The Best Science Fiction & Fantasy of the Year.

by Jonathan Strahan.

Acknowledgements

This year has been a challenging one and getting this book done has been demanding. I doubt you would be holding it now without the determined a.s.sistance of my wife and co-editor Marianne Jablon, who stepped up to the plate and helped get this book ready at the last minute. As always, I'd also like to thank Gary K.Wolfe, whose advice has been invaluable; everyone from Not if You Were the Last Short Story on Earth Not if You Were the Last Short Story on Earth who were my companions again on the journey through the year and provided an invaluable sounding board. I'd also like to thank Howard Morhaim, Jason Williams, Jeremy La.s.sen, Ross Lockhart, Marty Halpern, John Helfers, Martin H. Greenberg, and Gordon Van Gelder. Thanks also to the following good friends and colleagues without whom this book would have been much poorer, and much less fun to do: Lou Anders, Jack Dann, Ellen Datlow, Gardner Dozois, Sean Williams, and all of the book's contributors. who were my companions again on the journey through the year and provided an invaluable sounding board. I'd also like to thank Howard Morhaim, Jason Williams, Jeremy La.s.sen, Ross Lockhart, Marty Halpern, John Helfers, Martin H. Greenberg, and Gordon Van Gelder. Thanks also to the following good friends and colleagues without whom this book would have been much poorer, and much less fun to do: Lou Anders, Jack Dann, Ellen Datlow, Gardner Dozois, Sean Williams, and all of the book's contributors.

As always, my biggest thanks go to my family, Marianne, Jessica, and Sophie. Every moment spent working on this book was one stolen from them. I only hope I can repay them.

INTRODUCTION.

JONATHAN STRAHAN.

In the Australian winter of 1985 I was still at university, pursuing a fairly useless if interesting degree during the day while spending most of my waking hours engaged in an excited, breathless and far more useful discovery of the science fiction field. It was during that time that I encountered my first "best of the year" anthology, a sprawling selection of stories that the editor opened with a careful a.s.sessment of how things were going wrong in SF, or might might be. A boon of some kind, he reported, was be. A boon of some kind, he reported, was possibly possibly coming to an end and there was real fear that bad times might be coming: sales were unreliable, advances were headed south and, in all likelihood, the publishing world would end quite soon. coming to an end and there was real fear that bad times might be coming: sales were unreliable, advances were headed south and, in all likelihood, the publishing world would end quite soon.

Gardner Dozois, for it was he writing in the first of his The Year's Best Science Fiction The Year's Best Science Fiction series (now in its twenty-eighth year), followed that a.s.sessment with two dozen stories-from established writers like Robert Silverberg, Joe Haldeman and Poul Anderson, alongside an incredible array of writers I'd never heard of like Connie Willis, Bruce Sterling, Greg Bear and Kim Stanley Robinson-which rather seemed to make those gloomy a.s.sessments irrelevant. How could a field that was producing stories like "Cicada Queen," "Hardfought," "Carrion Comfort" and "Black Air" be anything other than healthy? series (now in its twenty-eighth year), followed that a.s.sessment with two dozen stories-from established writers like Robert Silverberg, Joe Haldeman and Poul Anderson, alongside an incredible array of writers I'd never heard of like Connie Willis, Bruce Sterling, Greg Bear and Kim Stanley Robinson-which rather seemed to make those gloomy a.s.sessments irrelevant. How could a field that was producing stories like "Cicada Queen," "Hardfought," "Carrion Comfort" and "Black Air" be anything other than healthy?

I could appreciate then, as I do now, that he was talking about the health of the publishing industry as it was experienced by writers writers, rather than the state of the art of SF and fantasy writing as it was experienced by readers readers, but I still did wonder at the time how the caution of the introduction reconciled with the optimism of the story selection.

I was confronted with this myself when, unexpectedly, in the summer of 1997I found myself drafting an introduction to The Year's Best Australian Science Fiction and Fantasy The Year's Best Australian Science Fiction and Fantasy with my co-editor Jeremy G. Byrne and falling into exactly the same kind of a.s.sessment, talking about the publishing business rather than the art. I've now sat down on sixteen separate occasions, both by myself and with others, and I still struggle to balance the urge to talk about the state of the publishing business rather than focus on the year in short fiction, probably because of a simple but fundamental problem: the year in short fiction is barely done and in many ways is too close to meaningfully a.s.sess, even as I attempt to do just that. with my co-editor Jeremy G. Byrne and falling into exactly the same kind of a.s.sessment, talking about the publishing business rather than the art. I've now sat down on sixteen separate occasions, both by myself and with others, and I still struggle to balance the urge to talk about the state of the publishing business rather than focus on the year in short fiction, probably because of a simple but fundamental problem: the year in short fiction is barely done and in many ways is too close to meaningfully a.s.sess, even as I attempt to do just that.

