I think
“Daddy,” she says, turning toward me, and I know I’ve already lost. She hasn’t called me “Daddy” for years. “Daddy” was Jenna at three, running toward me to be lifted into my arms. At seven, holding my hands on a walk by a sun-dappled river. At eleven, chin in her hand, listening as I explained crossbreeding plants. Jenna who loved me, not some example of outdated, over-sexed, dangerous “masculinity” with a knife in his hand and an attitude that could destroy the world.
Or remake it.
Tears choke Jenna’s voice. “Daddy, I have to go with him.” And then fiercely, “I have to
She trusts that he would let her go. She trusts everything. He trusts nothing.
Yet they are alike. I know this in ways that Jake, not a scientist, never will. I know it because a crossbred strain of wheat contains far more zinc than either parent plant. Because bear attacks, however terrible, are milder than in my great-grandmother Carrie’s day, or my grandmother Sophie’s, or mine. Because I’ve read about regression to the mean, about genetic “throwbacks” that always counterbalance Darwinian selection. About the eternally disturbed, and then restored, balance between predator and prey, violence and cooperation, sex and aggression.
Jenna kisses me. Jake has the grace to say, “Larry, I’m sorry.” Then they are running, sprinting hand-in-hand toward the cover of the dark woods.
Around me, the villagers — my people — move, shudder, sob. The bodies of Dant16 and Dant23 lie at my feet. On the horizon, a blue dot appears in the sky, moving fast.
I can’t imagine what kind of world Jake and Jenna will make, what kind of world their children will inherit. I don’t want to imagine it. But I know, in my bones, that it will come.
Nancy Kress is the author of thirty-two books, including twenty-five novels, four collections of short stories, and three books on writing. Her work has won five Nebulas, two Hugos, a Sturgeon, and the John W. Campbell Memorial Award. Most recent works are
Acknowledgments
Agents: John thanks his agent Seth Fishman, who supported this experiment and provided feedback and counsel whenever he needed it, and also to his former agent Joe Monti (now a book editor who he plans to sell lots of anthologies to), who was very enthusiastic about this idea when it first occurred to him, and encouraged John to pursue his idea to self-publish it. Hugh likewise thanks his agent Kristin Nelson for all of her support and for constantly playing out his leash.
Art/Design: Thanks to Julian Aguilar Faylona for providing wonderful cover art for all three volumes of The Apocalypse Triptych, and to Jason Gurley for adding in all the most excellent design elements that took the artwork from being mere images and transformed them into
Proofreaders: Thanks to Rachael K. Jones, Anthony Cardno, Kevin McNeil, Andy Sima, and Adam Dwyer.
Narrators/Producers: Thanks to Stefan Rudnicki and the whole team at Skyboat Media for producing the audiobook version of this anthology, and to narrators Vikas Adam, Gabrielle de Cuir, Justine Eyre, Roxanne Hernandez, Alex Hyde-White, Emily Rankin, Stefan Rudnicki and Judy Young for lending their vocal talents to the production.
Family: John sends thanks to his wife, Christie, his mom, Marianne, and his sister, Becky, for all their love and support, and their endless enthusiasm for all his new projects. He also wanted to thank his sister-in-law Kate and stepdaughter Grace who had to listen to him blab incessantly about this project as it was coming together, ruining many a dinner. Hugh thanks his wife Amber, who co-edits this wonderful life they have together. His chapters would be boring and lonely without her.