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    Apex Magazine Issue 63
    Apex Magazine Issue 63
    Apex Magazine Issue 63
    Ebook143 pages1 hour

    Apex Magazine Issue 63

    By Sigrid Ellis

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    About this ebook

    Apex Magazine is a monthly science fiction, fantasy, and horror magazine featuring original, mind-bending short fiction from many of the top pros of the field. New issues are released on the first Tuesday of every month.

    Edited by Hugo Award-nominated editor Sigrid Ellis.

    Table of Contents
    Fiction
    “Ten Days' Grace” by Foz Meadows
    “Sister of Mercy” by Amanda E. Forrest
    “The Sandbirds of Mirelle” by John Moran
    “Jupiter and Gentian” by Erik Amundsen
    “The Matter” by Nene Ormes (eBook/subscriber exclusive)
    “Zombies & Calculus — Excerpt” by Colin Adams (eBook/subscriber exclusive)
    Poetry
    “A User Guide to the Application of Gem-Flowers” by Bogi Takacs
    “Conservation of Energy” by Alvaro Zinos-Amaro
    Nonfiction
    “Resolute: Notes from the Editor-in-Chief” by Sigrid Ellis
    “The Testosterone Injection That Could Ruin Orphan Black...And How to Make Sure it Doesn't” by Duane de Four
    “Apex Author Interview with John Moran” by Andrea Johnson
    “Apex Cover Artist Interview with Cyril Rolando” by Loraine Sammy
    “Clavis Aurea: A Review of Short Fiction” by Charlotte Ashley

    Cover art by Cyril Rolando.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherApex Book Company
    Release dateAug 3, 2014
    ISBN9781311700674
    Apex Magazine Issue 63

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      Book preview

      Apex Magazine Issue 63 - Sigrid Ellis

      APEX MAGAZINE

      ISSUE 63, AUGUST 2014

      EDITED BY SIGRID ELLIS

      Smashwords Edition

      Table of Contents

      Editorial

      Resolute: Notes from the Editor–in–Chief — Sigrid Ellis

      Fiction

      Ten Days’ Grace — Foz Meadows

      Sister of Mercy — Amanda Forrest

      The Sandbirds of Mirelle — John Moran

      The Good Matter — Nene Ormes

      Jupiter and Gentian — Erik Amundsen

      Nonfiction

      The Testosterone Injection That Could Ruin Orphan Black… And How To Make Sure It Doesn’t — Duane de Four

      Interview with Cyril Rolando — Loraine Sammy

      Clavis Aurea: A Review of Short Fiction — Charlotte Ashley

      Interview with John Moran — Andrea Johnson

      Poetry

      A User Guide to the Application of Gem–Flowers — Bogi Takács

      Conservation of Energy — Alvaro Zinos–Amaro

      Excerpt

      Zombies & Calculus — Colin Adams

      Resolute: Notes from the Editor–in–Chief

      This issue is incredibly good.

      Apex is privileged to work with some of the most imaginative, most powerful creators in genre these days. A User Guide to the Application of Gem–Flowers, by Bogi Takács is exquisite. And poetry editor Elise Matthesen called Alvaro Zinos–Amaro’s Conservation of Energy an exploration of the intense physics of grief and hatred.

      I love Erik Amundsen’s short piece, Jupiter and Gentian, enough so to select it for this month’s podcast. John Moran’s The Sandbirds of Mirelle and Foz Meadows’ Ten Days’ Grace have nothing to do with each other, at all — save that the tensions between identity, occupation, and essential humanity are strained in both stories. The narrative voice in Sister of Mercy, by Amanda Forrest, caught my attention the first time I read it.

      The Good Matter, by Nene Ormes, is the first English publication of the piece, first seen at Finncon (July 2013). Our thanks to Nene for the privilege.

      Apex is also pleased to present an unusual novel excerpt, the first chapter of Colin Adams’ Zombies and Calculus. It’s a math novel. Go on, take a look.

      Duane de Four warns us of The Testosterone Injection That Could Ruin Orphan Black. Loraine Sammy interviews cover artist Cyril Rolando about our cover, After the Rain, and his artistic process. And Andrea Johnson interviews John Moran about writing, art, and discontinuity.

      §

      And now a brief word on another topic.

      I love SF/F cons. I love comics conventions. I have worked on and for conventions. I am friends with people at all levels of con–running across the country. These are my people. And yet I am angry at or frustrated with or disappointed in a number of conventions.