It would be easy to describe the rather shaky state that SF and fantasy finds itself in as the first decade of the twenty-first century draws to a close as uneasy. Advances are are down, sales (especially for short fiction) are down, the midlist (where many fine writers made their livings) is almost completely a thing of the past, booksellers are in trouble and short fiction outlets of all kinds seem to be struggling financially. down, sales (especially for short fiction) are down, the midlist (where many fine writers made their livings) is almost completely a thing of the past, booksellers are in trouble and short fiction outlets of all kinds seem to be struggling financially.

As has been the case in the past, large publishers consolidated, reducing staff and focusing on new opportunities. Random House merged Ballantine and Bantam Dell, HarperCollins rebranded Eos and Voyager, HarperCollins sold its new Angry Robot imprint, as did Games Workshop its Solaris Books imprint. The major North American book chains struggled, with reports popping up throughout the year of both Borders and Barnes & n.o.ble being in various kinds of financial trouble. And magazine Realms of Fantasy Realms of Fantasy, having closed and been rescued in 2009, was sold and rescued again late in 2010.

This was also the year when eBook publishing really took off. Early in the year publishers publicly slugged it out with Amazon over eBook pricing, but that was quickly swept aside when Apple released its iPad in April. Apple sold three million devices in less than three months, and went on to sell more than eight million during the year. Those eight million new, very high profile e-readers were soon joined by new, cheaper iterations of the Kindle, the Nook and others. E-readers seemed to become a desirable thing to own, the next "it" gadget, and eBook sales increased accordingly, with some publishers saying as year's end approached that eBooks accounted for as much as twenty percent of sales.

That was reflected in the decision by ma.s.s market publisher Dorchester to move from traditionally printed books to digital-only editions in August. Perhaps more interesting for SF and fantasy, though, was the comparatively quiet announcement that same month that Gollancz, one of the most respected and important SF imprints in the field, had quietly appointed its first digital publisher. There have been some whispers as to what this might mean for the future, and it's something I for one will be watching with great interest.

But what of the art art of short SF and fantasy? How is of short SF and fantasy? How is that that doing? I can imagine you asking. Well, as I've been saying for close to a decade now, it has become almost impossible to keep track of all of the original short fiction published each year. I don't have the February issue of doing? I can imagine you asking. Well, as I've been saying for close to a decade now, it has become almost impossible to keep track of all of the original short fiction published each year. I don't have the February issue of Locus Locus to hand, but when I last looked they'd reported close to 3,500 new stories had been published in their most recent year of accounting, and I've long felt that underestimated numbers by a factor of four or five. New stories were published in anthologies, collections, magazines (whether printed on paper or presented with pixels) and pamphlets; they came from publishers of all sizes, and they came every single day. One publisher even launched a service that, rather mind-bogglingly, offered a new story every working day (that's 220 per year, or more than the combined output of to hand, but when I last looked they'd reported close to 3,500 new stories had been published in their most recent year of accounting, and I've long felt that underestimated numbers by a factor of four or five. New stories were published in anthologies, collections, magazines (whether printed on paper or presented with pixels) and pamphlets; they came from publishers of all sizes, and they came every single day. One publisher even launched a service that, rather mind-bogglingly, offered a new story every working day (that's 220 per year, or more than the combined output of Asimov's Asimov's, a.n.a.log a.n.a.log, F&SF F&SF, Realms of Fantasy Realms of Fantasy and and Interzone Interzone). Year's best editors whimpered.

While in recent years anthologies seemed to be providing most of our best short fiction, this year the field seemed to level out with a wide variety of venues producing some excellent work, but no single source really dominating. Unlike 2009, though, I probably found more stories I liked in magazines with almost two-thirds of the contents of this book coming from one periodical or another, and just a third coming from the pages of anthologies.

