L. Ron Hubbard Presents Writers of the Future Volume 36: Bestselling Anthology of Award-Winning Science Fiction and Fantasy Short Stories

By L. Ron Hubbard, David Farland, Nnedi Okorafor and 28 more

Soar to new heights of Science Fiction & Fantasy.

Who are the top science fiction writers and illustrators of the future? The answer is here. Get to know tomorrow’s brightest creative talents chosen by some of today’s bestselling authors and celebrated artists including Kevin J. Anderson, Orson Scott Card, Larry Elmore, Brandon Sanderson, Dan dos Santos, and Robert J. Sawyer.

Enter brilliantly realized worlds of dystopian politics, magical realism, post-apocalyptic adventure and romance, dark fantasy and more.

Explore universes of unlimited possibility in which a cereal box becomes a Pandora’s box of good and evil . . . a troupe of artistic androids risk everything to catch the eye of a critic . . . and the foundation of a family, the very key to their existence, is not only inhabiting a home, but becoming it.

Discover the writers who push the boundaries—and break beyond them . . . the illustrators who envision the impossible—and render it real . . . the stories that challenge the way we see ourselves—and see the world in a new way.

The future of science fiction and fantasy is in your hands.

Anthology includes: 12 award-winning stories, 16 full-color illustrations, 4 bonus stories, and 4 articles offering art and writing tips.

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4 bonus short stories by L. Ron Hubbard, Katherine Kurtz, Jody Lynn Nye and Nnedi Okorafor.

“Borrowed Glory” by L. Ron Hubbard: For a single day of glory and the settlement of a dispute among immortals, a life can be a satisfactory price.

“The Green Tower” by Katherine Kurtz: The magic is strong in the Green Tower, and two young girls struggle to discover its secrets.

“The Phoenix’s Peace” by Jody Lynn Nye: The Phoenix has always been the guardian of Dembia. Now there’s trouble in the land, and mysteriously, the Phoenix has left two golden eggs.

“The Winds of Harmattan” by Nnedi Okorafor: A young woman seeks her destiny in the African winds of Harmattan.

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Art and writing tips by Echo Chernik, L. Ron Hubbard, Mike Perkins, and Sean Williams.

“The Illustrators of the Future Contest and the Art of This Anthology” by Echo Chernik: As a successful advertising and publishing illustrator, Illustrators of the Future Coordinating Judge and art director, Echo gives the story behind the cherished art included in this anthology.

“Steps in the Right Direction” by L. Ron Hubbard: In this interview, Ron describes the practical philosophy and energetic disciplines he applied with such telling success to his own career as a professional author.

“Breaking In” by Mike Perkins: Marvel and DC artist for Captain America, Thor, and Spider-Man shares valuable advice for anyone wanting to make it as a professional artist and illustrator.

“Making Collaboration Work for You or Co-writing with Larry and Sean” by Sean Williams: New York Times bestselling author, provides insight on the pitfalls and advantages of collaborating with another author.

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“Science fiction as a genre has always looked to the future and the Writers of the Future looks to the future of science fiction.” —Kevin J. Anderson

“Writers of the Future has my heartiest support and unqualified recommendation.” —Terry Brooks

“Writers of the Future, as a contest and as a book, remains the flagship of short fiction.” —Orson Scott Card

“L. Ron Hubbard ignited the spark of imagination, which in the minds of these new artists has become a blaze.” —Bob Eggleton

“Some of the most excellent speculative fiction that you can find anywhere. They’re cutting edge. They’re new.” —Nnedi Okorafor

“Without Writers of the Future, I wouldn't be where I am today.” —Patrick Rothfuss

“These are the people who are going to be crea

• Language: English
• Publisher: Galaxy Press
• Release date: Apr 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781619866560

L. Ron Hubbard

With 19 New York Times bestsellers and more than 350 million copies of his works in circulation, L. Ron Hubbard is among the most enduring and widely read authors of our time. As a leading light of American Pulp Fiction through the 1930s and '40s, he is further among the most influential authors of the modern age. Indeed, from Ray Bradbury to Stephen King, there is scarcely a master of imaginative tales who has not paid tribute to L. Ron Hubbard. Then too, of course, there is all L. Ron Hubbard represents as the Founder of Dianetics and Scientology and thus the only major religion born in the 20th century.

Book preview

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An alien visits the International Space Station to provide a potential solution to climate change, for a price!

—The Trade by C. Winspear

A house is how you live on, how you keep giving to those you love after you are gone. It’s not an easy thing to escape.

—Foundations by Michael Gardner

How does one interpret the most profound human concept so an alien can understand?

—A Word That Means Everything by Andy Dibble

For a single day of glory and the settlement of a dispute among immortals, is a life a satisfactory price?

—Borrowed Glory by L. Ron Hubbard

Will yours be a good death or a bad one? You’ll have to catch it to find out.

