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    Galaxy’s Edge Magazine: Issue 17, November 2015: Galaxy's Edge, #17
    Galaxy’s Edge Magazine: Issue 17, November 2015: Galaxy's Edge, #17
    Galaxy’s Edge Magazine: Issue 17, November 2015: Galaxy's Edge, #17
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    Galaxy’s Edge Magazine: Issue 17, November 2015: Galaxy's Edge, #17

    By David Drake, Pat Cadigan and Jody Lynn Nye

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    About this ebook

    A Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy

    ISSUE 17: November 2015

    Mike Resnick, Editor

    Jean Rabe, Assistant Editor

    Shahid Mahmud, Publisher

    Stories by: Josh Vogt, Sabina Theo, David Drake, Eric Cline, Jody Lynn Nye, Eric T. Reynolds, Paul Di Filippo, Alvaro Zinos-Amaro, David G. Blake,  Pat Cadigan, Stewart C. Baker

    Serialization: Reboots by Mercedes Lackey and Cody Martin

    Columns by: Barry Malzberg, Gregory Benford

    Book Reviews: Jody Lynn Nye and Bill Fawcett

    Interview: Joy Ward interviews Terry Brooks

    Galaxy’s Edge is a bi-monthly magazine published by Phoenix Pick, the science fiction and fantasy imprint of Arc Manor, an award winning independent press based in Maryland. Each issue of the magazine has a mix of new and old stories, a serialization of a novel, columns by Barry Malzberg and Gregory Benford, book reviews by Jody Lynn Nye and Bill Fawcett and an interview conducted by Joy Ward.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPhoenix Pick
    Release dateOct 27, 2015
    ISBN9781612422916
    Galaxy’s Edge Magazine: Issue 17, November 2015: Galaxy's Edge, #17
    Author

    David Drake

    David Drake (born 1945) sold his first story (a fantasy) at age 20. His undergraduate majors at the University of Iowa were history (with honors) and Latin (BA, 1967). He uses his training in both subjects extensively in his fiction. David entered Duke Law School in 1967 and graduated five years later (JD, 1972). The delay was caused by his being drafted into the US Army. He served in 1970 as an enlisted interrogator with the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, the Blackhorse, in Viet Nam and Cambodia. He has used his legal and particularly his military experiences extensively in his fiction also. David practiced law for eight years; drove a city bus for one year; and has been a full-time freelance writer since 1981, writing such novels as Out of the Waters and Monsters of the Earth. He reads and travels extensively.

    Read more from David Drake

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      Book preview

      Galaxy’s Edge Magazine - David Drake

      ISSUE 17: NOVEMBER 2015

      Mike Resnick, Editor

      Jean Rabe, Assistant Editor

      Shahid Mahmud, Publisher

      Published by Arc Manor/Phoenix Pick

      P.O. Box 10339

      Rockville, MD 20849-0339

      Galaxy's Edge is published in January, March, May, July, September and November

      Galaxy’s Edge is an invitation-only magazine. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts. Unsolicited manuscripts will be disposed of or mailed back to the sender (unopened) at our discretion.

      All material is either copyright © 2015 by Arc Manor LLC, Rockville, MD, or copyright © by the respective authors as indicated within the magazine. All rights reserved.

      This magazine (or any portion of it) may not be copied or reproduced, in whole or in part, by any means, electronic, mechanical or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

      ISBN (Digital): 978-1-61242-291-6

      ISBN (Paper): 978-1-61242-290-9

      SUBSCRIPTION INFORMATION

      To subscribe to the digital (EPub, MOBI or PDF) edition, visit www.weightlessbooks.com.

      To subscribe to the paper edition visit www.GalaxysEdge.com/sub.htm.

      ADVERTISING INFORMATION

      Advertising is available in all editions of the magazine. Please contact advert@GalaxysEdge.com.