      There are too many controversies and problems to go into. Some I have only heard about. Some I have knowledge of, but that knowledge is not mine to share. I am torn between wanting to call the conventions out publically and wanting to give them the space and time to make smart, ethical decisions. In every case, I am waiting, biding my time, willing the human beings who run these conventions to get their acts together, own up to the failures, and be better.

      Be better.

      In the meantime, though, I have the consolation of fiction. Bright fiction, smart fiction, passionate fiction. I have the consolation of thoughtful essays and interviews, the intentioned text carrying us forward to our next self. The words of these creators settle into us, become part of us, make us the people we will be.

      Sit down with Apex. Enjoy. Ponder. Let these words become part of tomorrow’s better you.

      Sigrid Ellis

      Editor–in–Chief

      Ten Days’ Grace

      Foz Meadows

      Julia Kettan first knew her husband was dead when she looked out the window and saw a car emblazoned with the crest of the Bureau of Family Affairs pull up in the driveway. Her legs went weak, though whether from relief or fear she couldn’t tell. Robert hadn’t come home the previous evening. She’d phoned it in that morning to both the police and the Bureau, not wanting to risk a second major infraction under the Spousal Laws in case anything really had happened, despite being convinced that Robert had just drunk too much after work and decided to sleep at a friend’s. He’d done that before, and each time she’d forced herself to let the Bureau know, just in case. And now it had actually happened. Robert was gone, and a man in a suit was walking solemnly towards her door — she could see him through the kitchen window, pausing to straighten his tie, raising a hand for the buzzer — and it took all her strength not to burst out into terrified, sob–drenched laughter. At least Lily’s at school, she told herself wildly, at least she doesn’t have to be here for this, the naked, ugly part of it all. Fingers shaking, she finished programming the cleanser, and then the buzz came; it was time, it was time, and the questions were already on her lips — how did it happen? and what comes next?

      The agent on the other side of the door was younger than he’d seemed through the glass: not much older than her own thirty–three years, which was some relief. The patriarchs were the ones to watch out for. Julia made herself take in his brown eyes, clean–shaven jaw and black hair with impartiality, trying to let nothing show in her face. But of course, she was an open book to him; even as he opened his mouth, she could tell he knew that she knew why he’d come, and that he was unsurprised by her knowledge.

      Mrs. Julia May Kettan, formerly Julia Mai Liu?

      Yes.

      I’m Agent Sora James with the Bureau of Family Affairs. May I come in?

      She waved him through: no smile, no grief. As blank as blank. Of course.

      They sat in the lounge room, opposite one another. Agent James had a file under one arm, which he laid down on the coffee table before lacing his fingers together. Though clearly uncomfortable, he managed to meet her gaze.

      Mrs. Kettan, at seven–oh–five this morning you alerted us as to the possible disappearance of your husband, Mr. Robert Anthony Kettan. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that your suspicions were correct; Mr. Kettan was involved in a traffic collision at approximately eleven–fifty last night, on the eastbound lane of Jury Road. His vehicle was clocked at almost double the speed limit; it seems likely that he was trying to reach home before curfew kicked in. From what we can gather, he lost control of the car at the Maven Street corner, skidded, and flipped. The accident was reported almost instantly by another motorist, but your husband was pronounced dead at the scene. He paused. I’m sorry for your loss.

      Julia nodded. A numb feeling had started to spread through her stomach and up her throat. She’d never loved Robert, but after twelve years together, he’d become the devil she knew. Now, she’d have her pick of unfamiliar fiends. If you could call it a pick.

      As Agent James reached for the file, she fixed her eyes on a distant corner of the room, unable to bear the innocuous tap of stylus on screen.

      You have one child — Lily Lian Kettan, born July 8 2048, now aged twelve years. Is that correct?

      Her voice seemed to come from far away. It is.

      You have no exigency partner registered with the Bureau under Spousal Law 5.14?

      No.

      And have you attempted to register any such person in the past two to fourteen days?

      No.

      Agent James sighed. There was a faint click–click as he entered her responses. Routine, Julia told herself. That’s what this is. A routine.

      According to our records, Robert was not Lily’s progenitor.

      No. He wasn’t. Her father was already married. At Agent James’s raised eyebrow, she shook her head and corrected herself. I’m sorry. Her progenitor. Of course, Robert was her father.

      I see.

      Falling pregnant with Lily had been her first infraction against the Spousal Laws. Like homosexuality and abortion, single parenthood

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