—Catching My Death by J. L. George

Just what wonders or misery can a cereal box prize offer?

—A Prize in Every Box by F. J. Bergmann

How often would you reset time to save the love of your life?

—Yellow and Pink by Leah Ning

The Phoenix has always been the guardian of Dembia. Now there’s trouble in the land, and mysteriously, the Phoenix has left two golden eggs.

—The Phoenix’s Peace by Jody Lynn Nye

Know there is nothing here to harm you. Only your choices. Only yourself. The educational tapes will prepare you for your choice, I accept or I decline. There are no other options.

—Educational Tapes by Katie Livingston

What would you do if the air was taken from you but you couldn’t die?

—Trading Ghosts by David A. Elsensohn

Alien performers capture the imaginations of human audiences, but what is the cost to the performers and their people?

—Stolen Sky by Storm Humbert

A young woman seeks her destiny in the African winds of Harmattan.

—The Winds of Harmattan by Nnedi Okorafor

A landmine decommission expert struggles to connect with his nonhuman partner in the midst of an endless war.

—As Able the Air by Zack Be

The human race may not understand the alien race of skyylls, but we can feel their pain.

—Molting Season by Tim Boiteau

A troupe of androids risks everything by breaking the three laws of robotics to win the praise of a roving theater critic.

—Automated Everyman Migrant Theater by Sonny Zae

The magic is strong in the Green Tower, and two young girls struggle to discover its secrets.

—The Green Tower by Katherine Kurtz

L. RON HUBBARD

Presents

Writers of the Future

Anthologies

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Speculative fiction fans will welcome this showcase of new talent.… Winners of the simultaneous Illustrators of the Future Contest are featured with work as varied and as exciting as the authors.

—Library Journal starred review

Writers of the Future is always one of the best original anthologies of the year.

—Tangent

The Writers of the Future Award has also earned its place alongside the Hugo and Nebula awards in the triad of speculative fiction’s most prestigious acknowledgments of literary excellence.

—SFFAudio

Where can an aspiring sci-fi artist go to get discovered? … Fortunately, there’s one opportunity— the Illustrators of the Future Contest— that offers up-and-coming artists an honest-to-goodness shot at science fiction stardom.

—Sci-Fi magazine

The series continues to be a powerful statement of faith as well as direction in American science fiction.

—Publishers Weekly

The book you are holding in your hands is our first sight of the next generation of science fiction and fantasy writers.

—Orson Scott Card

Writers of the Future Contest judge

Represents the breadth and depth of today’s speculative fiction.

—Booklist magazine

This is an opportunity of a lifetime.

—Larry Elmore

Illustrators of the Future Contest judge

The road to creating art and getting it published is long, hard, and trying. It’s amazing to have a group, such as Illustrators of the Future, there to help in this process— creating an outlet where the work can be seen and artists can be heard from all over the globe.

—Rob Prior

Illustrators of the Future Contest judge

The Writers of the Future experience played a pivotal role during a most impressionable time in my writing career. And afterward, the WotF folks were always around when I had questions or needed help. It was all far more than a mere writing contest.

—Nnedi Okorafor

Writers of the Future Contest published finalist 2002 and Contest judge

I really can’t say enough good things about Writers of the Future.… It’s fair to say that without Writers of the Future, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

—Patrick Rothfuss

Writers of the Future Contest winner 2002

If you want a glimpse of the future— the future of science fiction— look at these first publications of tomorrow’s masters.

—Kevin J. Anderson

Writers of the Future Contest judge

L. RON HUBBARD

Presents

Writers of the Future

VOLUME 36

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The year’s twelve best tales from the Writers of the Future international writers’ program

Illustrated by winners in the Illustrators of the Future international illustrators’ program

Four short stories from authors L. Ron Hubbard / Katherine Kurtz / Jody Lynn Nye / Nnedi Okorafor

With essays on writing and illustration by

L. Ron Hubbard / Mike Perkins / Sean Williams

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Edited by David Farland

Illustrations Art Directed by Echo Chernik

GALAXY PRESS, INC.

© 2020 Galaxy Press, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Any unauthorized copying, translation, duplication, importation or distribution, in whole or in part, by any means, including electronic copying, storage or transmission, is a violation of applicable laws.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

For information, contact Galaxy Press, Inc. at 7051 Hollywood Boulevard,

Hollywood, California, 90028.

