Hub - Issue 10 Read online

  Hub

  Issue 10

  June 8th 2007

  Editors: Lee Harris and Alasdair Stuart.

  Published by The Right Hand.

  Sponsored by Orbit.

  Issue 10 Contents

  Fiction:

  I Look Forward to Remembering You by Mur Lafferty

  Reviews:

  Asylum written by Rob Williams, Drawn by Boo Cook

  Feature:

  Stardust-on-Wye

  Interview:

  Austin Grossman

  Wanting to Want

  One of Hub’s first published tales (Wanting to Want by Eugie Foster, Hub issue 1) is now available to download as audio fiction from pseudopod.org (although Hub are uncredited in the podcast). Congratulations to Eugie – it’s an excellent story, and highly recommended.

  British Fantasy Society Nomination

  Also from issue 1 of Hub, Alasdair Stuart’s Connected has been nominated for Best Short Fiction in the forthcoming British Fantasy Society awards. Congratulations to Al! Connected will shortly be distributed to all subscribers as a Hub Special – if you’re a member of the BFS and you enjoy the tale, please consider voting for it when your ballot papers come through.

  Help Hub

  If you are enjoying your weekly dose of free fiction, reviews and features please consider

  1) Sending this copy to someone else you know, and telling them to subscribe.

  2) Heading over to www.hub-mag.co.uk and making a small donation

  (despite being a free ‘zine, we pay our writers, so all donations welcome - no matter what size)

  3) Heading over to www.hub-mag.co.uk/wordpress and telling us what you think about the content of Hub. Your feedback will help us keep improving the magazine.

  Back Issues

  If you have missed any of the electronic-only versions of Hub (Issue 3, onwards) they can be downloaded free-of-charge from our website. Issues 1 and 2 (high quality, glossy printed magazines) can also be ordered for a small fee.

  Support Us

  Every week we will be publishing a piece of short fiction, along with at least one review (book, DVD, film, audio, or TV series) and we’ll also have the occasional feature, too. We can afford to do this largely due to the generosity of the people over at Orbit, who have sponsored this electronic version of the magazine, and partly by the generosity displayed by your good selves. If you like what you read here, please consider making a donation (of any size) over at www.hub-mag.co.uk.

  I Look Forward to Remembering You by Mur Lafferty

  First published as audio fiction by EscapePod at escapepod.org

  (Episode 61, 6 July 2006)

  The time whore - time escort, he'd insisted - stood in front of Susan Apple while she surveyed his virtues and flaws. She studied the ridges of his abdominals and the curve of his buttocks. He was thin and wiry, with tight muscles creating a compact frame devoid of any unnecessary bulk. The young man looked to be about twenty, with firm, pale skin. Susan looked him over for a good five minutes, instructed him to turn a couple of times, and finally to remove his boxer shorts.

  She smiled at last and gave a satisfied little sigh. He was just as she'd ordered. Without raising her eyes to his face, she asked, "So when do we begin?"

  "We just have some paperwork to go over," he said. He bent over to pick up his bathrobe and Susan stared as his muscles flexed. Kevin slipped the robe on with the slow grace of someone who was unashamed of his nakedness. "Once we take care of that, I'll go back to headquarters and take my trip back to 1992, find your younger self, and seduce her."

  "Excellent, Kevin," she said. She imagined saying his name after a night of sweaty sex, and it felt wrong. "Kevin. That won't work for me. I'd rather have you be Paul," she said.

  He nodded. "I'll introduce myself to you as Paul, then." He paused. "As long as there is no one in your past called Paul. That may cause confusion for your younger self."

  She kept her face straight. "No one."

  Kevin picked up his briefcase that he'd left by the door with his folded khakis and sweater. "We need to go over the paperwork before you sign, Ms. Apple." He walked to Susan's heavy oak dining room table and pulled a chair out for her.