We are early enough in the digital era that we still find ourselves bound, it seems, to discuss whether magazines appear in print or online. This isn't a particularly useful distinction given that at the end of the day a magazine is a magazine and an issue is an issue. That said, the majority of the stories from magazines that I liked came from online sources. Last year Tor.com Tor.com had a particularly strong year, but this year it was had a particularly strong year, but this year it was Subterranean Subterranean that dominated. Editor Bill Schafer produced a terrific mix of fantasy, oddball SF and other stuff, including major stories by Rachel Swirsky, Peter S. Beagle, K. J. Parker, Hannu Rajaniemi and many more. He also reprinted excellent long novellas originally published in book form from the likes of Lucius Shepard and Ted Chiang. It was, on balance, the best single source of top notch fiction in 2010. Veteran that dominated. Editor Bill Schafer produced a terrific mix of fantasy, oddball SF and other stuff, including major stories by Rachel Swirsky, Peter S. Beagle, K. J. Parker, Hannu Rajaniemi and many more. He also reprinted excellent long novellas originally published in book form from the likes of Lucius Shepard and Ted Chiang. It was, on balance, the best single source of top notch fiction in 2010. Veteran Strange Horizons Strange Horizons, which picked up its first World Fantasy Award in October, also had a very strong year with fine stories from the likes of John Kessel, Lavie Tidhar, Sandra McDonald, Meghan McCarron and Theodora Goss. Comparative newcomer Apex SF Apex SF had what was probably its best year yet, publishing some good work including two marvelous fantasies by Ian Tregillis and Theodora Goss. had what was probably its best year yet, publishing some good work including two marvelous fantasies by Ian Tregillis and Theodora Goss. Clarkesworld Clarkesworld, which after Tor.com Tor.com, was easily the best online magazine of 2009, justifiably picked up the Hugo in August and had another strong (if slightly less dominant) year publishing excellent work by Peter Watts, Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Catherynne M. Valente and others. Newcomer Lightspeed Lightspeed, under the able editorship of John Joseph Adams, also began to find its feet across its first half-dozen issues, publishing a terrific story by Genevieve Valentine, and some fine work by Ted Kosmatka, Carol Emshwiller and others.

Of the print magazines, Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine had the best year producing terrific work by established regulars like Robert Reed, James Patrick Kelly, Geoffrey A. Landis and Kij Johnson, alongside newer writers like Sara Genge and Felicity Shoulders. Editor Sheila Williams doesn't really get enough credit for the efforts she's put in over recent years to broaden and re-define had the best year producing terrific work by established regulars like Robert Reed, James Patrick Kelly, Geoffrey A. Landis and Kij Johnson, alongside newer writers like Sara Genge and Felicity Shoulders. Editor Sheila Williams doesn't really get enough credit for the efforts she's put in over recent years to broaden and re-define Asimov's Asimov's but it definitely showed this year. Gordon Van Gelder's but it definitely showed this year. Gordon Van Gelder's Fantasy & Science Fiction Fantasy & Science Fiction had another solid year, with strong stories by Bruce Sterling, Paul Park, John Kessel, Steven Popkes, Ian R. Macleod and newcomer Alexandra Duncan. It remains a reliable source of good fiction. had another solid year, with strong stories by Bruce Sterling, Paul Park, John Kessel, Steven Popkes, Ian R. Macleod and newcomer Alexandra Duncan. It remains a reliable source of good fiction. Interzone Interzone also had a good year, producing two excellent stories by Jim Hawkins, who returned to the magazine with his second and third sales after a thirty-year hiatus. There were many other print magazines published, but these were the ones that struck me as the best. also had a good year, producing two excellent stories by Jim Hawkins, who returned to the magazine with his second and third sales after a thirty-year hiatus. There were many other print magazines published, but these were the ones that struck me as the best.