The Trade: © 2020 C. Winspear

Foundations: © 2020 Michael Gardner

A Word That Means Everything: © 2020 Andy Dibble

Steps in the Right Direction: © 2010 L. Ron Hubbard

Borrowed Glory: © 2008 L. Ron Hubbard

Catching My Death: © 2020 J. L. George

A Prize in Every Box: © 2020 F. J. Bergmann

Yellow and Pink: © 2020 Leah Ning

The Phoenix’s Peace: © 2020 Jody Lynn Nye

Educational Tapes: © 2020 Katie Livingston

Trading Ghosts: © 2020 David A. Elsensohn

Stolen Sky: © 2020 Storm Humbert

The Winds of Harmattan: © 2013 Nnedi Okorafor

As Able the Air: © 2020 Zack Be

Molting Season: © 2020 Tim Boiteau

Automated Everyman Migrant Theater: © 2020 Sonny Zae

The Green Tower: © 2002 Katherine Kurtz

Illustration for The Trade: © 2020 Arthur Bowling; illlustration for Foundations: © 2020 Aidin Andrews; illlustration for A Word That Means Everything: © 2020 Heather A. Laurence; illlustration for Borrowed Glory: © 2020 Cassandre Bolan; illlustration for Catching My Death: © 2020 Kaitlyn Goldberg; Illustration for A Prize in Every Box: © 2020 Ben Hill; illlustration for Yellow and Pink: © 2020 Irmak Çavun; illlustration for Educational Tapes: © 2020 John Dale Javier; Illustration for Trading Ghosts: © 2020 Mason Matak; illlustration for Stolen Sky: © 2020 Anh Le; illlustration for The Winds of Harmattan: © 2020 Brittany Jackson; illlustration for As Able the Air: © 2020 Brock Aguirre; illlustration for Molting Season: © 2020 Daniel Bitton; illlustration for Automated Everyman Migrant Theater: © 2020 Phoebe Rothfeld; illlustration for The Green Tower: © 2020 John Dale Javier

Cover Artwork and illustration for The Phoenix’s Peace: © 2020 Echo Chernik

This anthology contains works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Opinions expressed by nonfiction essayists are their own.

Trade paperback ISBN 978-1-61986-659-1

EPUB ISBN 978-1-61986-656-0

Kindle ISBN 978-1-61986-657-7

Printed in the United States of America.

Writers of the Future (word and medallion) and Illustrators of the Future and its logo are trademarks owned by the L. Ron Hubbard Library and are used with permission.

Contents

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Introduction by David Farland

The Illustrators of the Future Contest

and the Art of This Anthology

by Echo Chernik

The Trade by C. Winspear

Illustrated by Arthur Bowling

Foundations by Michael Gardner

Illustrated by Aidin Andrews

A Word That Means Everything by Andy Dibble

Illustrated by Heather A. Laurence

Steps in the Right Direction by L. Ron Hubbard

Borrowed Glory by L. Ron Hubbard

Illustrated by Cassandre Bolan

Catching My Death by J. L. George

Illustrated by Kaitlyn Goldberg

A Prize in Every Box by F. J. Bergmann

Illustrated by Ben Hill

Yellow and Pink by Leah Ning

Illustrated by Irmak Çavun

Making Collaboration Work for You

or Co-writing with Larry and Sean

by Sean Williams

The Phoenix’s Peace by Jody Lynn Nye

Inspired by Echo Chernik’s Uncertain Egg

Educational Tapes by Katie Livingston

Illustrated by John Dale Javier

Trading Ghosts by David A. Elsensohn

Illustrated by Mason Matak

Stolen Sky by Storm Humbert

Illustrated by Anh Le

Breaking In by Mike Perkins

The Winds of Harmattan by Nnedi Okorafor

Illustrated by Brittany Jackson

As Able the Air by Zack Be

Illustrated by Brock Aguirre

Molting Season by Tim Boiteau

Illustrated by Daniel Bitton

Automated Everyman Migrant Theater by Sonny Zae

Illustrated by Phoebe Rothfeld

The Green Tower by Katherine Kurtz

Illustrated by John Dale Javier

The Year in the Contests

Writers’ Contest Rules

Illustrators’ Contest Rules

Introduction

by David Farland

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David Farland is a New York Times bestselling author with more than fifty novels and anthologies to his credit. He has won numerous awards, including the L. Ron Hubbard Gold Award in 1987, and has served as Coordinating Judge of the Writers of the Future for more than a dozen years.

He has helped mentor hundreds of new writers, including such #1 bestselling authors as Brandon Sanderson (The Way of Kings), Stephenie Meyer (Twilight), Brandon Mull ( Fablehaven), James Dashner (The Maze Runner), and others. While writing Star Wars novels in 1998, he was asked to help choose a book to push big for Scholastic, and selected Harry Potter, then helped develop a bestseller strategy.

In addition to his novels and short stories, Dave has also assisted with video game design and worked as a greenlighting analyst for movies in Hollywood. Dave continues to help mentor writers through the Writers of the Future program, where he acts as Coordinating Judge, editor of the anthology, and teaches workshops to our winning authors. He also teaches online classes and live workshops.

Introduction

Welcome to L. Ron Hubbard Presents Writers of the Future Volume 36.