      FOREIGN LANGUAGE RIGHTS

      Please refer all inquiries pertaining to foreign language rights to:

      Spectrum Literary Agency

      320 Central Park West, Suite 1-D

      New York, NY 10025

      Phone: (1)-212-362-4323

      Fax: (1)-212-362-4562

      www.spectrumliteraryagency.com

      LIST OF CONTENTS

      THE EDITOR'S WORD by Mike Resnick

      FROM THE MOMENT I LAID EGGS IN YOU by Josh Vogt

      KILL ME! by Sabina Theo 

      OUT OF AFRICA by David Drake

      ELIZABETHTOWN by Eric Cline

      WAIT ’TIL NEXT YEAR by Jody Lynn Nye

      MY FIRST DUTY by Eric T. Reynolds 

      THE MOOD ROOM by Paul Di Filippo

      THE ROSE IS OBSOLETE by Alvaro Zinos-Amaro 

      WINTER OF THE SCAVENGERS by David G. Blake 

      THE POWER AND THE PASSION by Pat Cadigan 

      FUGUE IN A MINOR WAY by Stewart C. Baker 

      BOOK REVIEWS by Bill Fawcett and Jody Lynn Nye 

      LIVING ON THE LESSER LIGHT THAT RULES THE NIGHT by Gregory Benford (column) 

      FROM THE HEART’S BASEMENT by Barry N. Malzberg (column) 

      THE GALAXY’S EDGE INTERVIEW Joy Ward interviews Terry Brooks

      REBOOTS by Mercedes Lackey and Cody Martin

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      PHOENIX PICK PUBLISHES NEW STORIES AND CLASSIC REPRINTS FROM AUTHORS LARRY NIVEN, MERCEDES LACKEY, ERIC FLINT, KEVIN J. ANDERSON, MIKE RENSICK, ROBERT A. HEINLEIN, NANCY KRESS, HARRY TURTLEDOVE AND MANY MORE.

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      Tau-150 Star Warlock Hamilton Arm

      THE EDITOR'S WORD

      by Mike Resnick

      Welcome to the seventeenth issue of Galaxy’s Edge. I hope you’re among the three or four thousand fans who stopped by our table at the recently concluded Worldcon, and if you’re reading these words, I assume we made a favorable impression.

      This issue features new stories by Eric Cline, Sabina Theo, Eric T. Reynolds. Stewart C Baker, David G. Blake, Alvaro Zinos-Amaro, Josh Vogt, plus reprints by old friends Pat Cadigan, David Drake, Paul di Filippo, Jody Lynn Nye, Mercedes Lackey and Cody Martin. In addition we’ve got our book reviews by Bill Fawcett and Jody Lynn Nye, our science column by Gregory Benford, our whatever-he-feels-like-writing-about column by Barry Malzberg, and Joy Ward’s interview this month is with Terry Brooks.

      We’re pretty proud of it, and we hope you like it too.

      * * *

      The following is the second of four columns I wrote for The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction almost twenty years ago, pointing out treasures in the dealers’ room that some newcomers may have missed. Most of them are available for a pittance or two, and with two more decades of new readers, it’s just as relevant today.

      * * *

      Thanks to all of you who took the trouble to send letters or e-mail commenting on the first column in this series.

      A few of you wanted to know what I had against Heinlein, Asimov, and Clarke, since I didn’t recommend any of their books.

      The answer, of course, is Nothing. Check the title again: I’m recommending forgotten treasures of science fiction and fantasy, books a lot of you may never have encountered. Just about every word of fiction written by Heinlein, Asimov, and Clarke is still in print, and if you’re reading this magazine, you certainly don’t need me to point out that The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, The Caves of Steel, and Childhood’s End are pretty good reading.

      You may need me to tell you a little something about the late Clifford D. Simak’s Way Station, and that’s a pity, because even being a Hugo winner by one of our field’s giants hasn’t kept it continuously in print.

      Simak was a long-time editor of the Minneapolis Star who broke into science fictional print in 1931 and stuck around through 1986. He was a very gentle man, and in a field noted for thud and blunder, he wrote very gentle stories.

      Way Station concerns Enoch Wallace, who didn’t die in the Civil War, and may now be well over a century old, though he appears to be a young, healthy man to his neighbors, all of whom are perfectly content not to pry into his life.

      The United States government doesn’t share that attitude, and when the corpse of an alien is discovered in a nearby grave, Wallace—who is the keeper of a galactic way station for equally gentle aliens who are traversing the cosmos—must find a way to hold the government at bay without revealing any of the secrets with which he has been entrusted.

      A beautiful and moving book, showing Simak at the peak of his formidable powers.

      * * *

      Whenever someone asks me for a science fiction novel to stir the interest of a young reader, I don’t give the usual answer, which is to send him searching for generic Robert A. Heinlein or Andre Norton juveniles.

      Instead, I always suggest one title, with an explanation that if the kid likes Star Trek, maybe he’d like to see where most of the format came from. These days I add that if he liked Alien, maybe he’d also like to see where the alien was borrowed from. (Yes, I can say that; the author received a settlement from the movie’s producers.)

