Year's Best SF 17

“My father left a few weeks ago to start work on a new project, the construction of another cityfield over Xanadu, on equatorial Titan,” Beatrix said. “Maybe I’ll go join him. Get away from all of this.”

“That’s really what you want?”

After a long pause, Beatrix said, “Now that you’ve met someone … I’m not sure there’s anything left here for me.”

“Bea, I don’t want you to worry about Juan Carlos. That has nothing to do with our relationship. We’ve always been friends and we’re going to stay friends forever. No man can change that.”

Beatrix’s face brightened and they continued their trek along the edge of the gorge, the ethane-filled tributaries churning far below them.

ENCRYPTED Med. Journal Entry No. 225 by Dr Juan Carlos Barbarón: Adsorption: The first step in macromeiosis is the penetration of the headtail fibers into the specific pseudo-protein receptors of the passive Wergen’s tether. Enzymes quickly dissolve the base plate, the tethers become one, triggering significant changes to the aliens’ body chemistry. (See Journal Entry No. 6.)Cara lowered her head and trudged forward into the driving pink snow. Her boots sank into the slushy drifts as she made it over the bend and Beatrix’s hearth came into view. The dwelling resembled the upper half of a metallic egg with two arched openings on opposite sides. The Wergens had a very rigid conception of exits and entrances.

Juan Carlos, her fiancé, had wanted her to spend the day visiting with his parents, but she’d grown increasingly concerned over the fact that she hadn’t heard a word from Beatrix in over a week. It wasn’t like her. Usually the problem was keeping Beatrix from calling too often—something else Juan Carlos bitterly complained about. But Beatrix couldn’t help herself, Cara had explained to him for what seemed like a thousand times. She was Wergen, after all. Juan Carlos didn’t want to hear it.

Cara stepped through the archway, stomping the snow off of her boots. Her blue-tinted bodyfield clicked off automatically.

The welcoming bots skittered at her feet, unlaced her boots and laid out slippers for her on the scale-patterned floorboards.

This was the only time she could remember visiting the hearth that Beatrix hadn’t been waiting for her at the entranceway. Could her friend be jealous? Is that why she’d stopped calling? When last they spoke, Cara had told her that Juan Carlos had finally proposed and that she had accepted. After expressing some confusion over how an engagement differed from dating or from marriage, Beatrix had asked whether it still meant that they would someday join a human-Wergen expedition and go colonize some strange new world together. Cara had reassured her that she and Juan Carlos had promising careers at CE and that they were both on track to join the colonization efforts.

Beatrix emerged out of the fireroom in the center of the dwelling and Cara staggered backward.

In all the years she’d known her, Cara had never seen Beatrix without some head covering. Usually she put on a coronatis, the leafy headdress that all Wergens wore. But today the flat top of her head was exposed and a rubbery cord extended out of her cranium, dragging along the floor to another room in the hearth.

“Cara!” Beatrix said, smiling. “I’m sorry that I haven’t returned your messages. It’s just … these past few weeks have been a very private time for me.”

Cara pointed to the tether. “You … you’re …”

“Yes, it was my time.” She looked at the floor, embarrassed.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Bea?”

She rubbed her shoulders nervously and didn’t answer.

Cara understood that Wergens were notoriously private about their reproductive cycle, but this was her best friend. She felt wounded by the fact that Beatrix hadn’t confided in her. Then she remembered what Beatrix had told her all those years ago about the absorption of one Wergen into another based on their genetic makeup, about encorporation.

“Bea, tell me you’re genetically dominant. Please!”

Beatrix continued rubbing her shoulders.

A moment later the Wergen at the other end of the tether entered the room. He was shorter than Beatrix, with gray-flecked scales he covered with a dark blue robe.

Ambus.

Cara gasped. “But …”

“A pleasure to finally see you up close,” he said.

But there was no pleasure in his voice, no Wergen servility. Only an undercurrent of hostility.

Cara turned to Beatrix, eyes wide. “Your brother?”

“Of course. There are very few of us on Titan. And we’re genetically compatible. We can safely interbreed for another generation.”

“You don’t owe her any explanations, Beatrix,” Ambus said.

“I apologize for his tone, Cara,” Beatrix said. “When he saw you approaching our hearth he took a dose of the suppressant. He’ll be more himself in a few minutes.”

“What does it feel like to hold so much sway over another person’s life?” Ambus said to Cara. “Do you realize how unfair you’ve been to her? That she’s your loyal slave because she has no choice?”

“She’s not my slave!” Cara said.