The Year's Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Fourth Annual Collection by Gardner Dozois

Author:Gardner Dozois [Dozois, Gardner]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction; American, Anthologies (Multiple Authors), Fiction, Anthologies, Science Fiction, General, Short Stories
ISBN: 9780312363345
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * * *

I HOLD MY FATHER’S PAWS

David D. Levine

In his short career to date, new writer David D. Levine has won the James White Award and the Phobos Fiction Contest, and capped it by winning a Hugo Award this year for his story “Tk’tk’tk.” A graduate of Clarion West, his stories have appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Asimov’s Science Fiction, Albedo One, Realms of Fantasy, Talebones, All-Star Zeppelin Adventure Stories, and elsewhere. He lives in Portland, Oregon, where he and his wife, Kate Yule, coedit the popular fanzine Bento.

In the poignant story that follows, he shows us that family bonds can be very hard to break—even if you change your species to do so!

* * * *

THE receptionist had feathers where her eyebrows should have been. They were blue, green, and black, iridescent as a peacock’s, and they trembled gently in the silent breath of the air conditioner. “Did you have a question, sir?”

“No,” Jason replied, and raised his magazine, but after reading the same paragraph three times without remembering a word he set it down again. “Actually, yes. Um, I wanted to ask you… ah… are you… transitioning?” The word landed on the soft tailored-grass carpet of the waiting room, and Jason wished he could pick it up again, stuff it into his pocket, and leave. Just leave, and never come back.

“Oh, you mean the eyebrows? No, sir, that’s just fashion. I enjoy being human.” She smiled gently at him. “You haven’t been in San Francisco very long, have you?”

“No, I just got in this morning.”

“Feathers are very popular here. In fact, we’re having a special this month. Would you like a brochure?”

“No! Uh, I mean, no thank you.” He looked down and saw that the magazine had crumpled in his hands. Awkwardly he tried to smooth it out, then gave up and slipped it back in the pile on the coffee table. They were all recent issues, and the coffee table looked like real wood. He tested it with a dirty thumbnail; real wood, all right. Then, appalled at his own action, he shifted the pile of magazines to cover the tiny scratch.

“Sir?”

Jason started at the receptionist’s voice, sending magazines skidding across the table. “What?”

“Would you mind if I gave you a little friendly advice?”

“Uh, I… no. Please.” She was probably going to tell him that his fly was open, or that ties were required in this office. Her own tie matched the wall covering, a luxurious print of maroon and gold. Jason doubted the collar of his faded work shirt would even button around his thick neck.

“You might not want to ask any of our patients if they are transitioning.”

“Is it impolite?” He wanted to crawl under the table and die.

“No, sir.” She smiled again, with genuine humor this time. “It’s just that some of them will talk your ear off, given the slightest show of intrest.”

“I, uh… thank you.”

A chime sounded—a rich little sound that blended unobtrusively with the waiting room’s classical music—and the receptionist stared into space for a moment.

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