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Analog Science Fiction and Fact Page 27

by January February 2018 (pdf)


  Apex 2017 , an update of her Analog novel,

  for a dating service where they got a choice of

  An Old-Fashioned Martian Girl . It is a sequel

  only f ive girls, I don’t much want to meet

  to her novelette, “Mars Is no Place for Chil-

  them.” She suddenly shrieked and started run-

  dren,” which won the 2000 Nebula. Her

  ning down the path, Jerry hot on her heels.

  Lovers & Killers won the 2013 Elgin Award.

  “Five colors of cars! Clothes that don’t fit! No

  She has been a finalist on the British Science

  weird flavors of pop or tea or ice cream!”

  Fiction, Stoker, Dwarf Stars, and Rhysling

  Charlize, who had been wandering around

  ballots. Her work has appeared in Analog,

  in a funk, met them at the door.

  Asimov's, F&SF, Goblin Fruit, Ikarie, Strange

  “You’ll never guess what they want me to

  Horizons , and other magazines and antholo-

  do,” said Lorilee.

  gies, and has been translated into French,

  “Oh, I can guess. How many beaux did they

  Mandarin, Italian, Czech, German, and

  offer you? Ten? Seven?”

  Russian. Sweet Poison , with Marge Simon,

  Lorilee held up five fingers.

  won the 2015 Elgin Award. Another collabo-

  “Only f ive? Jerry, our old house still hasn’t

  ration with Simon, Satan’s Sweethearts , was

  sold. I think this one would sell easy.”

  published in 2017. Bonsai Babies, a dark SF-

  “But they liquidated all our furniture!” Jerry

  fantasy short story collection, came out in

  moaned. “That weird old hutch decorated

  2016. A founding member of the Mars Soci-

  with cartoons of historical characters board-

  ety, she lives in Berea, Ohio, with her NASA

  ing the space shuttle! The chair upholstered

  scientist- Analog -author husband, Dr. Geoffrey

  with fabric illustrated with Hindu gods! The

  Landis. She represented the US in the Veteran

  footstool with hand-carved gnomes we found

  World Championships in foil fencing in Stral-

  in a garage sale in Parma!”

  sund, Germany, in in 2016.

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  94

  MARY A. TURZILLO

  Ten and

  Ten

  Alan Dean Foster

  he had named him Vegas, and as they

  parrotf ish, jewel-like boxf ish. In color and

  studied each other, he lived up to the

  shade they outdid the magnif icently painted

  name.

  corals themselves. The reef was a riot of shat-

  S Claire could think of no particular tered rainbow, fragments of living stained reason he suddenly began flashing, replacing

  glass in constant motion—Nature’s palette at

  the normal russet-orange coloration of his

  its most diverse and dramatic.

  cylindrical body with streaming bands of elec-

  It’s easy to get to Blupblup, she’d told the

  tric blue and gold in an effortless dazzling dis-

  slack-jawed back home whenever they asked

  play that would have put the finest neon sign

  where she was working. Go to Karkar and

  to shame. He wasn’t trying to hypnotize her

  turn left at Bagabag. The population in this

  as he would a prospective meal. At f ive feet

  part of the north coast of Papua New Guinea

  long and twenty-f ive pounds, he was inca-

  was small and scattered, and there was no

  pable of taking on a fully grown human fe-

  commercial fishing. A perfect location for the

  male. Nor was she his natural prey.

  underwater research station. Support person-

  After a minute or so, the chromatophoric

  nel excepted (all of whom were contracted

  strobing ceased, and he reverted to his much

  for long hauls), the majority of the researchers

  duller everyday hue. Had he been trying to

  came and went for one- or two-month stays.

  communicate? She’d spent six months and

  Now in her sixth month, she was considered

  three university grants trying to answer that

  obsessed by her peers. Though she preferred

  question. Not for the f irst time, she sighed

  “passionate,” she didn’t deny their allegations.

  into her facemask.

  And to think it had all started with counting

  Vegas was a giant Pacif ic cuttlef ish and

  fingers.

  maddeningly unforthcoming.

  She had ten. A cuttlef ish had ten. No one

  Below and around them the pristine coral

  argued that cuttlef ish, especially the larger

  reefs of Blupblup Island carouseled with fish.

  species, carried out a form of basic communi-

  The majority were common tropicals: purple

  cation via color and pattern change in their re-

  anthias, striped angelf ish, exquisitely tinted

  markable skin. Could these cephalopods,

  TEN AND TEN

  95

  ANALOG

  representatives along with squid and octopi

  tlef ish was f loating just above the reef edge,

  and nautilus, be taught to communicate using

  relaxing in the sun. One was pretending to ig-

  their flexible limbs? Ten and ten, she had re-

  nore a wandering Moorish idol, hoping it

  peated to herself hundreds of times as a grad

  might swim within grasping range. Suddenly

  student at university. A simplicity worth fol-

  both cephalopods turned white. White as pa-

  lowing up.

  per. White as the keys on a new piano.