If anthologies weren't quite as dominant in 2010, that's not to say there wasn't a lot of them and that they didn't contain a lot of fine fiction. I should probably note the caveat here that I edited several anthologies in 2010 myself, so I offer without comment SF anthology G.o.dlike Machines G.o.dlike Machines, fantasy anthologies Swords and Dark Magic Swords and Dark Magic (edited with Lou Anders), (edited with Lou Anders), Legends of Australian Fantasy Legends of Australian Fantasy (edited with Jack Dann) and (edited with Jack Dann) and Wings of Fire Wings of Fire (edited with Marianne S. Jablon). All contain work I think deserves your attention. The best original fantasy anthology of the year was Justine Larbalestier and Holly Black's immensely enjoyable (edited with Marianne S. Jablon). All contain work I think deserves your attention. The best original fantasy anthology of the year was Justine Larbalestier and Holly Black's immensely enjoyable Zombies vs. Unicorns Zombies vs. Unicorns, which featured excellent work by Diana Peterfreund, Sarah Rees Brennan, Scott Westerfeld, Meg Cabot, Alaya Dawn Johnson and others. If you buy only one original fantasy anthology of the year, this should be it. I was frankly surprised at the quality of Full Moon City, Full Moon City, a werewolf anthology that featured terrific stories from the likes of Holly Black, Peter S. Beagle and Gene Wolfe. Well worth your attention was the latest from Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling, a werewolf anthology that featured terrific stories from the likes of Holly Black, Peter S. Beagle and Gene Wolfe. Well worth your attention was the latest from Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling, The Beastly Bride The Beastly Bride, which included strong work from Christopher Barzak, Ellen Kushner and Peter S. Beagle. More tangential to this book, Datlow also edited a strong anthology of ghost stories, Haunted Legends Haunted Legends, with Nick Mamatas, which featured good work by Jeffrey Ford, Caitlin R. Kiernan and Joe R. Lansdale. Also worth mention is John Joseph Adams's The Way of the Wizard The Way of the Wizard, which includes good work by Nnedi Okorafor, Genevieve Valentine and others.

There were, frankly, very few SF anthologies published this year. After my own G.o.dlike Machines G.o.dlike Machines, the best of these was Nick Gevers and Marty Halpern's Is Anybody Out There? Is Anybody Out There?, which had an excellent story from Pat Cadigan and very good work from Alexander Irvine and others. 2010 also seemed to have more high profile "bestseller" anthologies than we've seen for a while. Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio delivered Stories Stories, while Gardner Dozois and George R. R. Martin edited Warriors Warriors and and Songs of Love and Death Songs of Love and Death. All three were mixed genre, and often the non-genre stories were the highlights. Although it was somewhat uneven, the best of these anthologies was Stories, Stories, which had outstanding stories by Elizabeth Hand and editor Gaiman, alongside fine work from Joe R. Lansdale, Jeffrey Ford and Tim Powers. which had outstanding stories by Elizabeth Hand and editor Gaiman, alongside fine work from Joe R. Lansdale, Jeffrey Ford and Tim Powers. Warriors Warriors featured strong work from Joe Haldeman, Howard Waldrop and both editors Dozois and Martin, while featured strong work from Joe Haldeman, Howard Waldrop and both editors Dozois and Martin, while Songs of Love and Death Songs of Love and Death had good work from Carrie Vaughn, Neil Gaiman and others. 2010 saw the World Science Fiction Convention travel to Australia and a number of strong anthologies were published by Australian small presses to coincide with the event. Easily the best of these was Alisa Krasnostein's had good work from Carrie Vaughn, Neil Gaiman and others. 2010 saw the World Science Fiction Convention travel to Australia and a number of strong anthologies were published by Australian small presses to coincide with the event. Easily the best of these was Alisa Krasnostein's Sprawl Sprawl, a suburban fantasy anthology from Twelfth Planet Press which featured excellent work by Peter M. Ball, Angela Slatter, Thoraiya Dyer and others. Also of interest were Tehani Wesseley's Worlds Next Door Worlds Next Door and Liz Grzyb's and Liz Grzyb's Scary Kisses Scary Kisses.

I could go on and talk about reprint anthologies, collections and such but I'm running long as it is, so instead I'll simply say it was another fine year and let you get to reading the wonderful stories that feature in this year's book. As always, I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I've enjoyed compiling them. See you next year!

Jonathan Strahan Perth, Australia November 2010

ELEGY FOR A YOUNG ELK.

HANNU RAJANIEMI.

Hannu Rajaniemi was born in Ylivieska, Finland, and read his first science fiction novel at the age of six-Jules Verne's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. At the age of eight he approached European s.p.a.ce Agency with a fusion-powered s.p.a.ceship design, which was received with a polite "thank you" note. He studied mathematics and theoretical physics at the University of Oulu and completed a B.Sc. thesis on transcendental numbers. Rajaniemi went on to complete Part III of the Mathematical Tripos at Cambridge University and a Ph.D. in string theory at the University of Edinburgh. After completing his Ph.D., he joined three partners to co-found ThinkTank Maths (TTM). The company provides mathematics-based technologies in the defense, s.p.a.ce, and energy sectors. Rajaniemi is a member of an Edinburgh-based writers group which includes Alan Campbell, Jack Deighton, Caroline Dunford, and Charles Stross. His first fiction sale was the short story "Shibuya no Love" to Futurismic.com Futurismic.com, and his first novel, The Quantum Thief The Quantum Thief, was published by Gollancz in 2010.