The Contest judges and I, with the help of our first reader Kary English, take pride in discovering the world’s best new authors in the field of speculative fiction every year.

I only have one goal for this anthology: to make each volume better than the last.

That’s a tough job. Finding publishable stories isn’t hard, but last year’s anthology was so wonderful, how can we beat it? It became a bestseller and won an award, as did the one before that. So we hope that today’s new authors will really wow us.

I think that we’ve succeeded. The writing and artistic talent in Volume 36 is exceptional!

Of course, the stories are still judged blind. We don’t get to know who sent the story, what race or gender the author is, or what country the story came from. We only judge each submission based upon the quality of the story.

I ask myself questions like, How original is this idea? On the level of plot, does it hold me enthralled? How great of a stylist is this author? and How does this one stack up against the many other submissions in this quarter? Does it affect me emotionally? and Is it memorable?

Maybe those are the reasons why the anthology is so good.

Both Contests grew larger and the number of submissions were at their highest ever. The competing writers and artists are aware just how hard it is to win, so they give it their best.

In this volume, we have a dozen new authors to introduce from the United Kingdom, Australia, and the United States.

The writer winners featured in the anthology are paid for publication. In addition, they’re paid prize money just for winning, and will fly to our awards ceremony in Hollywood, California, where they will be treated to a workshop taught by some of the biggest writers in the field of science fiction and fantasy—folks like Kevin J. Anderson, Orson Scott Card, Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Nancy Kress, Katherine Kurtz, Larry Niven, Nnedi Okorafor, Tim Powers, Brandon Sanderson, and more. Of course, the workshop itself was created by the Contests’ founder, L. Ron Hubbard, and he is represented in the workshop by his own written materials.

Then, one of the first-place winners of the Writers’ Contest will be awarded the grand prize of $5,000. When you consider the value of the prizes and payment for publication, this becomes the top market in the world for new writers.

In the same way, aspiring illustrators send in art each quarter, hoping to win a prize. These fantastic images are judged first by the Coordinating Judge for the Illustrators’ Contest, Echo Chernik, then go to a blue-ribbon panel of judges, including such legendary figures as Ciruelo, Diane Dillon, Bob Eggleton, Craig Elliott, Larry Elmore, Val Lakey Lindahn, Mike Perkins, Rob Prior, Dan dos Santos, and Shaun Tan. The quarterly winners are then commissioned to illustrate one of the winning stories from the Writers’ Contest—included in this volume—and with them they compete for the Illustrators’ Contest $5,000 grand prize.

We’ve also got great stories from Jody Lynn Nye, inspired by our cover, and from our new judge Katherine Kurtz, who brought us a tale from her Deryni universe, and an African-based fantasy story from Nnedi Okorafor, along with a classic tale from the founder of the Contests, L. Ron Hubbard.

The anthology also boasts articles with sound advice from Contest judges Sean Williams, Mike Perkins, Echo Chernik, and timeless guidance from L. Ron Hubbard.

So without further ado, sit back and enjoy!

The Illustrators of the Future Contest and the Art of This Anthology

by Echo Chernik

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Echo Chernik is a successful advertising and publishing illustrator with twenty-five years of professional experience and several prestigious publishing awards.

Her clients include mainstream companies such as: Miller, Camel, Coors, Celestial Seasonings, Publix Super Markets, Inc., Kmart, Sears, Nascar, the Sheikh of Dubai, the city of New Orleans, Bellagio resort, the state of Indiana, USPS, Dave Matthews Band, Arlo Guthrie, McDonald’s, Procter & Gamble, Trek Bicycle Corporation, Disney, BBC, Mattel, Hasbro, and more. She specializes in several styles including decorative, vector, and art nouveau.

She is the Coordinating Judge of the Illustrators of the Future Contest. Echo strives to share the important but all-too-often neglected subject of the business aspect of illustration with the winners, as well as preparing them for the reality of a successful career in illustration.

The Illustrators of the Future Contest and the Art of This Anthology

The Writers and Illustrators of the Future Contests were created by L. Ron Hubbard with the purpose of discovering precious talent and providing the means to give it wings to fly.

It is every artist’s dream to create something perfect, something special and beautiful, to share their creation and have the world appreciate it. Yet so many wonderful gems remain undiscovered. It is challenging and difficult to bring these creations to the world, which is why the Writers and Illustrators of the Future Contests are so important. These Contests give authors and illustrators a way to share their talent, to be recognized by their idols, and to receive support and help lift them to even higher levels of success.

We, the judges and past winners of the competitions, want to see you succeed in your dreams and fly high! The judges are all successful, seasoned writers and artists who know how difficult the path to success can be, which is why we give our time and expertise so freely to those who are just beginning their journey.

I am honored to be the Coordinating Judge for the Illustrators of the Future Contest, and to have the very special opportunity—in the words of L. Ron Hubbard—to give tomorrow a new form by helping young illustrators achieve a strong start.