  Susan gripped the sides of her chair and pulled herself to her feet. Her bad knee, injured twenty years ago in China, wobbled and threatened to give out. She hissed and it seemed to rethink its direction. She silently cursed her vanity that caused her to leave her cane in the other room. He was a whore; she didn't need to impress him. And anyway, she wouldn't be sleeping with him in her current state. She shuffled over to the table and took the proffered chair with a smile of thanks. Up close, he smelled of musk.

  Kevin looked quite businesslike and official in his bathrobe (complete with the monogrammed logo "TEI" - for "Time Escorts, Inc.") He put his briefcase on the table and leaned over her shoulder. He scent was more pervasive, and heat drifted off his skin as he slid a paper in font of her, brushing her arm. Susan swallowed.

  "I have been sterilized by both a vasectomy and a Nano Vas. I am tested for disease after every mission - you can see the documentation here." He pointed at the lines on the paper, which repeated his statements in more businesslike terms. She initialed the bottom of the page.

  "Here our are guarantees," he said, whisking the paper away and producing another one. "They protect you from time paradox, possible mental anguish, and a full money-back and experience-deleting guarantee."

  "That was what made me finally decide to do this," Susan admitted. She felt heat rise to her wrinkled cheeks for the first time that day.

  Kevin smiled, and she felt hotter. "That's what most of our clients say. We offer the best guarantee in the business. If you experience mental anguish, disease, family grief, physical harm or death due to this service, the experience will be erased and your money returned to you," he said.

  Susan stared at the legal jargon on the page and couldn't make heads or tails of it.

  "By signing this, however, you do acknowledge that there may be unavoidable changes to your current way of life," Kevin continued. "While we do cover drastic changes in the life path, we do not cover minor ones. You could wake up tomorrow morning wearing a different color of nightgown or be close friends with someone you currently hate. You will remember both paths of your lives, although the previous path - your current path, that is - will fade over time."

  Susan put up her hand. "Wait just a minute. Are you saying that I could wake up tomorrow a different person?"

  Kevin put a diagram in front of her. "Everything we do in life affects everything else. Your cat knocks your keys off the table and you take five minutes to find them. You leave later than you'd intended, and are not there when a bus driver loses control and kills three pedestrians. That tiny detail saved your life and you didn't even know it. We do everything in our power - with your help - to schedule the sexual encounter during a time in your life when it will affect the fewest number of outside events, but we cannot guarantee small changes won't happen. Not to mention how losing your virginity at 19 will change your life and make you take a different path than you are currently on."

  Susan made a face. This wasn't sounding as good as before. "What if I don't like the changes? Can I erase the encounter then?"

  "Of course," the escort said, smiling a charming grin. One of his front teeth was crooked. Susan felt a thrill of both excitement and anxiety; this guy was good. He knew his stuff. "We can modify the time continuum a second time if you are not satisfied with the outcome. These modifications do come with an additional fee, however." He handed her a rate card.

  Susan's eyes widened. She could have the encounter, then have it erased for double. That was u
nexpected. She looked into the fireplace across the room and her eyes drifted to the mantle. Pictures of her aiding children in Africa, meeting the UN Secretary to receive a humanitarian award, going walkabout in Australia, hiking in the Rockies. She was alone or with friends, never with a lover. She'd experienced nearly everything in life. Nearly.

  "Fine. Where do I sign?"

  #

  Kevin had promised to leave for 1992 that night at six o'clock. Susan had an early dinner of soup and soft bread - she could no longer chew the crunchy loaves she'd loved in her youth - and settled in front of the fire with a glass of wine. The memories should start flowing in around six-thirty, and by tomorrow morning she would remember everything about her sexual encounter with the handsome Paul that she had when she was nineteen. Plus anything that had changed due to the encounter.

  She sipped the wine and leaned back. Images, memories and smells began flowing to her, feeling recent as her mind processed the new memories. A bad day in college. She had been dumped by Bruce, her boyfriend who was turned off by her intelligence and her social awkwardness. He had been a bad kisser, she had told herself, crying as she walked across campus to her dorm. Then she had met a kind man, someone named Paul, who showed his concern for her by slowly and deliciously initiating her in the glories of the flesh.

