future dinners out of your prospective re-
was successful.
search materials.”
Behind her a double line of yellow-striped
“Vegas,” she murmured, “is not ‘material.’”
snappers finned in formation above branching
He frowned. “That kind of humanistic ob-
brown staghorn coral. Like a snaggle-toothed
jectif ication makes for bad science, Claire.
Jack-in-the-box, a gasping green moray
You know that.”
emerged from its hidey-hole to inspect the
“It doesn’t matter.” As she shook her head
world around it while allowing a miniscule
slowly she wasn’t looking at him now. “Like
cleaner shrimp to peck gently at microscopic
you said, my time here is up in less than a cou-
parasites.
ple of weeks. I doubt I’ll get another exten-
High above the moray, the aging example of
sion.” Her tone was bitter. “You’re right about
Sepia apama watched the strange smooth-
that much, Carl.” Turning, she headed for the
skinned shape shrink in the direction of the
portal, pausing once to glance back. “But un-
coral-free reef from which it always emerged
til the day my flight leaves for Moresby, I’m go-
and to which it invariably returned. Four ad-
ing to keep at it.”
joining tentacles on its right side rose and fell
He nodded, trying to sound sympathetic. “I
in unison.
wish you luck. Believe me, no one would love
Glancing back, Claire caught the move-
to see you succeed at this more than I would.”
ment—and froze. Hanging in the water, she
She had no such luck, of course. Another
could only stare.
week f lashed by, marked only by the painful
The gesture was repeated. Four right-side
novelty of a severe storm that cost her two of
tentacles rose up, then bent down. The sign
her precious remaining working days on the
for—goodbye.
reef. Her only consolation as she brooded over
Camera. Where the hell was her camera? As
the looming inevitability of her departure was
she fumbled for the compact video unit she
that after a week’s absence, Vegas came back.
debated whether to remain where she was or
So she had a few f inal days with him. They
return to the traditional observation point. She
were no more fruitful than had been the pre-
started swimming. Not too fast, she prayed.
vious six months.
Not too slow, she hoped.
On the last day she lost it a little bit. Floating
Pausing at the usual distance, she raised the
before that alien, enigmatic invertebrate gaze
camera with her right hand. With her left, she
she abruptly began wildly waving her arms
lifted all four fingers pressed tightly together,
and contorting her body, signing with her
her thumb pressed flat against her palm.
whole being as well as with her hands an ex-
Unblinkingly, Vegas responded. Four right-
tended declaration of frustration. At f irst the
side tentacles up, then down. Remembering
cuttlefish jerked back his tentacles slightly and
to breathe, she checked the camera she had
retreated half a foot. But he did not f lee, did
not had occasion to use in many months. In
not ink. Instead he relaxed and watched, end-
the viewfinder a small red light winked steadi-
lessly curious, interminably unresponsive.
ly back at her, like the eye of the Devil.
Eventually exhausted, she ceased her fruit-
Dead battery.
less gyrations. All done, she knew. All over. Six
A good scientist always, always travels
98
ALAN DEAN FOSTER
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2018
with backup. Hurriedly placing the useless
Alan Dean Foster's sometimes humorous,
unit back into its pouch on her vest, she re-
occasionally poignant, but always entertain-
moved the second. A quick check showed it
ing short fiction has appeared in all the ma-
was half powered: more than enough. Turn-
jor SF magazines as well as in original
ing back to the hovering cuttlef ish, she made
anthologies and several “Best of the Year”
the goodbye gesture once again. It was not
compendiums. His published oeuvre includes
mimicked.
more than 100 books. Foster's work to date
She tried several times more before she no-
includes hard science fiction, fantasy, horror,
ticed that the always fluttering, flowing lateral
detective, western, historical, and contempo-
f ins were not moving. The camera lowered.