      The book is Voyage of the Space Beagle, and the author is the most recent recipient of the Nebula Grandmaster Award, A. E. van Vogt.

      The plot is really quite simple: the Space Beagle, populated by military and scientific personnel, is charged with exploring the galaxy—and it runs into a seemingly-endless series of BEMs (Bug-Eyed Monsters, for the uninitiated), each more dangerous than the last.

      The two most memorable are Coeurl and Ixtl, and in the five- plus decades since they menaced the Space Beagle, no one has improved upon them.

      Great fun.

      * * *

      Time for a confession. I liked the late John Brunner personally—but I didn’t like his writing very much. Just not to my taste. It happens; you can’t like every book you read. Or every writer.

      Anyway, hang on to that revelation, while I tell you about a totally-neglected Ace Double novel by a totally unknown writer. The author is Keith Woodcott, and the book is I Speak For Earth.

      It’s a wonderful novella about our first alien contact. We know they’re there, they’ve asked to see one representative of our race, and we have no idea what the outcome of this interview (or is it a trial?) might be.

      So what we do is this: we take five men and women of different skills (and nationalities, and outlooks, and prejudices) and find a way to transfer their essences into the head of a sixth man, the best physical specimen of the group. The story concerns the training of this amalgam, and his/its/their eventual confrontation with the aliens. The ending is a lot more cynical and powerful than the typical Ace Double reader had any right to expect.

      I went right out and hunted up Keith Woodcott’s other three Ace books. They weren’t quite as good as this one—which, trust me, is award quality—but they were all pretty damned good.

      You could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out, some years later, that Keith Woodcott was a pen-name John Brunner used for his grind-them-out-for-money novels.

      * * *

      Why do fine writers speak of Stanley Weinbaum’s A Martian Odyssey in tones of awe, or at least deep respect? After all, it’s a pulp story by a pulp author, and it didn’t have any plot, so what’s the big fuss?

      For the answer to that, you have to pick up his collection, A Martian Odyssey, and remember that prior to the appearance of these stories, most aliens were written on about the level of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Martians—either identical to humans except for skin color, or physical grotesques that nonetheless had goals and attitudes (and speech patterns) that were identical to those of the human characters. Or else—and perhaps most often —they were purple people eaters.

      What Weinbaum gave us were alien aliens. The most memorable is Tweel, who almost makes sense, and then, just when you and the narrator are sure you’ve got him pegged, he dives 35 feet into the dirt, head-first, with the enthusiasm that most creatures reserve for sex. Then there’s Oscar, the intelligent plant—an Einstein with no sense of self-preservation—from The Lotus Eaters. And there are a host of others, all equally alien.

      Yes, the prose could be a little more elegant, and the plots could be a tad more logical—but in exchange for those lacks you get an arterial infusion of Sense of Wonder. I think you’ll find it’s a fair trade.

      * * *

      So what’s the funniest science fiction novel ever written?

      Easy. It’s Robert Sheckley’s Dimension of Miracles, and, perhaps because I’ve written so much humor myself, I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that it ranks among the half-dozen best novels the field has produced.

      Sheckley wrote a ton of funny stories in the 1950s. He was incapable of writing a dull page, or even an awkward sentence ... but he was just doing what Kuttner and Brown and others had done, only a little better and a lot more often.

      But come the 1960s, and Sheckley started growing as an artist. First there was Journey Beyond Tomorrow, and then Mindswap, both of which built to the absolute genius of Dimension of Miracles, and one day we suddenly realized what he had done.

      John Campbell once said that there was nothing truly new in science fiction, that Doc Smith had given us the stars and we were still waiting for the next breakthrough. Well, Campbell must not have read Dimension of Miracles, for what Sheckley accomplished with this book was to create a knee-slapping, guffaw-out-loud form of humor that only worked as science fiction.

      Think about it. And then hit your paperback resale shop and hunt it up.

      * * *

      Let me tell you about one very accomplished lady—a sweet, friendly, approachable woman whom I still miss.

      Her name was Leigh Brackett, and most of you, if you recognize that name at all, will remember her as the screenwriter for The Empire Strikes Back. This was nothing new; Leigh wrote four or five of John Wayne’s best films, and also co-authored The Big Sleep for Bogart and Bacall.

      She was married to Edmund Hamilton, whose name should be familiar to all of you who still love space operas—after all, he created Captain Future—and despite her Hollywood triumphs, she was first and foremost a science fiction writer.