Participating is easy and free. The judging is all done blind, so the judges don’t know anything about the entrants other than the quality of their work. This Contest is legitimately one of the best opportunities a young artist can have.

We see entries from all over the world, and entrants don’t even need to speak English to enter or win. This year we have winners from Iran, Turkey, Vietnam, and across the United States. Each quarter three contest winners are chosen, so at the end of the year there are a total of twelve winners for the year.

The winning illustrators enter a second competition for the grand prize Golden Brush Award and $5,000. Each artist is commissioned to create an illustration to accompany a Writers of the Future Contest winning story. These amazing pieces are all included in this anthology.

All winners are flown to Hollywood for a huge black-tie celebration and book signing. They also spend an entire week learning the ins and outs of being a successful commercial artist in today’s world. There are seminars and lectures by famous illustrator judges and guest speakers. It’s an invaluable experience centered on providing benefit and a head start to the Contest winners, with the goal of leaving the young professional artists full of the knowledge and confidence needed to succeed.

In addition to all of that, this year I was invited to conceive and design the cover for L. Ron Hubbard Presents Writers of the Future Volume 36. It was important to me to reflect the spirit of the Contest.

The Uncertain Egg is a piece about undiscovered potential. It’s about hope, dreams, and the unknown. The illustration is also about being supported and encouraged—and given the wings to fly. L. Ron Hubbard dreamed of helping undiscovered talent soar and succeed, and we strive to continue that legacy by providing support, encouragement, publicity, and education to the burgeoning talent that is upcoming.

It doesn’t matter how old you are, or how long your treasures have been hidden—success as a writer or artist can be found at any age or point in your life. I encourage you to submit your work to these Contests, and to keep submitting every quarter. Believe in your dream, and never get discouraged. With perseverance and hard work, you can bring your dream to life, and the Writers and Illustrators of the Future are here to help launch you to fly as high as you can dream!

The Trade

written by

C. Winspear

illustrated by

Arthur Bowling

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chris Winspear is an Australian author and poet with a master’s in creative writing from the University of Technology Sydney. He ran his own 3D printing business before working for the Transport Department. He dreams about how much more efficiently transport will run once the AIs take over.

He was a state-level fencer, but we assure you that there are no laser swords in this story.

Chris is obsessed with travelling, having volunteered in Peru, studied in Korea, and worked in upstate New York. He hopes to visit Mars one day—but will settle for the Moon.

He is currently seeking an agent to represent his standalone novels All for Birth and 1001 Nights under the Sun.

You may learn more about him at https://cwinspear.com/

ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR

Arthur McKinley Bowling III was born in 1990 in the small town of Devil’s Lake, North Dakota. He’s known as Kenny by friends and family.

Arthur has always had an interest in drawing, using whatever tools he could to depict his favorite characters from video games, TV shows, and anime.

He began to see art as a career option thanks to encouragement from his family. While Arthur was still in high school, his parents nurtured his artistic pursuits by signing him up for classes with Art Instruction Schools to learn the fundamentals of art and design. He later graduated from Minnesota State University, Moorhead’s art program with a bachelor of fine arts in illustration and bachelor of arts in painting.

After college Arthur continued to push his work to the next level, studying under acclaimed artists such as Jon Foster and Donato Giancola through independent mentorships. He is currently living in Columbia, Maryland, where he continues to develop his artistic skills through mentorships, workshops, and the online arts community. He hopes to bring his work to games, books, and magazines soon.

You may learn more about him at http://artofarthur-bowling.squarespace.com/.

The Trade

It was the best view humanity had to offer, but I still felt unfulfilled.

I held my camera a few millimetres from the zenith window of the International Space Station’s cupola and gazed down at what had become the common sight of Earth hanging beneath me. From up here, you couldn’t tell that the planet was heating up, or that the nations had nuclear ICBMs pointed at each other. I zoomed into clouds and continents and snapped shot after shot, hunting for something in that arcing landscape of blues and whites, maybe angels. Whatever it was, I didn’t find it.

I stood on top of the world, but today the view made me feel uneasy. Odd. Maybe I’d feel better if I was over the moon.

I swung the camera around and snapped my daily selfie. Husband tax, Oleg called it. Sometimes I felt bad for not missing him as much as he missed me. I checked the photo and grimaced at my unruly zero-g hair and the wrinkles under my eyes. At least my smile looked bright and cheerful, convincing enough even for Oleg, who should have known better.

My unease remained, a silent siren of discomfort in the back of my mind. What was the problem? It couldn’t be vertigo or fluid shift. I’d adjusted to all that. I glanced out the port window at the Space Station Remote Manipulator System, the station’s huge Canadian robotic arm. Wasn’t the SSRMS supposed to have moved along by now in its survey? Ground must have found something. Maybe I was anxiously anticipating their call.

