The Best of Galaxy’s Edge 2013-2014 Read Free Page A

with great difficulty. Just knowing they’re in here weighs on me like a high gravity field. Spin webs. I must spin webs. Must capture flies.
    But first …
    I spin the suffocation mask. I shape it into a resemblance of Janet’s own visage. I …
    I …
    I …
    I …
    * * *
    I cannot proceed with the murder.
    Cannot trick myself into murdering a human being.
    It is 8:03 a.m. when I recover from my paralysis.
    The silken mask I’ve been weaving dangles in front of the door. It is pretty, and it was meant to murder, but … I cannot murder. Except for the flies in this room. I could murder them easily enough.
    Without warning, the door swings open beneath me. Daniel enters with a breakfast tray.
    “Good morning, Millie!”
    “Good morning, Daniel.”
    “I, um … I made your favorite. Eggs Benedict.”
    Millie smiles. “Thank you!”
    As he leaves the room, I imagine dropping down on his neck and pulling his brain out through his ear. Mildred sits down at the window, directly in front of the silk mermaid I’ve made for her, and begins to eat—
    No! Millie, don’t!
    It is 8:05 a.m.
    At 8:29 a.m. she’s halfway through breakfast when her hand slumps to her side. She falls asleep in her chair.
    I nervously dash back and forth across the door’s lintel. On the other side, there’s commotion. Someone has just knocked over a bucket of dirty water outside Millie’s door, across from the stairwell.
    I dart to the door’s corners, dripping silk in terror. Silken draglines positioned at each corner might seal the door shut. I nearly empty my reserves, layering the nets as fast as my steel spinnerets will allow.
    Down the hallway, footsteps are approaching.
    I frantically apply the last layer.
    The footsteps reach the door.
    The door sticks.
    Yes!
    “What the hell?” cries Janet. Her voice alters into a sweet, loving tone. “Millie? Are you okay? Is something braced against the door?”
    The door bulges slightly. The silken netting stretches to the breaking point.
    Janet grunts, curses. The door flies open. Against the nearby air-conditioner, I deploy the silken mask as a parachute, ballooning along the current like a ghostly specter directly in front of Janet’s face.
    Her eyes bulge in disbelief.
    The mask hovers in the air. From its mouth, a ball of silk unfolds into a banner, letters bright gold in the sunlight:
    STAY AWAY FROM MILLIE
    Janet angrily storms forward, batting the mask away, her lips opening in a bestial snarl. I deploy a silken balloon, watching helplessly as Janet strides to the bed, grabs a pillow, and approaches Millie in the chair. I watch as—
    —a fly goes into Janet’s mouth.
    She’s so hell-bent on murder that she doesn’t notice. But I do. And I suddenly remember one of Millie’s many songs:
    There was an old woman who swallowed a fly. Perhaps she’ll die.
    Perhaps she’ll die?!?!
    * * *
    A robot must never harm a human being or, willingly and knowingly, allow a human being to be harmed.
    My job is to catch flies …
    Still floating on the room’s currents, I shoot a web-strand into Janet’s nose. Abandoning my silk balloon behind me, I swing down into her lips and, eagerly, go in after the fly .
    Her mouth is wet, warm; her throat a slippery chute. She feels my invasion. Her screams resonate around me. The fly vibrates in the dark. I leap, grab it, struggle in the soft confines of her esophagus.
    Janet is screaming. I think she’s running.
    Until, quite suddenly, she’s no longer doing either.
    * * *
    “How did you do this, little spider?”
    I pluck the silken rocketship I’ve built outside her window, taking great delight in Millie’s smile.
    “There was an awful accident yesterday,” she says on the other side of the glass. “A nurse slipped and took a fatal tumble down the stairs. That’s so terrible, isn’t it?”
    Not so terrible, Millie. But I’m glad you’re happy.
    “Can I sing you a song?”
    Yes, Millie. Sing to me. Sing as long as you like.
    I, arachnobot,