      She grew up in the pulp era, and was strongly influenced by Edgar Rice Burroughs’ tales of Barsoom. So influenced, in fact, that she created her own Martian hero (Eric John Stark) and her own Martian world—and there’s a strong body of opinion that says she did it even better than Burroughs.

      If you’d like to decide for yourself, the best examples of her Martian tales can be found in an old Ace Double—People of the Talisman on one side, and The Secret of Sinharat on the other. They were reprinted as Eric John Stark: Outlaw of Mars about fifteen years ago. Give ‘em a try.

      * * *

      Some younger readers have the misconception that Gene Wolfe’s brilliant Book of the Long Sun tetralogy was the first to examine the final days of an Earth in the thrall of planetary entropy.

      Actually, nothing could be further from the truth. Jack Vance’s first book, The Dying Earth, was there three decades earlier, with its stunning evocation of a far-future world where magic has replaced science—and wizards, witches, demons and monsters share the stage with roguish princes, princely rogues, and not-so-innocent maidens. The stories that make up the book are almost prose poems, displaying the enormous promise that Vance would deliver upon time after time over the next four decades.

      If you yearn for a fantasy that is neither a Tolkien ripoff nor an unillustrated barbarian killer comic book, don’t pass this one by.

      * * *

      So who is William Tenn and why isn’t he writing a story a month like he did in the Good Old Days?

      Well, who he is is easy: he’s actually a gentleman named Phil Klass. More to the point, he stands, with Robert Sheckley, as one of the two finest satirists of the Galaxy Magazine school. Slick, prolific, witty, sly, mature.

      In 1968 Ballantine brought out a matched set of six William Tenn books, five collections and a novel. Beautiful set of books. Great reading.

      And from that day to this, William Tenn has written two (count ‘em: two) stories. One for an anthology back in 1974, and one for Asimov’s last year.

      I hope he’ll do some more, because based solely on that six- book set, William Tenn is about twenty years overdue to be a Worldcon Guest of Honor, and at least a decade late as a Nebula Grandmaster.

      Any of his collections will delight you, but the one I’m recommending this issue is The Wooden Star.

      Remember A. E. van Vogt’s classic The World of Null-A, about a world based on non-Aristotlean logic? Here you have Tenn’s cynical answer, Null-P, about a world based on non-Platonic logic.

      Do you like stories about con men who sell the Brooklyn Bridge? Then try Betelgeuse Bridge.

      But the masterpiece of the book is a novelette, The Masculinist Revolt, guaranteed to offend feminists and male chauvinists, and delight the hell out of everyone else.

      If you haven’t read Tenn, if you’ve only heard of him, you owe it to yourself to find out what you’ve been missing.

      * * *

      Finally, there’s a fellow out there who actually rode west in a covered wagon. Not as a gimmick or a publicity stunt. As a settler—or the child of one. When the first issue of Amazing Stories reached him, he fell in love with the field and decided that he wanted to spend his life writing science fiction. He sold his first story to Hugo Gernsback in 1928—and he’s still writing today.

      He’s Jack Williamson, the unquestioned Dean of Science Fiction, and he will be happy to point out (but only if asked; he’s an incredibly modest man) that if he has a book come out four years from now, he will have published science fiction in nine different decades.

      His best book isn’t science fiction at all—though partisans of The Humanoids may protest. It’s a fabulous fantasy novel entitled Darker Than You Think. Ostensibly it’s an adventure story about lycanthropy—or, more expressly, the battle for dominance between lycanthropy and humanity. But, because Williamson was never as simple as the magazines he wrote for, in this instance lycanthropy symbolizes freedom—from bodies, from morals, from everything that hinders Man—and the novel, while qualifying as one of the best thrillers in the genre’s history, also examines the price one must pay for that freedom.

      If you’re going to read the Dean—and of course you should —you might as well start at the top, and pick up a copy of Darker Than You Think.

      That’s it until next time. Good luck treasure-hunting—and remember, every one of these books had at least one paperback edition, and should be available for a pittance—or at worst, two pittances—at your local paperback resale shop or the dealers’ room at a nearby science fiction convention.

      J. R. Vogt has recently joined the ranks of the full-time freelancers. This constitutes his twenty-first short story sale, though it’s only his second appearance inGalaxy’s Edge.In May of this year he sold a pair of novels,Forge of Ashesto Paizo andEnter the Janitorto Wordfire (which has since bought hisThe Maids of Wrath).

