught at his lungs when he ran out the cabin’s door. He dropped his bearpaw snowshoes into the snow, stamping...
Read MoreWhat It Is We Miss When We Don’t Read Fanzines
By Christopher J. Garcia Every year, in the spring, there is a ritual. The coming WorldCon announces the Hugo nominees. The ritual is not the announcement, but the reaction. On Twitter, on Facebook, on blogs around the world, the questions appear: Why isn’t name-blogger-x up for Best Fan Writer? or How could the voters not have nominated podcast-y? Every year these questions pop up. In 2011, a few people went so far as to assure their audience that it was all right that they had never heard of any of the Best Fan Writer nominees because they hadn’t heard of them either. This despite the fact that all had written dozens, if not hundreds, of articles for fanzines...
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