Aurealis #135

By Stephen Higgins (Editor)

The latest edition of Aurealis, Australia's premier magazine of speculative fiction. Issue #135 features compelling fiction, fascinating non fiction, reviews and some truly fantastic artwork. Each issue of Aurealis contains quality new fiction from around the globe and is essential reading for anyone interested in science fiction and fantasy. Aurealis is published 10 times a year. For more information please go to www.aurealis.com.au or look us up on the social pages!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chimaera Publications
• Release date: Oct 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781922471000

Book preview

AUREALIS #135

Edited by Stephen Higgins

Published by Chimaera Publications at Smashwords

Copyright of this compilation Chimaera Publications 2020

Copyright on each story remains with the contributor

EPUB version ISBN 978-1-922471-00-0

ISSN 2200-307X (electronic)

CHIMAERA PUBLICATIONS

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors, editors and artists.

Hard copy back issues of Aurealis can be obtained from the Aurealis website: www.aurealis.com.au

Contents

From the Cloud—Stephen Higgins

Smile—Keith Oakden-Rayner

Mary, Mary—Fiona Bell

The Sin Eater—Michael Kellichner

CONQUIST Part 9: In the Halls of Demons—Dirk Strasser

Barbara Baynton and the Horror of Women’s Lives—Gillian Polack

Cthulhu in California—the Writing of Michael Shea—Emmet O’Cuana

The Opposite of a Broken Mirror: My Time at Gollancz—Part 1—Darren Nash

Reviews

Next Issue

Submissions to Aurealis

Credits

From the Cloud

Stephen Higgins

This may seem odd for an editor of a science-fiction magazine to admit but I’m going through one of those phases where I’m finding it hard to find something to read. I don’t mean short fiction. I get more than my fair share of short fiction here at Aurealis, but it’s hard to find new longer works to get stuck into. I love short SF. Always have. Like many others it was my entry point into science fiction in general. But I love getting lost in the world of a book. I’ve found myself starting many novels but just not getting into them sufficiently to keep going.

Another admission: I read almost exclusively on my iPad now. I know, I know. Heresy. And hey, if you’d told me years ago that I would prefer an e-reader to a ‘proper’ book I would have laughed in your face (with a mask on, of course) and sent you on your way. I love books. I previously had a study with three of the four walls filled with books. I was never going to read them all.

I’m hopeless at maths, but when you get to my age the equation gets easier to understand—X amount of years divided by X amount of books. It wasn’t looking good. So I got rid of them. I gave many to my school library, gave many to friends and family and sold a few boxes to a shop.

Now I get samples of books to try, which is a great idea. You get a sense of whether you’re going to like the novel or not. I’ve probably gone on to purchase about half of the books I first sample. But lately, not much is appealing. I read a while ago that your Sense of Wonder can get tired out. I mean, let’s face it, in all my years of reading SF and fantasy, I’ve come across an incredible number of amazing plots, scenarios, worlds, individuals, societies and aliens. So it gets harder and harder to actually be amazed. I think the last time I was genuinely blown away by a book was when I read The Scar by China Miéville. I heartily recommend it.

Anyway, I’m finding it tricky to find the next Scar. People recommend books. I trust the people at Aurealis and their taste in many things and I do follow up some of their recommendations. But lately, no luck. I don’t actually believe that it’s the fault of writers. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’

I’m hoping that it’s a passing phase. I’m in big trouble if it isn’t. The same thing is happening to me in music. And film. And work isn’t exactly setting me on fire enthusiasm-wise at present. God, I hope it isn’t a case of ‘Being tired of London’ because I can assure you I’m not tired of life. Anyway, recommendations for good reading are eagerly awaited. And I can’t guide your choices by offering the favourite authors since I have too many to list. Oh, alright then—Philip K Dick, Terry Dowling, my old china, China Miéville—and anything quirky is fine by me, so these are a few to help you.

All the best from the cloud!

Stephen Higgins

Editor: Stephen Higgins

Stephen has been interested in science fiction for ages and has written a few stories for Aurealis in the past. Lately, he’s been creating a lot of music. You can hear his music on Spotify, iTunes, Bandcamp and Soundcloud and all of the other usual places you get your music. You can find out more at www.stephenhigginsmusic.com.

