Year's Best SF 17 (Year's Best SF Series)
The Year’s Best SF 17 is a showcase of the best short form science fiction of 2011, selected by World Fantasy Award winners David Hartwell and Kathryn Cramer, two of the most respected editors in the field of speculative fiction. Like the previous sixteen volumes of the series that has been called “the finest modern science fiction writing,” The Year’s Best SF 17 features stories from some of the brightest lights in sf—including Gregory Benford (Beyond Human), Nancy Kress (Beggars in Spain), James Morrow (The Philosopher’s Apprentice), Michael Swanwick (The Dragons of Babel) and Neil Gaiman (American Gods) —as well as electrifying short stories from exciting newcomers.
the name …” She fumbled in her purse as if the name might be among the tissues and supermarket coupons. “Was it Selective Memory Obliteration Neural Re-Routing?” “Yes! The very words! Your memory, Eliot, I swear, your mother would have been so proud of—” Eliot grabbed her arm. “Are you going to let them operate? Are you?” “Why, Eliot! You’re hurting me!” He let go. “I’m sorry. But—you are going to let them operate, aren’t you?” Aunt Sue looked at him. She had small eyes of no particular
crowd toward her. “I’m so glad we found you,” she said when she drew close. “Maya was here a little while ago, looking for you.” “Where is she now?” Thorn asked, scanning the crowd. “She left again.” “Good,” Thorn said. “Thorn, she was frantic. She was afraid you’d get separated.” “We are separated,” Thorn said implacably. “She can do what she wants. I’m on my own now. Where are you going, Clarity?” Bick had come up, carrying their ticket cards. Thorn caught her hand to look at the tickets.
Months, Three Days” was published by Tor.com, and this is perhaps its first appearance in print. It is a love story about two clairvoyants whose abilities are otherwise radically different. Doug and Judy both see the future, but Doug sees it as fixed and Judy as branching possibilities. Their relationship becomes a contest between visions of the future as determined or as indeterminate. The man who can see the future has a date with the woman who can see many possible futures. Judy is
staring at the hospital linoleum, waiting to go into X-ray. Then she pedals home, feeling the cold air smash into her face. She’s forgotten her helmet, but it’ll be okay. When she gets home, she’s going to grab Marva and they’re going straight to Logan, where a bored check-in counter person will give them dirt-cheap tickets on the last flight to Miami. They’ll have the wildest three days of their lives, with no lasting ill effects. It’ll be epic, she’s already living every instant of it in her
were about to cross a street. Her hand found his. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. “When I was smaller,” he said simply. “A long time ago.” “Was it hard?” “Sometimes.” “But you can’t feel it if somebody beats you up, right? It doesn’t hurt?” “No, it doesn’t hurt.” In jail they had asked him, at various times, if it hurt yet. And he had blinked and said No, not yet, not ever. Throughout, he had believed that his dad might come to help him. It was his dad who had been training him. His