Nancy Kress - Sex and Violence
Nancy Kress - Sex and Violence
by Nancy Kress
****
“Of course,” Dr. Shearing continued, “There’s always the theory that
life on Earth was seeded from the stars, by a cloud of drifting spores called
panspermia—”
****
“Forty point sixteen [time units] ago. It could have been an accidental
escape or...”
“Yes.”
“Not yet.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
“How could evolution ... oh, all right. Study them. But only for one [long
unit of time], and only if there’s no spread of the infestation.”
“Agreed.”
“After that, the [exterminator/cleanser/cover-up team].”
“Yes. Thank you, [honorific involving terms not only untranslatable but
capable of undermining human civilization].”
****
“I think it’s ‘molecules,’“ Jim said. God, she had such a body.
“Dunno.”
“We should study together—your notes are better than mine.” She
smiled at him and tossed her hair. One strand fell into her coffee cup.
Neither of them noticed.
He said, “Yeah, let’s study together ... you taking Bio 102 next
semester?”
“No, I’m a business major. But I have to pass this or I’m toast.”
“I’ll help you pass.” Their eyes locked. Pheromones shot out
energetically. [Notes] were [recorded]. The college cafeteria grew warmer.
****
Jim and Emily lay in bed, smiling at each other. Her long hair spread
in silky tentacles across the pillow. She didn’t yet know it, but one of Jim’s
sperm had just found one of her eggs and was burrowing inward with
ferocious violence.
Sol grew .00001 degree hotter (Kelvin). The Van Allen Belt shivered.
Thirteen tiny flop transitions occurred in the blink of an eye.