Associate Editor: Scott Vandervalk

Scott Vandervalk has been a freelance editor for over eight years, with projects ranging across the globe, from educational textbooks to novels, short stories, roleplaying games and boardgames, amongst other types of text. Scott has previously worked in science and education support, both of which have led to editing projects related to those fields. When not editing, Scott can also be found dabbling in gardening, cooking, writing or designing and playing games. Scott currently serves as president of the Bendigo Writers’ Council. Website: scottvandervalk.com.

Back to Contents

Smile

Keith Oakden-Rayner

The only thing that mattered about a face was not wearing it first. The top crews worked in threes, swapped the face between them for days, switching in public restrooms where there were no cameras. One went in, swapped with two, and then they were out. A few hours later, two swapped with three, then three with one, and a week later the web was so complex that even the federal servers had lost you.

Teams slept in cheap hotels, never at the same place for more than one night. I was making enough money on faces that I threw in the rooms for free.

I wasn’t getting rich, but business was steady. I only worked with crews I trusted, and there was never a shortage of people willing to sell their face for a week or two. A few scans, and I had a new chip. Unemployment was over thirty percent; what did it matter if a seller stayed indoors for a few weeks? Identity theft was as common as bad weather. The seller stayed at home for a week or two, finally reported their identity stolen, and everyone’s pockets were a bit fatter.

I didn’t watch the news or read it online, but every now and then I caught a headline about a robbery, a fraud, kidnappers demanding a ransom. Occasionally, I recognised a face. Usually I didn’t.

Still, when the knock came, I wasn’t surprised. I had seen enough human nature to know that someone would rat on me eventually. It could have been anyone—hauled in, scared, buckled.

No-one knocks at six in the morning except police, so when the knock came, I pressed the button behind my bedhead, still half-asleep, and heard the buzz of the magnets in the safe under the bed, wiping the chips. I lay back while the front door of my apartment smashed inwards, hitting the wall with a crash. I closed my eyes and waited for the taser, the cuffs, knowing they wouldn’t be able to get me for the chips.

They didn’t.

Still, my work meant that I needed to keep a low profile, so I hardly went out, hadn’t for years. I ordered food to the door. I only sold to customers wearing faces of delivery people; it was one of my safeguards. They came in, away from the cameras in the hall and the street, and five minutes later they left with their empty delivery bag and a new chip in their pocket. I had refined my business to the point that I didn’t need to leave my apartment at all. As a result, I didn’t.

So, when the cops showed me footage from a jewellery store robbery, and the gunman ripping off his ski mask as he slid into a waiting car, revealing my face as he ducked into the back seat, I had no alibi.

They even timed the robbery so another customer was at my apartment buying a chip while the store was hit. They’d thought of everything. I had to keep my mouth shut and wear it. It was a good double-cross; all it took was a bug in my apartment, a tiny camera stuck near the front door, for them to get enough footage of my face to make a 3D model, print a chip, and it was me in the shop.

I got six years.

I’d heard a week was a long time in jail. Six years felt like a lifetime. A lot of people would have grown bitter as the months crawled by, become angry. I didn’t. My business had always been a challenge, a game. I had been outplayed. I respected them, whoever they were.

But I was fickle. If I didn’t win, I didn’t want to play again. When I got out, I had no interest in restarting my business. I had money stashed in boxes across the country, so I caught trains from state to state, scooped it up, and bought a ticket off Earth, using the last face I’d stashed away, my little silver chip to freedom.

After six years inside, and four years in business before that, being myself again took some getting used to.

I hadn’t made friends since school. I was a ghost coming back to life. Slowly, working in the kitchen of a diner on a no-name satellite, a dingy little stop-off for miners returning to Earth, I gradually let my guard down and got to know my colleagues and some of the regulars.

I didn’t invent a personality. I was me, just with a gap of ten years that I didn’t talk about. But everyone leaves Earth for a reason, the saying goes, so no-one asked.

I was free, but I had to learn to relax and sink back into myself. It took time to bring down the walls, the layers that I’d put up in my work,