  #

  Kevin thought that the young Susan wasn't that bad looking. He sat on the steps of the Foreign Languages building and waited for her to get closer. She held herself awkwardly, hunching over and hiding her form. She hadn't yet achieved the sharp intelligent confidence that the elderly Susan had; her intelligence was a hindrance to her, something that made others dislike and mistrust her. He had read Susan's account of her college years thoroughly and had run her journals through their personality computer. He knew just how to approach the young woman to begin the encounter.

  His employers had developed the personality matrix software. Even if people wanted to change their past to include more and better sexual encounters, their selves in the past wouldn't know what was coming. The encounter could fail at a costly loss for the company - traveling through time was not cheap, and they couldn't afford many refunds - or could even be construed as harassment or rape. Kevin did not know of any circumstances where this had happened, but the trainers at Time Escorts heavily emphasized the psychology of seduction to fit the person.

  She was crying, just as he'd expected. He took a deep breath - the first meeting was the hardest - and fell into step beside her as she scuttled past. He was so intent on catching up with her naturally that he didn't see the woman coming the other way. They brushed shoulders and she stumbled. Kevin excused himself quickly and fell into stop beside the sobbing woman.

  "Hey, are you OK?" he asked, putting concern into his voice.

  She sniffled and looked up at him. "What? Oh, I'm fine, yes, thank you. Yes."

  He smiled and saw her mouth hang open a moment. "You don't look fine to me. Fine people don't take a stroll on campus while crying their eyes out. What happened?"

  Her lower lip trembled and more tears spilled over her cheeks as she looked away.

  "Is it a guy?" he asked. She nodded.

  "Do you want to get some coffee and talk about it? I'm a good listener," he said. "My treat."

  She looked at him for a moment, and he saw her calculating the safety involved. This is it. "Do I know you?" she asked.

  "I've seen you in my Econ 10 class. I usually sit in the back," he said. He'd looked for the biggest class on her schedule, the easiest to get lost in. Most freshmen took that class. "I'm Paul." He extended his hand.

  She took it, and he let his fingers trace across her palm lightly after they had shaken hands. "Erica," she said.

  #

  Asshole, fucker, shitface, bastard, um, asshole. Susan ran through all of the swear words she knew, and when she was done, she repeated them. So she wasn't social enough, was she? She wasn't pretty enough, studied too much, partied too little, and wouldn't let him touch her there.

  "Maybe I wouldn't let you touch me there because you kiss so poorly that I'm afraid what you might do elsewhere!" she'd screamed at him before leaving. At least she'd gotten the last word in.

  She'd stopped by her Japanese TA's office to check her midterm grade and then got plowed into by some shmoe who said, "Sorry!" before running after some girl.

  Yeah, always they're chasing someone else. Fuckers. All of them. She rubbed her shoulder and decided to go back to her dorm by way of the Student Union. Walking her usual way would have her following the jerk and his girlfriend, and she really didn't feel like putting someone else's problems on her shoulders. It was her night to feel sorry for herself, dammit, and she was going to treat herself to a donut or three.

  She trudged to the Union, purchased her donut, and went to the TV lounge to see what was on the big screen. She stayed near the back, hoping no one would notice her blotchy face and her tear-streaked eyes.

  "Susan?" the voice said from behind her.

  She gasped, sucked in a bit of donut, and went into a coughing fit. A hand thumped her on the back and she was free of the offending pastry. She wheezed a bit and straightened up.

  "Oh man, I'm sorry, didn't mean to startle you!" It was Paul, her lab partner in geology. She avoided his blue eyes, as always, and looked directly at his slightly crooked teeth.

  "That's OK, I just didn't hear you come up," she said, trying to regain her composure. Aware of her swollen eyes and crumby mouth, she passed a hand down her face. Unfortunately, the hand had more sugar from the donut and she just succeeded in getting more stuff on her face.

