The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year-Volume Four by Jonathan Strahan Page B
Authors: Jonathan Strahan
Tags: Science-Fiction
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hypothesis. Hey, Bob, what's that whistle? Well, Fred, it keeps elephants away. Don't be an asshole, Bob, there aren't any elephants around here. Well, Fred, that's because of my whistle .
"Cody." He did his best to look sincere. "I'm so very sorry. I never thought it would work. Not like this. But I do think the antidote might work." His face went back to normal. He hefted the inhaler. "Though before I give it to you, I have a favor to ask."
She stared at him. "On what planet do I owe you anything?"
"For science, then. A follow up scan, and then another after you take the antidote."
"Maybe I won't take it. Give me the info you have. Give me the number."
"Love is a form of insanity, you know."
"The number."
In the other room, the bad singing went on and on.
"Oh, all right. For old time's sake." He extracted a folder from his bag, and a piece of paper from the folder. He slid it across the table towards her, put the inhaler on top of it.
She nudged the inhaler aside, picked up the paper. Hand written. Susana's writing.
"Love's just biochemical craziness," he said, "designed to make us take a leap in the dark, to trust complete strangers. It's not rational."
Cody said nothing.
"She screwed us."
"She screwed you," Cody said. "Maybe she fell in love with me." But she took the inhaler.
Cody sat in the window seat with the phone and the form Susana had filled in. Every now and again she punched in a different combination of the numbers Susana had written and got the Cannot be completed as dialed voice. Every now and again she touched the form with the tip of her middle finger; she could feel the indentation made by Susana's strong strokes. Strong strokes, strong hands, strong mouth.
She didn't think about the grey inhaler in its white box, which she had put in the fridge—to stay viable a long time, just in case.
After a while she stopped dialing and simply waited.
When her phone lit up at 11:46 she knew who it was—even before she saw the 404 area code on the screen.
"Do you feel it?" Susana said.
"Yes," and Cody did. Whatever it was, wherever it came from, it was there, as indelible as ink. She wanted to say, I don't know if this is real, I don't know if it's good. She wanted to ask, Had you ever had sex with anyone for money before me? and Does it matter? She wanted to know, Have you ever loved anyone before? and, How can you know?
She wanted to say, Will it hurt?
Walking through the crowds at the airport, Cody searched for the familiar face, felt her heart thump every time she thought she saw her. Panic, or love? She didn't know. She didn't know anything except that her throat ached.
Someone jostled her with his bag, and when she looked up, there was the back of that head, that smooth brown hair, so familiar, after just one night, and all her blood vessels seemed to expand at once, every cell leap forward.
She didn't move. This was it, the last moment. This was where she could just let the crowd carry her past, carry her away, out into the night. Walk away. Go home. Use the inhaler in the fridge.
That was the sensible thing. But the Cody who had hung from the ninth storey balcony, the Cody who had risked the Atlanta contract without a second thought, that Cody thought, fuck it , and stepped forward.
You couldn't know. You could never know.
THREE TWILIGHT TALES
Jo Walton
Jo Walton was born in Wales and emigrated to Canada in 2002. Her first published novel was The King's Peace , followed by The King's Name . In 2002 she won the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer, and subsequently published two more fantasy novels, The Prize in the Game and World Fantasy Award-winner Tooth and Claw . She then went on to publish her "Small Change" trilogy— Farthing , Ha'penny and Half a Crown . Her most recent novel is Lifelode . She lives with her son and husband in Montreal, Quebec.
1
Once upon a time, a courting couple were walking down the lane at twilight, squabbling. "Useless, that's what
"Cody." He did his best to look sincere. "I'm so very sorry. I never thought it would work. Not like this. But I do think the antidote might work." His face went back to normal. He hefted the inhaler. "Though before I give it to you, I have a favor to ask."
She stared at him. "On what planet do I owe you anything?"
"For science, then. A follow up scan, and then another after you take the antidote."
"Maybe I won't take it. Give me the info you have. Give me the number."
"Love is a form of insanity, you know."
"The number."
In the other room, the bad singing went on and on.
"Oh, all right. For old time's sake." He extracted a folder from his bag, and a piece of paper from the folder. He slid it across the table towards her, put the inhaler on top of it.
She nudged the inhaler aside, picked up the paper. Hand written. Susana's writing.
"Love's just biochemical craziness," he said, "designed to make us take a leap in the dark, to trust complete strangers. It's not rational."
Cody said nothing.
"She screwed us."
"She screwed you," Cody said. "Maybe she fell in love with me." But she took the inhaler.
Cody sat in the window seat with the phone and the form Susana had filled in. Every now and again she punched in a different combination of the numbers Susana had written and got the Cannot be completed as dialed voice. Every now and again she touched the form with the tip of her middle finger; she could feel the indentation made by Susana's strong strokes. Strong strokes, strong hands, strong mouth.
She didn't think about the grey inhaler in its white box, which she had put in the fridge—to stay viable a long time, just in case.
After a while she stopped dialing and simply waited.
When her phone lit up at 11:46 she knew who it was—even before she saw the 404 area code on the screen.
"Do you feel it?" Susana said.
"Yes," and Cody did. Whatever it was, wherever it came from, it was there, as indelible as ink. She wanted to say, I don't know if this is real, I don't know if it's good. She wanted to ask, Had you ever had sex with anyone for money before me? and Does it matter? She wanted to know, Have you ever loved anyone before? and, How can you know?
She wanted to say, Will it hurt?
Walking through the crowds at the airport, Cody searched for the familiar face, felt her heart thump every time she thought she saw her. Panic, or love? She didn't know. She didn't know anything except that her throat ached.
Someone jostled her with his bag, and when she looked up, there was the back of that head, that smooth brown hair, so familiar, after just one night, and all her blood vessels seemed to expand at once, every cell leap forward.
She didn't move. This was it, the last moment. This was where she could just let the crowd carry her past, carry her away, out into the night. Walk away. Go home. Use the inhaler in the fridge.
That was the sensible thing. But the Cody who had hung from the ninth storey balcony, the Cody who had risked the Atlanta contract without a second thought, that Cody thought, fuck it , and stepped forward.
You couldn't know. You could never know.
THREE TWILIGHT TALES
Jo Walton
Jo Walton was born in Wales and emigrated to Canada in 2002. Her first published novel was The King's Peace , followed by The King's Name . In 2002 she won the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer, and subsequently published two more fantasy novels, The Prize in the Game and World Fantasy Award-winner Tooth and Claw . She then went on to publish her "Small Change" trilogy— Farthing , Ha'penny and Half a Crown . Her most recent novel is Lifelode . She lives with her son and husband in Montreal, Quebec.
1
Once upon a time, a courting couple were walking down the lane at twilight, squabbling. "Useless, that's what
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