  So here she was, recipient of a reluctant

  Vegas noticed the change immediately, los-

  third consecutive grant, trying to teach a giant

  ing his usual russet hue as his body similarly

  Pacific cuttlefish named Vegas the most basic

  blanked. Claire knew that for giant cuttlefish,

  gestures of standardized American Sign Lan-

  white was a signal for danger. The two Sepia

  guage. Who better than she? Who else boast-

  above were flashing a warning. A moment lat-

  ed a degree in oceanography from Scripps and

  er, they vanished across the top of the reef in a

  had been stone deaf until the age of twelve,

  flurry of latitudinal fins. As they did so, Claire

  when technology and surgery had combined

  felt a brief, slight pressure against her chest. It

  to restore slightly more than half her hearing?

  was the sharp pulse from Vegas’s siphon as he

  It was more than a little ironic, she knew,

  blasted away. She had a last glimpse of him as

  that her subject could probably hear better

  he disappeared around a corner of the reef.

  than she could.

  What . . . ?

  She counted it a success that Vegas contin-

  Out of the right portion of her three-sided

  ued to tolerate her, though it hardly constitut-

  mask, she saw a pair of f igures swimming

  ed any
kind of breakthrough. Cuttlefish were

  back toward the complex. They had been

  frequently territorial. He might well have con-

  spear f ishing, she saw as she turned toward

  tinued to hang around this part of the reef no

  them. This was permitted: in an area as re-

  matter who came to visit. It was difficult not

  mote as northern PNG, anything that supple-

  to anthropomorphize him. His kind were such

  mented a canned diet was welcome. A little

  curious creatures. As she maintained her body

  f ishing had essentially no impact on the

  in horizontal position a yard or so above the

  healthy reef population. Speared f ish trailed

  reef, it troubled him not at all to hover a few

  from each diver’s respective catch lines. Most

  feet in front of her mask, gazing back at her

  were silver and red, colors that nearly always

  out of eyes as beautiful as they were complex.

  indicated an absence of toxic ciguatera and

  She would waggle her fingers at him, spend-

  that the fish in question were safe to eat.

  ing weeks striving to get him to recognize and

  From the end of one line—eyes fixed, ten-

  reproduce the word for “hello.” Just “hello.”

  tacles limp—trailed a dead Sepia.

  And when her dive computer eventually sig-

  Beyond angry, she shot toward them, kick-

  naled that it was time to return to the research

  ing as hard as she could. Espying her ap-

  station, she would give him the sign for

  proach, the nearest diver welcomed her with

  farewell.

  a friendly wave. He backed off in surprise as

  Those ten tentacles moved lazily in the wa-

  she f lailed both hands at his face, conveying

  ter, but they never twisted into any shape re-

  her anger without making physical contact.

  sembling the two words on which she

  Plainly baff led by her reaction, the two men

  focused.

  exchanged confused glances. Eventually she

  Time, she felt. All she needed was time. The

  ceased gesturing. Reaching down toward one

  grants might stop at any moment, especially if

  line, she cupped the body of the dead cuttle-

  she couldn’t report real progress. Complicat-

  fish in both hands. The sucker-lined tentacles

  ing her efforts was that Sepia apama did not

  hung loose in the water like drifting seaweed.

  live longer than two years. It was immensely

  Now stilled, the elegant lateral f ins moved

  frustrating. A human child could learn sign

  only with the motion of the water. No longer

  language. Yet here she was expecting more

  pumped by the animal’s three hearts, a small

  than that from one of the most bizarre-looking

  trickle of green-blue blood leaked from the

  creatures in the sea.

  holes where the steel spear had pierced the

  A glance upward showed the rippling mir-

  tough body all the way through. Feeling tears

  ror that was the surface. It was growing late,

  welling up inside her mask, she held the

  and she should be getting back. A pair of cut-

  corpse up toward the man who had killed it.

  96

  ALAN DEAN FOSTER

  JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2018

  He nodded understandingly and with his

  happy idiots were out prowling with their

  right hand, made vigorous chopping motions.

  spears? What then?”