  "Are you OK? You look, ah, upset," he said.

  "Oh, yeah, just had a bad night. Thanks. Just, stuff. You know," she gestured vaguely with her donut then dropped it in a wastebasket. She turned and grabbed for some napkins from the condiment table.

  Nonchalantly cleaning her hands and face, she attempted a smile at him. He still stared at her. "So, uh, what are you up to tonight?" she asked.

  "I was supposed to meet the anime club in a basement room, but no one showed, now I'm stuck with a bunch of tapes and some AV equipment. I just came up here to grab a Coke before having my own private viewing," he said, waving the bottle of Coke at her.

  "Do you like anime?" he asked.

  "Well, I've never seen any," she said, hoping he couldn't hear her thundering heart. "But I'm an International Studies major and hope to study in Japan in a couple of semesters."

  "Then you should watch some!" he said. "Come on!" He walked off towards the stairs without looking behind him.

  Men. Always expecting you to do what they say. She tried to think this with acidity, but it felt hollow. She'd nursed a crush on Paul all semester, but squashed it because of her relationship with Bruce. And hell, she knew she wasn't a catch.

  She followed.

  #

  Kevin's voice caught in his throat. This wasn't Susan, and he didn't know where she was. If he had missed her, he had no idea where she would end up. He'd have to try her dorm.

  But there was the problem of this girl. She looked up at him with wet brown eyes, taking in the natural charm he had inadvertently oozed at her. Shit, I'm so going to lose my job for this.

  He checked his watch and gasped. "Oh, crap, I'm sorry Erica, I forgot I'm late for a study group. I'm so sorry to leave you like this. Can we get that coffee in an hour? I'll meet you at the Daily Grind - I'll buy you the biggest double chocolate mocha you can drink."

  She bought it. "All right, thanks Paul. I really need someone to talk to now."

  Kevin dashed off towards Susan's dorm, pulling a map from his pocket.

  #

  Two episodes of Ranma 1/2 and Susan was hooked. Paul had insisted on watching in Japanese with subtitles, and she told him where the translation differed from what the characters really said. They sat next to each other on folding chairs and every once in a while their knees touched.

  While changing tapes, Paul looked at her. "So why
were you crying? Really."

  "I just got dumped," she said, looking at the floor.

  "Aw shit, I'm sorry. You were with that guy for, what, four months?"

  "Yes, how did you know?" she looked up at him.

  "Well," Paul focused his attention on the VCR. "I was going to ask you out, but you came to lab all excited about this new guy you were dating. So it kinda stuck in my mind."

  "Oh."

  "So what happened between you guys?" he hit a button and returned to his seat.

  "I am not enough of a party girl for him. Not pretty enough, not fun enough, not, you know, physical enough." She fiddled with the zipper on her jacket. Her ears were hot.

  "Oh, so you were a smart girl who wouldn't put out, right?" His voice was mocking.

  "What's wrong with that?" she asked.

  "Nothing at all. Just that he was a retard who didn't see what he had.

  "Check this out, there's a new character in this one." He pointed to the TV. "A guy who always gets lost."

  The opening credits came on, the chirpy Japanese theme song circling the confusion and excitement somewhere in Susan's middle.

  #

  Susan didn't answer the phone at her dorm, and no one would let Kevin through the locked doors to get up to her room without an escort. Had elderly Susan said something about sexual assaults going up that year? He couldn't get his focus.

  Where else? Susan was smart. Libraries. She was upset. Coffee shops or Student Union. She was heartbroken. Boyfriend's dorm? He had no idea. It was obvious his appearance had already changed something in the timeline; Susan was supposed to go from her boyfriend's dorm to her dorm, where she lived in a single room. Kevin was going to seduce her there with no interruptions. It was supposed to have been easy. Find the girl, console the girl, fuck the girl, get out. Easy money. He'd never messed up like this.

  With hope, he could still catch her. He checked his map again and went off at a run towards the library.