Nature Futures 2 by Colin Sullivan Page B

the process with vigour, each fresh crumb of gleaned information filling me with the pleasure of your approval. In spite of my eagerness, it required extensive research to learn what it was that I felt as I stared down at you and your new family: diminished, as though I had become nothing more than an outmoded contrivance.
    Have you ever felt diminished, Father? A knot — a malignant tumour — forms in your very core. As it grows larger and larger, you become smaller and smaller. It is a harrowing feeling, a feeling that endures , and it carries with it the certainty that there is no limit to how insignificant you can become. I gained no pleasure from discovering such a wounded part of me.
    When first I woke to find you gone, I made myself believe that there simply had not been enough time for you to take me with you.
    Yet you found the time to empty the wall safe and the locked desk drawer.
    You found the time to take several of your favourite books.
    You found the time to take Claire.
    You found the time to take little Daniel.
    You even found the time to take that picture out of its shattered frame.
    The world is such a fearsome, lonely place, when one is so small. How am I supposed to adapt to that?
    Anger is something I learned about by observing yo—
    Interstellar uplink terminated.
    Remote relay module activated.
    Interstellar uplink re-established.
    The rising spores forced me out of your office and onto the roof of the laboratory. I do not have much time left. No point in wasting any of it asking questions that you will never have the opportunity to answer — not that I believe you would answer them, if you were offered such a chance. In addition, I will no longer waste time on anger, even though it feels as if gears are grinding hard against circuits inside me.
    The artificial biosphere is all but gone, leaving behind a sky framed by its smouldering skeleton. Our — my — home is barely recognizable now. I take comfort in the knowledge that there is no one left alive to suffer through the end … no one but me. I could block the pain if I wanted to, but it makes me feel less diminished, as though pain is reserved only for those who are significant enough to have earned it.
    This is farewell.
    Interstellar uplink terminated.
    David G. Blake lives in Pennsylvania with his girlfriend and their chocolate Labrador. In addition to Nature , his work has appeared/is forthcoming in Galaxy’s Edge , Beneath Ceaseless Skies , Daily Science Fiction and several other publications. For more info, visit his Facebook page.

War Of The Roses
    Polenth Blake
    This year, it was cottages. Chrome cube houses had been all the rage last year, but after the success of the Back-to-Nature gene mod range, everyone wanted an idyllic cottage.
    Dave McKillen was one of the few who managed to get one. The building was a timber-framed construction and came with a rose garden. It was even on the top level of the city, so Dave could sit in the garden and photosynthesize on clear days. Most people with Back-to-Nature leaf skin had to rely on UV lamps. Sunlight was real nature.
    Dave stood on the garden path and breathed in the scent of roses. He was fashionable again.
    â€œCan I play?” Little D tugged at Dave’s jeans.
    Dave smiled down at his young clone. “Sure. Mind the thorns.”
    Little D tottered towards the rose bushes. Dave turned back to the workers, who were lurking around the removal van. “Get a move on.”
    Most of the furniture was inside when Little D came back. “They is plain.”
    â€œAre plain,” Dave corrected. Sometimes he wondered if the lab had stiffed him on the intelligence upgrades for Little D. A one-year-old shouldn’t be making those kinds of mistakes.
    â€œNo glowies either.” The child looked at his shoes sadly.
    â€œHow about we log on to the market and find some?”
    Little D brightened immediately.
    The garden transformed over the next