Or maybe I felt uneasy because the magic of space had already become dull and routine, as if the majestic sight of Earth from orbit was no more special than the view out of my old kitchen window. I’d made it up here onto the ISS, and yet after two months this amazing life in microgravity no longer produced any sense of thrill or achievement.

What was wrong with me?

My name, Lena Sokolov, would be engraved in the lists of early astronauts, glorified for as long as humanity survived. But that wasn’t enough. I wanted to go to Mars. I wanted to go to Alpha Centauri. I wanted to be immortal and to lead the disheartened human race into a more optimistic future. Even then, the unknown thing I hunted with my camera might still remain out of reach.

I glanced again at the photo and my unease heightened alarmingly. In the background of the image, the stars looked wrong. Too bright. I turned to the bow window and noticed what my subconscious had picked up half an hour ago.

But I couldn’t believe it. The stars weren’t skewed or faint. There had to be something wrong with my eyes. My consciousness, unlike my instincts, possessed incredible powers of denial. Only after a few minutes of blinking and experimenting with the camera did I accept what I saw.

A transparent wall hung past the bow of the station, stretching and skewing the stars beyond. A wall or a hull? The effect reminded me of those incredible deep-sea fish that could change their skin to match the ocean floor beneath them.

Something gigantic had camouflaged itself and crept up on us, coming to rest outside our main docking adapter.

I glanced back to the SSRMS, which remained stationary. Had the transparent thing also cut off our communication with Ground?

Lena, Node Two, now! Yuma’s scream reverberated through the station.

I pulled myself down, gripping blue handle after blue handle, turning at Node One and throwing myself down the US module Destiny. Yuma floated ahead of me at Node Two, looking out the hatch window.

The walls shuddered.

My unease turned to panic, then to excitement. At last something interesting, something we hadn’t trained for!

A vessel’s trying to dock, Yuma said. Radio’s jammed. Are we being invaded? Where’s Nat?

I looked through the little circular window of the hatch. I couldn’t see anything outside. At first this disappointed me, but then I remembered I should’ve seen stars. Something was out there, blocking the view.

Natalie! Node Two! Yuma shouted. Then he whispered to me, Who could it be? The Chinese?

The wall of camouflage I’d seen from the cupola covered a gigantic volume, enough to contain all the satellites and shuttles ever launched from Earth.

Not human, I answered.

What?

The hatch clacked.

Yuma grabbed its steel latch and held it in its locked position. I almost criticised him for this desperate action—as if spacefaring aliens couldn’t get through a simple lock—and what if we offended them? But I couldn’t send poor Yuma into an even worse panic. That would be bad expeditionary behaviour.

The steel latch jumped out of Yuma’s grip. The hatch opened with a pop and a hiss. Compressed air from the other side spilled into Node Two, tasting more earthy and natural than our own. The gust pushed us away.

By the time Yuma and I grabbed a handle and oriented ourselves, a man had emerged from the open hatch. He was dressed in a navy-blue jumpsuit identical to our own uniforms, although stripped of its badges, flag, and nametag. The module behind him didn’t appear alien at all, more like a mirror image of our Node Two.

Hello, humans! The man waved his palms wide.

Yuma yelped.

I made sure I had a good grip on the surfaces around me.

Am I first? the man asked. Tell me I’m first.

We stared.

Yep. I can see from your faces that I’m first. Hell, yeah!

He fist-pumped the air, kicking and catching handles to do a 180° sideways flip. He continued talking to us upside-down.

Numero uno, baby! It’s a real pleasure to welcome you to the galactic community. I’m here to— Sorry, is this distracting?

He flipped his body back round the same way as us, his head now perfectly level with my own. Although the alien looked human, I’d never met anyone who could so confidently toss themselves around in microgravity.

"I am a trader. I trade things for other things, et cetera. You can call me—let’s have a look—how bout Daikoku, in honour of Yuma here? Swell. Listen, my arrival is fantastic news for you. And not just because I’ve got over two hundred million tons of goodies that have travelled at relativistic speeds for you to browse."

We stared.

Hmm. Your faces—he pointed at each of us—are not nearly in proportion to the scope of this opportunity. You gotta pick up that excitement by about 2000%. Okay?

Yuma nodded automatically. Even I found myself smiling, erring on the side of politeness.

Better. You’ve made it guys! At the next convention, I’ll add you to the trade routes, and then you’ll have visitors all the time. So, let’s talk. If you could have anything in the universe, what would you want?

I thought of Oleg at home, a frown across his face as he told me about the latest swarm missile test. I’d watched the news myself and seen banners with red letters, The dead don’t pollute, while on the other side of the world another country voted against the UN’s carbon tax, its new leaders expressing their confidence in laser-based antimissile defences. Everyone knew those defences didn’t work against swarm missiles but talking about lasers made everyone feel better anyway. They reminded people of the ’80s, when things were simpler.