      FROM THE MOMENT I LAID EGGS IN YOU

      by Josh Vogt

      G reg? We need to talk about what just happened.

      Uh, maybe after we get cleaned up? Could you un-handcuff me from the bed? Feeling a bit drafty.

      This is important. I’ve made a terrible mistake.

      I know we moved fast for a blind date, but...are you crying? What’s wrong? I thought we had fun.

      This...this was my first time.

      What? Why didn’t you tell me? I had—

      And now you’re pregnant.

      —no idea and...say again?

      I laid eggs in you while we had sex.

      Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.

      If I was a human female, you’d be right.

      You’re saying you’re a dude? I beg to differ.

      "No. I’m not human. I belong to an interstellar parasitoid species that uses other intelligent life forms to reproduce."

      Interstellar? Like aliens? Come on. Is para-whatsit even a real word?

      Yes. In Earth terms, you might think of us as...space wasps.

      You look pretty human.

      Mental mimicry projection. You see me as your ideal woman.

      Then what do you really look like?

      You don’t want to know. Trust me.

      You expect me to believe that? If you don’t want to stay the night, fine. Now will you please undo these handcu—oh holy fuck!

      Zzzssorry! I warned you, but you wouldn’t believe me unless…Greg? Please open your eyes. I’m decent again. Promise.

      This…you…not joking. Space wasp.

      You make it sound so negative.

      Oh god...oh god...

      I didn’t mean for this to happen! Most of my kind just impregnate a host and leave in the middle of the night. But from the moment I laid eggs in you, I realized I really liked you. I couldn’t abandon you while your brain gets eaten.

      …eaten?

      Our larvae feed on brain tissue.

      ...all...of it?

      Yes. But during our date, I started seeing you as more than just a potential host. You’re cute and kind and funny. I planned to have a good time and leave. Then we were kissing and my oral ovipositor activated before I could stop it. It triggered your orgasm so you wouldn’t notice, but the roof of your mouth is probably a little sore.

      Now that you mention it. Ow.

      I wish I’d had more self-control. Then you’d have more than two weeks to live.

      W-weeks?

      Once my offspring hatch and start consuming your brain, you’ll go increasingly insane until there’s just nothing keeping you alive.

      Can you take off the handcuffs now? I need to go throw up.

      Stop obsessing over the stupid handcuffs and listen! I’m in major trouble.

      Huh?

      I’ve broken critical hive protocol with you. If they find out, I’ll be banned from breeding forever.

      Wait, what’s the bigger issue here? Losing your space wasp virginity or turning me into a larvae piñata?

      The former, obviously. You’re actually upset about being a host?

      That’s pretty important from my perspective.

      But it’s a beautiful thing to give birth to new life.

      While losing my own!

      I didn’t realize you were so selfish.

      Unbelievable.

      You’re telling me. What am I going to do?

      Look, I don’t want my mind devoured, and you don’t want a bunch of space wasp babies getting you in trouble with your hive, right? Why not just eliminate the eggs?

      Kill my own spawn? Are you insane?

      Not yet, apparently.

      Even if I could fathom such an atrocity, it’d require intensive surgery to remove them. Going to a hospital could expose my species’ existence to the world.

      A risk I’m willing to take.

      But hive protocol—

      Forget your hive. Forget protocol. Can’t you think for yourself, just this once?

      You’re...absolutely right. That’s the perfect solution.

      I am? It is?

      Yes. I’ll start my own hive!

      No! That’s not what—

      I never would’ve dreamt of establishing myself as a queen, but it’s so clear to me now. And it’s so sweet you saw that potential in me.

      You’re not letting me go, are you?

      Aw. You’re even cuter when terrified.

      Help! Someone call the pol—umpff!

      Shh. Don’t be inconsiderate to your neighbors.

      Hgrrm.

      Good point. A hive queen needs more hosts. Fortunately, this apartment complex offers a wide selection.

      Mmf!

      Don’t be jealous. You’ll always have been my first. Now, do you have any more handcuffs lying around?

      Copyright © 2015 by Josh Vogt

      Sabina Theo is a Bulgarian fiction writer and journalist whose stories and articles have appeared throughout Europe and in the United States. This is her second appearance in Galaxy’s Edge.

      KILL ME!

      by Sabina Theo

      To Dona Sadock, this play of light and shadows, passing through eternity!

      Jason was wonderful.

      It would be a cliché to say that I

      Enjoying the preview?
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