Letter From The Editor - Issue 68 - April 2019

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Issue 6
Night of Falling Stars
by Steven Savile
Great Mother, Great Father
by William Saxton
The Price of Love
by Alan Schoolcraft
A Spear Through the Heart
by Cherith Baldry
From the Ender Saga
Ender's Stocking
by Orson Scott Card
Tales for the Young and Unafraid
Lost and Found
by David Lubar
This is Only a Test
by David Lubar
InterGalactic Medicine Show Interviews

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How Peacefully the Desert Sleeps
    by Brad Beaulieu
How Peacefully the Desert Sleeps
Artwork by Scott Altmann

The first time I woke, blood fell upon the desert floor.
At the time, I didn't know whether it was good news or ill.

Kallie's coughing fit started, as it often did, when the alabaster sun brought the rising heat of the desert with it. When the fit had passed and the pain had subsided, she cleared her throat and spit blood-tainted phlegm onto the cracked desert floor. Then she stood tall on the driver's bench of her two-wheeled cart, hoping to see any sign of the Ohokwa village, but all that greeted her was a sea of adiwa cacti running clear to the horizon.

Kallie's heart sank as she dropped back into her creaking seat and took a long pull off her waterskin; it appeared she would need to rein in her pack bird and spend another scorching day under the direct sun before reaching Ohokwa Gorge. But she whipped her kuko into motion anyway, not willing to give up as long as she was able to withstand the heat.

Only minutes later, movement caught her eye. A few hundred yards up, two Ohokwa warriors bearing tall spears filed out from the cacti and onto the trail. With a whip of the reins and a cluck of her tongue, her kuko released a ragged caw and trudged faster.

With each passing second Kallie's anxiety rose. She was about to take the first real step toward healing the consumption that had struck over a year ago. She'd managed to enter tribal lands and elude the Shaukauna, the settler's fiercest opponent in their unquenchable thirst for westward land, but now it came down to talking, a skill Kallie hadn't been blessed with, and it soured her gut that her future depended on this one conversation.

Kallie was close enough now to see the details in their jet-black hair, which was braided behind their ears into two long strands. White folds of cloth hung loose around their shoulders, ready to cover their dark-skinned faces against the midday sun. They wore white shirts and pale leggings of the softest buckskin, embroidered with the angular designs of their people.

Kallie pulled her cart up short when the taller of the two warriors -- the one with a half-dozen tiny bones piercing the crown of each ear -- laid his spear across her kuko's path. Kallie let out a slow breath, trying dearly to fend off another coughing fit, and pushed up the brim of her wide, leather hat.

"How do?" Kallie said.

Rather than reply, the shorter Ohokwa whistled, his tongue fluttering to create a rhythmic warble. She'd never heard the call in person, but she knew good and well what was about to happen.

A buzzing, like a child blowing a blade of grass between his thumbs, cut through the desert air. Kallie swallowed hard as two red beetles the size of her hand crawled over the top of the nearest adiwa cactus. One of the dejda beetles raised its iridescent wing case and rattled. The second followed suit a moment later, then another, and another, and soon, the entire area was abuzz with their bone chilling call.

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