I think we’re going a bit fast here, I said. Yuma, are you okay?

I’m fine, Yuma responded, though he was clearly hyperventilating.

He’ll be fine, the trader insisted. Now, if you could have anything at all?

No. We needed a second to process this. And where the hell was Natalie? I thought of something to slow this all down.

It’s rude for us to negotiate without offering something first, I said. Would you like a drink?

The man’s eyes seemed to glow green as his grin spread wide. Free?

We turned around and began the short journey to the next module, Destiny. Each second gave my brain a better chance of processing that this was really happening.

An alien. A real alien. The trader must have made a deliberate choice to appear human, to match our navy-blue uniforms, and to board through a replica of Node Two. His voice had an American accent and he enunciated his words with all the punch and emotion of a TV star. Maybe he’d learned English by listening to broadcasts from orbit. Meanwhile, his pick of a Japanese name showed he knew of our nationalities and cultures. How long had he been observing us?

I whispered to Yuma. What does Daikoku mean?

It’s like a god of commerce.

Let’s use Daiko for short, said the trader, who evidently possessed better hearing than a natural human.

If things turned violent, we had no idea what we were up against. I glanced at the tools on the wall. Node Two’s big wrench had chosen a good time to go missing from its Velcro strap. Though, realistically, none of our weapons could match those of a being powerful enough to travel between stars.

So where have you come from, Daiko?

Ohh, I’m old. Where I came from doesn’t exist anymore. A few laps around the galaxy will do that to you.

Laps around the galaxy? Even at relativistic speeds, that would have taken millions of years.

We floated on through the narrow rectangular hatchway into Destiny. The walls were littered with screens, papers, camera lenses, wires, and tubes, everything delicately stuck or strapped down. I felt a domestic need to apologise to our guest for inviting him into such a messy home.

And what brings you to Earth? Yuma asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Why, you guys, of course! This system sits in a part-DMZ–part-national-park between two competing civilisations. While passing through, I picked up some of your primitive radio signals and changed course. Finding new intelligent life, being first, that’s a big deal in my circles. Worth the detour.

The dispenser hung overhead. Yuma stuck in his water pouch. While it filled, we decided by tacit consensus to rotate ourselves, putting our heads to port, our feet to starboard, and the water dispenser in front of us. Yuma removed his pouch and glared at Daiko as he drank, as if hoping the alien would disappear after a few gulps of water. No such luck.

I thought of what I could offer Daiko. Green tea?

Why, thank you kindly.

As I filled the drink pouch, Daiko pushed himself down by the four monitors of the robotic workstation, the unused backup controls for the SSRMS.

You guys don’t realise that you’ve found a jinni in a lamp here. We’re talking space lift.…

Illustration of the alien and his offerings

Illustration by Arthur Bowling

One of the dark monitors came alive, showing a thin, curved tower that stretched out of the atmosphere, space vessels docked in a ring at its apex. I’d heard of theoretical projects that would launch equipment into orbit without the need of heavy fuel and rockets, starting a rush of space exploration and asteroid mining. I’d never imagined I could see that sort of development in my lifetime. Our nations were too busy dealing with failed crops, engineered viruses, and power shortages.

Or maybe some solar farms for your little global warming issue … said Daiko, as if he’d read my mind.

The next monitor showed a web of solar panels floating in space. They looked much cleaner and darker than our current tech. The image zoomed out to a map of Sol, showing three solar farms in very low orbit around the sun, even lower than Mercury, beaming their energy back to Earth. The monitor flicked to a diagram depicting the complex network of orbital relays and ground receivers that would distribute the near limitless energy supply around the world, forestalling our potential war over power generation and climate change.

Still too much for you? I guess you guys haven’t even really got into wave and tidal power yet. Seriously, tide comes in, tide goes out. Waves crash against the shore. Where there’s movement, there’s energy. Get on it.

Daiko snatched the green tea out of my hands. He slurped as a video began to play on the third monitor. Waves crashed against devices of all sorts: some concrete walls, some buoys that bobbed around, some turbines under the sea. The video then showed an expanse of water covered with a green, mossy film.

That’s algae, Daiko explained. You can use that to take CO2 out of the air. Also helps with your overfishing issue.

Right on cue, the film plunged under the waves, showing dozens of colourful fish. I knew I was watching a marketing presentation, but I didn’t care. I was awestruck. By waving his technological wand, Daiko could make all our problems go away.

Though your issue isn’t really tech, is it? It’s more those brutal economical-political systems. How ’bout some hyperintelligent AIs to run things? You’ll never need to work again.

The last monitor, which had displayed the controls for the station’s robotic arm, changed over to a video depicting a city of bubble-like skyscrapers. Hundreds of little quadcopter drones flew between the buildings. The video cut to a factory floor packed with thousands of robotic limbs, not a single human worker to be seen.