rary fiction. He has written numerous nonfic-
Finning forward, she reached out with her
tion articles on film, science, and scuba
free hand. She had never touched Vegas be-
diving, as well as having produced the novel
fore; had never tried to for fear of frightening
versions of many films, including such well-
him off. It was her experience that cuttlefish
known productions as Star Wars, the first
did not like to be touched. But there was no
three Alien films, Alien Nation, The Chronicles objection, no retreat, as she first lightly made
of Riddick, Star Trek, Terminator:Salvation,
contact with the heavy body, then ran her
and both Transformers films. Other works in-
open palm along its ventral side. She pushed,
clude scripts for talking records, radio, com-
gently. The body started to float away. Already
puter games, and the story for the first Star
its healthy reddish-orange color was beginning
Trek movie. His novel Shadowkeep was the
to fade. The eyes, of course, remained open
first ever book adapation of an original com-
and visible; just not moving. Realization made
puter game. His work has been translated
her swallow hard. She could—she would—
into more than fifty languages and won
continue her research. There was no way she
awards in Spain and Russia. His novel Cyber
could cease it now. Even though she would
Way won the Southwest Book Award for Fic-
have to start all over again with another sub-
tion in 1990, the first work of science fiction
ject. Next time with a younger one.
ever to do so. He is the recipient of the Faust,
Vegas truly had been saying goodbye. ■
the IAMTW Lifetime achievement award.
TEN AND TEN
99
Probability Zero
Margin
of Error
Paul Carlson
ames and Dick worked as hard as any
city blocks, and then select for any sort of de-
political advisors before them, with
mographic variable.”
long hours and no days off. It was fortu-
The image vanished. James added, “Here
Jnate for Senator Everyman
that he could we have AI assistants instead of human staff.
afford their services. After all, they’d boosted
They’re quiet, and they never rest.”
the current President of the United States into
“Fascinating,” the immaculately camera-
office. Now, two terms later, a would-be suc-
ready Sincerity opined. “How is the 29th
cessor needed to consult the very best.
Amendment affecting your advisory work?”
Too bad their main opponent, Governor Or-
This time Dick responded. “It’s a great bless-
dinary, soon engaged the services of an up-
ing. Americans wanted a popular national
start rival firm. They’d lose anyway, James and
vote, and a modernized system that’s easy to
Dick determined, and no matter what it took,
use and hard to defraud.”
within the bounds of the law. A field that, to
Dick called up a different screen. “Here are
their delight, included brand-new laws full of
pink states that have online voting, the purple
unforeseen possibilities.
ones allow designated proxies, while those
The men would not, of course, detail any
marked with orange have dropped the voting
such loopholes during the day’s major media
age to sixteen. These green areas have full
interview. Platitudes would suffice!
handicapped access in every precinct.” More
“Your office is more quiet than I’d anticipat-
details followed.
ed,” said CNN anchor Ms. Sincerity. “Most
James concluded the interview. “Ms. Sin-
campaign places are loud, frenetic even, and
cerity, we’ve always enjoyed CNN’s election
this facility seems more like a library.”
night coverage. Now, with a linked system in
“We use projection screens when needed,”
place, we can track every vote in real-time, as
James explained, and with a wave of his hand
soon as the polls close in each state.” With ev-
a richly hued wood panel wall became a vivid
ident admiration, he mentioned several states.
animation of the political landscape. “You see,
“In those places we need not wait until the
we can zoom in on states, districts, zip codes,
polls close. It really does became a horse race,
100
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2018
because everyone can see who’s ahead and
only added to the urgency, and the thrill, of
push for extra turnout.”
this most important of horse races.
With individually customized ads and full
“Time for our last-ditch surprise?” Dick
media saturation, 98 percent of Americans re-
asked James.
ceived James and Dick’s entreaties on behalf
“Let ’em roll,” James agreed. “He’s way too
of Senator Everyman. Unfortunately for them,
cautious, but I just now got an okay from
Governor Ordinary and her team matched
Everyman to fund the effort.”
every effort, and with one week to go, the
Dick released a fleet of self-driving cars.
race tightened to a statistical tie.
These raced to the homes of laggard but well-
Polling margins-of-error shrank, via clever
studied voters. Each vehicle was loaded with
survey questioning and analysis of individual
free electronic merchant coupons, all legal of
voter’s social media posts, to less than .1 per-
course, since not directly tied to an actual
cent. Even this was too loose for the relentless
vote.
advisors.
Eagerly watched minutes counted down,
Finally, election day arrived. No rest for the
and they’d tried everything. Governor Ordi-
weary. The two advisors hadn’t seen daylight
nary countered with creative moves of her
in a week.
own, and nationally the race shoehorned into
“We’re ahead here and here,” Dick indicated
the single digits. James paced, sat down,
to James, “but slipping in these four districts.”
paced again. Dick thumbed through Every-
“Two urban volunteer teams are ready,” said
man’s victory speech, not daring to look at the
James, checking his own maps. “Nine hun-
other, just-in-case version.
dred and some van drivers apiece, and each
The final polls closed. Minutes later, the
ought to be able to ferry a dozen voters to the
complete audited election totals came up. Sen-
polls.”
ator Everyman lost by one vote.
