Year's Best SF 13
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seedship. They can make something of what’s left of the local Kuiper belt, and get the Long Tubes back on stream. Wake me up when it’s over.” “That is very much not it,” said the box. “Not until we know why this happened. Not until we know what’s down there.” “Well, send down some probes.” “I do not have the facilities to make firewalled snoop robots,” said the box, “and other probes could be corrupted. My instructions are to deliver you to any remnant of the Wolf 359 civilization, and that is
spasms and intense pain. This crude weapon was used for crowd control or to subdue suspects of crimes. When Ambassador for the New Humanity Mona Vaidyanathan first visited Steele, she asked what the queer black object was. Steele told her that it had been the most frequent means of communication between his father and himself. “When I was ten years old,” he told her, “within a single month my father used that on me sixteen times.” “That’s horrible,” she said. “Not for a person with a moral
Peril” copyright © 2007 by Marc Laidlaw. First published in Flurb #3, Spring/Summer, ed. Rudy Rucker. “End Game” copyright © 2007 by Nancy Kress. First published in Asimov’s Science Fiction, April/May. “Induction” copyright © 2007 by Gregory Egan. First published in Foundation 100, ed. Farah Mendlesohn and Graham Sleight. “A Blue and Cloudless Sky” copyright © 2007 by Palle Juul Holm. Translation copyright © by Niels Dalgaard. First published in The SFWA European Hall of Fame, ed. James Morrow
she hadn’t noticed, and was through the doorway in one movement. There weren’t any steps, thought Elen. The entrance is supposed to be like that. She tried to copy his action but couldn’t find the handholds. She had to make the same scrambling jump as before; and followed him to the chamber where the partners faced each other, the “wife” poised forever in that gesture of farewell. Emotion recorded in art was the rosetta stone, the only (and frequently deceptive) common language of the Diaspora.
about brain chemistry and its darker side is in the same realm as “Damascus” by Daryl Gregory in Year’s Best SF 12. It is an interesting comparison to Peter Watts’ story found earlier in this book. Allen Dodson was sitting in seventh-grade math class, staring at the back of Peggy Corcoran’s head, when he had the insight that changed the world. First his own world and then, eventually, like dominos toppling in predestined rhythm, everybody else’s, until nothing could ever be the same again.