The night after Kosonen shot the young elk, he tried to write a poem by the campfire.

It was late April and there was still snow on the ground. He had already taken to sitting outside in the evening, on a log by the fire, in the small clearing where his cabin stood. Otso was more comfortable outside, and he preferred the bear's company to being alone. It snored loudly atop its pile of fir branches.

A wet smell that had traces of elk s.h.i.t drifted from its drying fur.

He dug a soft-cover notebook and a pencil stub from his pocket. He leafed through it: most of the pages were empty. Words had become slippery, harder to catch than elk. Although not this one: careless and young. An old elk would never have let a man and a bear so close.

He scattered words on the first empty page, gripping the pencil hard.

Antlers. Sapphire antlers. No good. No good. Frozen flames. Tree roots. Forked destinies. Frozen flames. Tree roots. Forked destinies. There had to be words that captured the moment when the crossbow kicked against his shoulder, the meaty sound of the arrow's impact. But it was like trying to catch snowflakes in his palm. He could barely glimpse the crystal structure, and then they melted. There had to be words that captured the moment when the crossbow kicked against his shoulder, the meaty sound of the arrow's impact. But it was like trying to catch snowflakes in his palm. He could barely glimpse the crystal structure, and then they melted.

He closed the notebook and almost threw it into the fire, but thought better of it and put it back into his pocket. No point in wasting good paper. Besides, his last toilet roll in the outhouse would run out soon.

"Kosonen is thinking about words again," Otso growled. "Kosonen should drink more booze. Don't need words then. Just sleep."

Kosonen looked at the bear. "You think you are smart, huh?" He tapped his crossbow. "Maybe it's you who should be shooting elk."

"Otso good at smelling. Kosonen at shooting. Both good at drinking." Otso yawned luxuriously, revealing rows of yellow teeth. Then it rolled to its side and let out a satisfied heavy sigh. "Otso will have more booze soon."

Maybe the bear was right. Maybe a drink was all he needed. No point in being a poet: they had already written all the poems in the world, up there, in the sky. They probably had poetry gardens. Or places where you could become words.

But that was not the point. The words needed to come from him him, a dirty, bearded man in the woods whose toilet was a hole in the ground. Bright words from dark matter, that's what poetry was about.

When it worked.

There were things to do. The squirrels had almost picked the lock the previous night, b.l.o.o.d.y things. The cellar door needed reinforcing. But that could wait until tomorrow.

He was about to open a vodka bottle from Otso's secret stash in the snow when Marja came down from the sky as rain.

The rain was sudden and cold like a bucket of water poured over your head in the sauna. But the droplets did not touch the ground, they floated around Kosonen. As he watched, they changed shape, joined together and made a woman, spindle-thin bones, mist-flesh and muscle. She looked like a gla.s.s sculpture. The small b.r.e.a.s.t.s were perfect hemispheres, her s.e.x an equilateral silver triangle. But the face was familiar-small nose and high cheekbones, a sharp-tongued mouth.

Marja.

Otso was up in an instant, by Kosonen's side. "Bad smell, G.o.d-smell," it growled. "Otso bites." The rain-woman looked at it curiously.

"Otso," Kosonen said sternly. He gripped the fur in the bear's rough neck tightly, feeling its huge muscles tense. "Otso is Kosonen's friend. Listen to Kosonen. Not time for biting. Time for sleeping. Kosonen will speak to G.o.d." Then he set the vodka bottle in the snow right under its nose.

Otso sniffed the bottle and sc.r.a.ped the half-melted snow with its forepaw.

"Otso goes," it finally said. "Kosonen shouts if the G.o.d bites. Then Otso comes." It picked up the bottle in its mouth deftly and loped into the woods with a bear's loose, shuffling gait.

"Hi," the rain-woman said.

"h.e.l.lo," Kosonen said carefully. He wondered if she was real. The plague G.o.ds were crafty. One of them could have taken Marja's image from his mind. He looked at the unstrung crossbow and tried to judge the odds: a diamond G.o.ddess versus an out-of-shape woodland poet. Not good.

"Your dog does not like me very much," the Marja-thing said. She sat down on Kosonen's log and swung her shimmering legs in the air, back and forth, just like Marja always did in the sauna. It had to be her, Kosonen decided, feeling something jagged in his throat.

He coughed. "Bear, not a dog. A dog would have barked. Otso just bites. Nothing personal, that's just its nature. Paranoid and grumpy."