“Over here,” Dick added, “online votes are
James and Dick met each other’s gaze. What
lagging. Federal servers are slow in those ar-
more could they possibly have done? Then,
eas, and also, over six hundred voters report
with dawning horror, both men realized that
home computer problems.”
they themselves had forgotten . . . ■
James stood ready. “We’ve got forty-one
technicians close enough to make house calls,
A Venn diagram which encompasses pro-
and, where allowed, we’ll send in loaner lap-
fessional truck drivers and science fiction
tops, preset to link into the national voting sys-
authors would meet at a very narrow mar-
tem.”
gin, occupied largely by Mr. Carlson. This is
Hour after hour the election results tight-
Paul’s second PZ story in Analog, with simi-
ened, until only one eastern state was left,
lar tales in print from Yard Dog Press. What
polls still open due to a last-minute court or-
that says about his thinking process is uncer-
der. CNN followed closely, and viewers sweat-
tain. He and his lovely wife Fujiko had an
ed as the race narrowed to fewer than one
awesome time at the WorldCon in Helsinki,
hundred votes. By coincidence this occurred
then visited numerous relatives there in the
in the home state of James and Dick, which
old country.
MARGIN OF ERROR
101
One to
Watch
Andrew Barton
wear my loneliness like an old jacket, bat-
mans break the code of the Universe and
tered and ragged with the lining spilling
build ships that make starf light as easy as a
out—the sort of thing no one would ever
stroll to the beach, Mimas is where people
Ichoose, but would wear it out as long as will go to whisper their sins where no one they had it. Autumn is coming, and it gets
will hear, not even God—but I’m sure the old
cold on Mimas.
buzzard wouldn’t listen anyway.
“Don’t be an idiot,” says Anh, my partner
“Why not Mimas?” Anh asks with a frown.
here in Mission Control. It’s just the two of us
“Don’t tell me you’re going to tell him to just
watching over the Herschel rover as it trudges
walk right by.”
across Mimas, a far cry from t
he days when
It’s been minutes—plus the seventy-two
rooms of serious scientists fussed over every
minute radio delay, but that hardly counts—
maneuver, named every speck of dirt, spent
since Herschel stopped on Mimas’ rugged,
days deciding which way the camera should
pencil-grey surface, f lashing the “anomalous
point. “It’s not natural. We can’t just ignore
encounter” code, awaiting instructions.
it!”
I can’t bring myself to believe what it’s see-
Few on Earth care about Mimas, really. The
ing is real.
Zuhal probe had dropped landers on cloudy
Titan, with its freezing winds and methane
When I was a kid, I found a hundred-year-
seas, and Enceladus, spitting out water like
old tombstone, nibbled by acid rain and fold-
God’s own fountain, and Iapetus, which looks
ed in greenery, that carried my name. Would
like aliens glued two different moons togeth-
the same thing happen to me in another cen-
er. Cold little Mimas is an afterthought—all it’s
tury, an entire life distilled into a slab? How
got is a coincidental resemblance to hundred-
close did humanity itself come to that—an en-
year-old space fantasy.
tire species, an entire world ground down
“It can’t be anything,” I say. “On Mimas?
into lunar landing debris and a handful of
Come on.”
probes f lung so deep into the darkness that
It’s a lonely, quiet place. Perhaps once hu-
no one would ever find them again?
102
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2018
Is that what Herschel’s found?
over the next hill, one that leads down to the
“That can’t be right.” My voice is hesitant,
interior ocean no one’s quite sure exists or
but not without cause. Other probes found
not. I make sure Anh doesn’t see the extra in-
squirrel-shaped rocks on Mars, hell, found
structions I send, that for now will stop Her-
what people were desperate to think was a
schel from accepting any commands that
face, built for them by some grander power.
don’t come from me.
“Perspective. Trick of the light.”
“Bullshit!” There’s a sharpness in Anh’s
I go outside into the empty hall. It’s still the
eyes, an iron gaze. “Those are right angles.
same recirculated air that tastes of dust and
You can’t expect me to believe it’s a camera
cracking plaster, yet fresher than what I
glitch!”
breathed in Mission Control anyway. There’s a
Analog Science Fiction and Fact Page 28