  Even in the absence of a kitchen, his intent

  Madison rubbed his nose with the back of

  was quite clear.

  his right hand, lifted it to stroke his shaved

  Whirling, she released the body and headed

  head, and leaned back in his chair. “You really

  for the station. At the bottom of the cylindrical

  think you’re going to get another grant, Claire?

  access module, she turned upward, kicking un-

  You’ve got two more weeks . . . less than two

  til she broke the surface inside. The dive tech

  weeks . . . and unless your grant is renewed for

  who assisted her in removing her gear took

  a fourth time, you’re out of here.” He cocked

  one look at the expression on her face and

  his head slightly to one side and stared at her

  chose not to ask her how her dive had gone.

  hard. “You’re as dedicated a researcher as any-

  After drying off and changing into shorts

  one I’ve had at the station, Claire, but insofar

  and a fleece shirt, she strode purposefully to

  as I’ve heard, you’re not making any serious

  the small pneumatically powered elevator.

  progress. Hell, unless I’ve missed a report,

  The research facility had only five levels, and

  you’re not even making slight progress.” His

  she could have walked up, but at that moment

  gaze didn’t waver. “It’s an interesting premise,

  she didn’t want to have to deal with any of her

  but it’s a dead end. You need to accept that.”

  regular acquaintances.

  “It’s a matter of repetition,” she muttered,

  The uppermost level, Space Terrestrial, led

  turning away from him because she was un-

  to the ramp that connected the station to the

  able to refute his conclusion. “A breakthrough

  nearby island. Space Habitat 2, 3, and 4 de-that will have to come by rote. It will come,

  marcated the respective three submerged

  some day. I’m convinced of it.” Looking back

  working and living levels of the research com-

  at him she held up both hands, fingers spread

  plex.

  wide. “Ten and ten.”

  The lowermost level, Space Marine, was

  One hand f iddled idly with some papers,

  the one through which she had just reentered

  making a faux show of rearranging them.

  the world of air-breathers.

  “Yes, I’ve read your field work. But be honest

  Madison was in his office and turned from

  with yourself, Claire; you’ve been at this for

  the computer attached to the curving wall

  nearly six months without any kind of verif i-

  when she barged in. He maintained his smile

  able steps forward. Your principal subject, this

  even after he caught her expression.

  Vegas, was a mature male when you started

  “Hi Claire. Something the matter?”

  working with him, wasn’t he?”

  “I’ll say something’s the matter!” Breathing

  She nodded, chewing her lower lip, know-

  hard, unable to stay still, she strode back and

  ing where he was going.

  forth in front of him, trying to catch her

  “How much longer can you expect him to

  breath while assembling her thoughts. “I’ve

  live?” Madison was being quite earnest now;

  just come back in.”

  brutally earnest and completely honest. In oth-

  “I know,” he said, trying to calm her. “I can

  er words, he was being a scientist. “Do you re-

  tell by the rosy salt water glow in your

  ally think you can m
ake the first breakthrough

  cheeks.”

  in interspecies communication with a subject

  She halted directly in front of him. They

  so different from a human being—so different

  were nearly the same size: professional divers

  from a vertebrate—that you have to teach

  tend to run small. “This isn’t funny, Carl!”

  from scratch? One that might have lived only

  With a nod she indicated the nearest port, be-

  live a few months after you initiated work

  yond which a small school of silvery jacks was

  with it?”

  just passing. “Somebody just killed one of my

  “I can’t extend cephalopod life. Maybe

  Sepia!”

  someday someone will.” Her eyes snapped

  He pursed his lips. “One of ‘your’ Sepia,

  back to meet his. “They’re so damn smart,

  Claire? I wasn’t aware you had placed a claim

  Carl. An octopus can learn to open a jar or

  on anyone besides your special Vegan.”

  climb out of its aquarium to inspect its exter-

  “Vegas,” she corrected him angrily. “What if

  nal surroundings. Imagine, just imagine, if we

  it had been Vegas? What if I hadn’t been out

  could somehow tweak their biology so that

  working with him when these two trigger-

  they lived even ten years! Not to mention

  TEN AND TEN

  97

  ANALOG

  what they might accomplish if they were giv-

  months of hard work. Six months of sucking

  en a human lifespan.”

  air through a regulator and staring inter-

  He shrugged. “A f ine thought. A noble

  minably, pointlessly at a . . . well, at least not at

  thought. But one requiring the kind of biolog-

  a fish.

  ical knowledge and ability to manipulate ge-

  One last time she made the farewell sign.

  netic material that we just don’t have yet.” He

  One f inal time she methodically, patiently,

  indicated the port. “Even if it existed, it’s un-

  moved her gloved f ingers. Then she turned

  likely working with cephalopods would be its

  and kicked back in the direction of the station,

  first application. As for the two divers you’re

  leaving the melted crayon-colored slope of the

  so angry at, I think I know who they are. Cou-

  reef behind. She would write the paper, any-

  ple of turtle specialists just arrived from

  way, she told herself. Properly committed,

  Cairns. I’ll talk to them, explain your work

  conf irmed absence of proof of a hypothesis

  here, and see if they can hold off making any

  constituted as valid a PhD thesis as one that

 

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