"Sounds like someone I used to know."

"I'm not paranoid." Kosonen hunched down and tried to get the fire going again. "You learn to be careful, in the woods."

Marja looked around. "I thought we gave you stayers more equipment. It looks a little... primitive here."

"Yeah. We had plenty of gadgets," Kosonen said. "But they weren't plague-proof. I had a smartgun before I had this"-he tapped his crossbow-"but it got infected. I killed it with a big rock and threw it into the swamp. I've got my skis and some tools, and these." Kosonen tapped his temple. "Has been enough so far. So cheers."

He piled up some kindling under a triangle of small logs, and in a moment the flames sprung up again. Three years had been enough to learn about woodcraft at least. Marja's skin looked almost human in the soft light of the fire, and he sat back on Otso's fir branches, watching her. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"So how are you, these days?" he asked. "Keeping busy?"

Marja smiled. "Your wife grew up. She's a big girl now. You don't want to know how big."

"So... you are not her, then? Who am I talking to?"

"I am her, and I am not her. I'm a partial, but a faithful one. A translation. You wouldn't understand."

Kosonen put some snow in the coffee pot to melt. "All right, so I'm a caveman. Fair enough. But I understand you are here because you want something. So let's get down to business, perkele perkele," he swore.

Marja took a deep breath. "We lost something. Something important. Something new. The spark, we called it. It fell into the city."

"I thought you lot kept copies of everything."

"Quantum information. That was a part of the new new bit. You can't copy it." bit. You can't copy it."

"Tough s.h.i.t."

A wrinkle appeared between Marja's eyebrows. Kosonen remembered it from a thousand fights they had had, and swallowed.

"If that's the tone you want to take, fine," she said. "I thought you'd be glad to see me. I didn't have to come: they could have sent Mickey Mouse. But I wanted to see you. The big Marja wanted to see you. So you have decided to live your life like this, as the tragic figure haunting the woods. That's fine. But you could at least listen. You owe me that much." Kosonen said nothing.

"I see," Marja said. "You still blame me for Esa."

She was right. It had been her who got the first Santa Claus machine. The boy needs the best we can offer, she said. The world is changing. Can't have him being left behind. Let's make him into a little G.o.d, like the neighbor's kid.

"I guess I shouldn't be blaming you you," Kosonen said. "You're just a... partial. You weren't there."

"I was there," Marja said quietly. "I remember. Better than you, now. I also forget better, and forgive. You never could. You just... wrote poems. The rest of us moved on, and saved the world."

"Great job," Kosonen said. He poked the fire with a stick, and a cloud of sparks flew up into the air with the smoke.

Marja got up. "That's it," she said. "I'm leaving. See you in a hundred years." The air grew cold. A halo appeared around her, shimmering in the firelight.

Kosonen closed his eyes and squeezed his jaw shut tight. He waited for ten seconds. Then he opened his eyes. Marja was still there, staring at him, helpless. He could not help smiling. She could never leave without having the last word.

"I'm sorry," Kosonen said. "It's been a long time. I've been living in the woods with a bear. Doesn't improve one's temper much."

"I didn't really notice any difference."

"All right," Kosonen said. He tapped the fir branches next to him. "Sit down. Let's start over. I'll make some coffee."

Marja sat down, bare shoulder touching his. She felt strangely warm, warmer than the fire almost.

"The firewall won't let us into the city," she said. "We don't have anyone...human enough, not anymore. There was some talk about making one, but... the argument would last a century." She sighed. "We like to argue, in the sky."

Kosonen grinned. "I bet you fit right in." He checked for the wrinkle before continuing. "So you need an errand boy."

"We need help."

Kosonen looked at the fire. The flames were dying now, licking at the blackened wood. There were always new colors in the embers. Or maybe he just always forgot.

He touched Marja's hand. It felt like a soap bubble, barely solid. But she did not pull it away.

"All right," he said. "But just so you know, it's not just for old times' sake."

"Anything we can give you."

"I'm cheap," Kosonen said. "I just want words."

The sun sparkled on the kantohanki kantohanki: snow with a frozen surface, strong enough to carry a man on skis and a bear. Kosonen breathed hard. Even going downhill, keeping pace with Otso was not easy. But in weather like this, there was something glorious about skiing, sliding over blue shadows of trees almost without friction, the snow hissing underneath.

I've sat still too long, he thought. he thought. Should have gone somewhere just to go, not because someone asks. Should have gone somewhere just to go, not because someone asks.