Cover: Near Worlds Apart © Zara Kand
Editor: Jean-Paul L. Garnier
Layout: F. J. Bergmann
Production Manager: F. J. Bergmann
Mailing: Andrew Gilstrap
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Wyrms & Wormholes: Cybermeat
Congratulations to all of the Rhysling nominees! It is always exciting to see speculative poetry and poets from all over the world honored. Speaking of poets, I would be remiss not to mention that it is my belief that poetry should be written by poets. AI has recently taken the humanities by storm, and while part of me wants to embrace the future of this tech, I wholeheartedly believe that AI should not be used in the humanities. Until it becomes sentient, and can be called a poet, because it is truly autonomous and self-aware, AI should be reserved for the sciences, traffic control, and space exploration, rather than stealing work away for our culture’s writers and artists. That being said, if you write the software that writes the poetry I might consider being swayed. As someone who has written autonomous music generation software I understand that tech and art can hold hands, and that it can be of great benefit. But it should never be used to replace humans; after all, it would hardly be the humanities without humanity. Create in whatever you can, however you want to, and do so without rules—but do it with heart! Perhaps when I see one pumping away inside of the machine I will change my mind, but until then my job is to uplift and represent real poets and the poetry that they, that you, write.
—Jean-Paul L. Garnier, Star*Line Editor
Editor's Choice Poems
"First Engineering Job" by John Reinhart
It’s never that the drive short circuits,
never my fault. I’ve checked the wiring,
pile the connections, soldered and resoldered
loose ends; red connects to red, black connects
to black, and the green can go
up the captain’s nose. The jump drive jumps
whenever I say but it can’t do anything
if it’s covered in sickly sticky peppermint stain.
“Smuggling is an honorable and profitable
profession,” the professors said. “Be an engineer
and you won’t have to face heavily armed
and armored thugbeasts trying to tear your face
off to sell it at the outposts,” said Dad. “You’ll be going
places,” said Mom. But these idiots
just waste away sucking themselves stupid
on peppermints cooked to sugar high, sludging
the runoff down the vents. I lost two
cleaners last week when the thrusters
fired and fried them, stuck in white and red
impossibility. But we’re Between, the nowhere
for trade, where smugglers stop to hide.
It could be weeks before a freighter passes
close enough to jump; stars taunting me
through the windows, little check engine lights
reminding me that I thought this job was
sweet. Little did I know.
"Up in the Air," by Ian Willey
When we left earth we wanted to take the hawks with us but they wouldn’t go. They stayed up in the air, following the whims of the wind. We used their language to explain to them the severity of the situation: because of the thing we did with the moon (an accident) the wind was getting stronger and in time it would blow everything away including the hawks. They wouldn’t listen. We pleaded with them, we promised them new skies; they were unmoved. I can still hear their cries as we circle through space, searching for a place to land.
"Last Act of Service," by Gerri Leen
I hear it from the familiars’ network
Your dragon to Elsa’s wolf to my cat
You’re gone and I have very little time
To make your place presentable
I was your apprentice
I owe you this
They will remember the magician
Not the hoarder
I use the teleport spell you taught me
Manifest in the yard because who knows
If there’s even room in the house
And take a deep breath before entering
The other magicians
Will be here soon
To pay their last respects
As is proper
I open the door and it’s worse than last time
Things piled on the floor, things stacked in shelves
At least you threw your food out
The place doesn’t smell bad
I find you on the floor in your bedroom
Your dragon heard you stand and then fall
I hope you felt no pain
I hope you didn’t wait for death
We get busy, your dragon and I
Me with magic, levitating things out
Him with fire, burning up the evidence
Showing you were incapable of throwing anything out
Half of your bed is covered with books and
Pamphlets, unopened missives
Sacks of herbs overflow the kitchen table
I’ll hang them once I make room
It takes all night to clear out, to clean up
To put things away, to settle you back in bed
Regalements placed over you, your wand
In your crossed hands
The dragon leans against me
And I turn to him and cry
His wings cradle me as I finally mourn
Now that your secret shame is gone
He left me to you, the Dragon whispers
And I stroke his face and tell him to be nice
To my cat, and then he bellows
This time through the mage network
The magical cohort will come, will pay respects
I will sit in the corner, exhausted
I was your last apprentice and only daughter
My service to you is over, my loss will never be
"Our Quantum Detective Works Her Board," by Robert Frazier
Aware of her own ambiguities
As a cloned operative undercover,
Our DCI voices a quip while sussing out
Theories upon her virtual white board:
“You can’t be in two places at once.”