But how could we possibly power such industry? Every robot had a dozen unnecessary lights across its frame. Then again, Daiko didn’t have to think about climate change, did he? That’s how things must have been in my parent’s day. People could marvel at an invention for its own merit, without lunging at its CO2 implications like a drowning man at the floating debris of a sunken ship.

Daiko looked up at Yuma’s open-mouthed expression and the monitor went blank.

Oh, too far? I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll settle for an automated antinuclear defence system because, damn, you guys are badass! Like seriously, you’re lucky you’re in a DMZ. You’re so uncivilised the guys spinward from you would classify you as food, and under their law you’d have less rights than their favourite sweet and sour fungi. But then again they’re obsessed with taste. Let’s call ’em ‘Longtongues.’ The way humans have visual arts, novels, film, and games; these guys have salty, sweet, sour, and savoury. All their art is about taste. To be fair, their tongues are so sensitive that it’s like tasting in 3D colour compared to—

What do you want in return for these things? asked Yuma.

For the first time, Daiko’s arms ceased waving around and came to rest by his side.

It’s always about the cost, he sighed.

I, for one, didn’t care about the price. I remained engrossed in the future he’d presented, one where we could skip the woes of global warming and potential world war, where space exploration could begin in earnest with the space lift, where energy came cheap, where the air cleared up, and where AIs took care of all mundane labour so we could dedicate ourselves to our passions.

Gazing at the monitors, I wanted it all. I needed it all. Our existence seemed so primitive, so perilous, and so pathetic compared to the potential Daiko saw in us. Any price seemed reasonable. Anything—

One billion people.

I blinked. What?

The trader glanced to port. Sorry, forgot to do a pop count on your planet. You’re a little behind average. Let’s say, two hundred million people. Hey, one for every ton of my cargo.

You want our people?

Yeah, a few people. And I need the rights and permissions to take a scan of your planet, its art, and its digital networks. To be honest, I’ve already taken the scan, but certain civilisations insist on getting the natives’ permission.

Yuma and I stared at each other. I could see he was thinking the same thing: Did we even have a choice in this deal? The Spanish conquistadors hadn’t bothered to buy the Inca’s gold; they’d simply taken it.

"Hey, fellas, look at it from my view. Your main selling point is that you’re so damn cute. I mean, look at this

can.…"

The trader knocked on the wall. Aluminium, adorable! And your art … Wow! Your wars … Prime simulation potential! I mean, I’m practically your agent here. I want the galaxy to hear you sing. But I can’t do a tour off a recording. I need real personas to represent the culture. The Dwellers—my best customers—aren’t interested in museum pieces, they’re interested in flavours of consciousness. So I need people.

Slaves? I said. You’re saying you want us to sell you two hundred million slaves?

The trader scrunched up his face. "Slaves is a harsh word."

I glanced at Yuma, who seemed to be hyperventilating again.

Look, the trader continued. I sell to lots of civilisations. I can’t guarantee the legal rights of the repurposed population. But at worst they’d be treated like indentured servants, or minimum-wage workers. If they’re lucky, they might even live luxurious lives as household pets.

Pets! The trader wanted to sell us as pets! How could I respond to that? Yuma’s eyes offered no suggestions, only panic. Where the hell was Natalie? I needed to buy time again, slow things down.

We’ll need to talk this over with our superiors.

The trader laughed. No.

I felt my pulse quicken. Did Daiko really expect Yuma and me to make a decision for all of humanity?

But—

Listen, I’ve been down that path before. If you had a united planetary government, maybe. But the best you have is some piss-weak, pretty-please-if-you-could council that can’t even stop climate change. Besides, if your people know I’m giving you anything, then they’ll fight over it. The things you buy, I’m going to make it look like you discovered them yourselves. And I’ll leave a few drones behind to make sure the tech spreads around evenly.

In addition to his hyperventilating, Yuma now seemed to be turning blue.

Come on. Have some respect for yourselves, Daiko added. In some cultures, early astronauts are royalty and the space station is a very tall throne.

But surely there must be someone else on your ship you need to check things with?

Nope. No one but lonely old me.

Two hundred million tons of goods owned by one person? I found that unlikely. But then again, I had no idea of the trader’s true physiology. Maybe he was a hive-mind, or a machine, or some sort of organic space-leviathan.

Daiko threw up his arms. Okay. You’ve got a lot to take in. Let me retire for twenty-four hours. You can find your missing crew member, and we’ll talk tomorrow.

He began floating back towards Node Two.

I didn’t trust Daiko to show himself out, but I struggled to keep up with him as he flung himself through Destiny, nimbly grabbing handles to adjust his direction without stopping. I would have lost him if he hadn’t paused before the hatchway that led into his replica of Node Two.

Thanks for the tea. He smiled at me and handed back the drink pouch. "Just