Yet she scrawls in luminous marker:
By quantum information theory the state
Of a particle can be replicated at
A distance from its relative location.
Then red highlights: relative.
So she challenges the incident room.
“If we can isolate every particle
Of our bodies then replicate elsewhere,
Can our suspect be temporally dual?”
Her lead DI: “You mean teleportation.
That’s just no good of course
Without a plan on the other end
To put Humpty together again.”
Another DI: “And after could you/they
Truly be the exact same person.”
Our DCI writes out, Can we prosecute a copy?
Which of them would be the guilty party?
But what she’s really thinking is
—I’m leading a dual life here on duty.—
Like the two-state qubit with a value
Of one or zero depending on the spin,
What outcome will she end up in?
Accepted or rejected.
"The Office Buildings We Must Maintain," by Jason P. Burnham
Standing there, gray, abandoned, forlorn
The crumbling trellis of commerce
We must maintain the office buildings.
Trellises repurposed now for honeysuckle, climbing hydrangea
Gray gone green, yellow, and white.
The insides too
We must maintain the office buildings.
Corporations, traders, meetings all gone
Left with wide open spaces
Cubicles, offices, plumbing.
Group space, bedrooms, communal bathroom.
We must maintain the office buildings.
A roof is a roof
Out of the wind
Out of the cold
Out of the heat
Out of the rain
We must maintain the office buildings.
Water features now pools, showers, baths
Computers a co-op library
A place to find jobs, connect with family, or just browse the internet
Like everyone else.
We must maintain the office buildings.
Close down the shelters if you’re worried about money
There’s more than enough room on Main and Broadway
We must maintain the office buildings.
As for the food, no worries, no fear
Gardens on the roof, hydroponics inside
The food court has the equipment we’ll need
Kitchens, dishwashers, refrigerators, freezers
Keep the lights on and all will be fed.
We must maintain the office buildings.
Now don’t go get jealous
They have great views from high up there above town
Wave as you go by
But don’t gentrify
We must maintain the office buildings
Community living, community thriving
Keep up the space—don’t waste
We must maintain the office buildings.
"Utopia," by S. T. Eleu
it’s a temperate coastal hamlet
within a day’s hike of either snow or sand
where slopes and strands stretch as far as leisure allows
it’s a hamlet
within an hour’s flight of a bustling, hustling metropolis
where pleasure has neither time nor reason to fathom fear or regret
it’s a metropolis
within the freest nation, sheltered from any mythology
that would clip its wings and cage its kith and kin
it’s a nation
within a planetary system whose rings
harmonize songs offered in absolution
it’s a planet
within a parallel universe that I now call home
a place I live as equally as comfortable
in cowboy boots as in eyeshadow
in pink as in blue as in silver as in nude
in bloom as in abscission
as scientist, as poet, as meditation, as serenade
as plant as animal as lichen as lycanthrope
as multiple lights within the spectrum
the express leaves at noon
don’t be late
it seldom returns
Full Table of Contents
Departments
- Wyrms & Wormholes * Jean-Paul Garnier
- SFPA Announcements
- President’s Message * Colleen Anderson
- From the Small Press * Herb Kauderer, John Reinhart, Lisa Timpf
- Stealth SF * “Herb Kauderer, John Reinhart, Lisa Timpf” * Denise Dumars
- SpecPo Publishing * Interview with Akua Lezli Hope * Jean-Paul Garnier
Art
- Fork * Denny E. Marshall
- Wind-Up * Denny E. Marshall
- Ace of Pentacles • Jake Quatt
- Dinosaur * Christina Sng
Poetry
- Then Weapons Appeared * Lauren McBride
- First Engineering Job * John Reinhart
- Solo Mission * Anna Cates
- True vacuum * Richard Magahiz
- Where Seas Boil * Meg Smith
- [above spinning skies] * Howard V. Hendrix
- Grendel’s Mother * Melissa Ridley Elmes
- Canals * Christopher R. Muscato
- I Imagine They Will Be Greatly Disappointed * Jordan Hirsch
- [supernova] * Joshua St. Claire
- Brokenhearted * Christina Sng
- Far From Home * Avra Margariti
- Q * Anna Cates
- the time-traveler’s daughter * Eva Papasoulioti
- [galaxy spins] * David C. Kopaska-Merkel
- Sear * J. M. Bédard
- Up in the Air * Ian Willey
- Nikola Tesla * F. J. Bergmann
- Last Act of Service * Gerri Leen
- Thoroughly wrapped * Yuliia Vereta
- [silver wings] * L. L. Hill
- [your words] * Joshua St. Claire
- Feathered Eclipse of the Sun * Howard V. Hendrix
- As We Move to Hold Hands … * R. Mac Jones
- Storm God * Carma Lynn Park
- Flying the Carboniferous * Richard Magahiz
- [water ocean planet] * Matthew Wilson
- [sipping on plasma * Randall Andrews
- [no eating on the job] * LeRoy Gorman
- Our Quantum Detective Works Her Board * Robert Frazier
- F.U.T.U.R.E. * Yuliia Vereta
- With the Dead for Company * John Grey
- Anonymous Eaters * Yuliia Vereta
- The Office Buildings We Must Maintain * Jason P. Burnham
- [sentient AI] * Ngo Binh Anh Khoa
- Coin * David C. Kopaska-Merkel
- Bioweapons * Mariel Herbert
- Squeeze Play * John H. Dromey
- Symbolic Gesture * John H. Dromey
- the ultimate snack * D. A. Xiaolin Spires
- Starlight * D. M. Crawford
- Countup * Richard Magahiz
- The Lying Moon * Beth Cato
- Requiescat in Pace * Jessica Peter
- [drowning] * Chris Langer
- Destination * Matthew Wilson
- [With morning, Newton’s] * Morley Cacoethes
- The Caves of Trappist-1e * T. R. Jones
- Misplaced * Hilary Biehl
- Growing, Always Growing * Rick Ansell Pearson
- Budget Space-Cruises * Lauren McBride
- Intergalactic Ballad * Alicia Hilton
- [Your arms] * Sarah Cannavo
- Salem, Massachusetts: Late Winter 1691 * Patricia Gomes
- Proteus Wonders * Devan Barlow
- Quantum Leap With Pepperoni * Alan Ira Gordon
- Afterlife Machine * Alexis Renata
- Dispatches from the Dragon’s Den * Mary Soon Lee
- Medusa Love * Jacqueline West
- The Hard Knock Post-Life * Greg Fewer
- Time For a Change * Sarah Cannavo
- [the mummy] * David C. Kopaska-Merkel
- If Death Were a Cat * Mary Soon Lee
- Life II * Marisca Pichette
- Sympathy for Lady M * Avra Margariti
- Remodeled * Mahaila Smith
- Utopia * S. T. Eleu
- Polar plateau * Eva Papasoulioti
- Last Act of a Doomed Man * Pedro Iniguez
- For Centuries, We Feel Lost * Goran Lowie
- Tiller Po’s Legacy * Benjamin Whitney Norris