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Contents (Volatile While Hot) Editor’s Note —3— EP265: We are Ted Tuscadero for President By Chris Dahlen —4— Review: Shades of Milk and Honey by Marie Robinette Kowal Review by Sarah Frost —13 — EP266: Kachikachi Yama By Michael R. Underwood —14— Dark Fiction Magazine Q&A By Adam Christopher —22— EP267: Planetfall By Michael C. Lea —25— Review: A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burrows Review by Josh Roseman —33— EP268: Advection By Genevieve Valentine —35— Review: Zero History by William Gibson Review by Sarah Frost —43— Escape Pod Publisher: Ben Phillips – ben @ escapeartists.net Founder: Steve Eley – steve @ escapeartists.net Editor: Mur Lafferty – editor @ escapepod.org Assistant Editor: Bill Peters – bill @ escapeartists.net The Soundproof Escape Pod and all works within are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial- NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. All works are copyright their respective authors. Greetings! We at Escape Pod have been thrilled and gratified at the response for the first Soundproof Escape Pod. We got kudos for everything from the fact that it existed, to the awesome layout job by our own Bill Peters. Speaking of Bill, this month I want to announce our staff changes. Escape Pod is hitting its stride now, thanks mostly to our new assistant editor. We promoted Bill Peters from the inside joke of Assistant to the Regional Manager, or the Right A.R.M., to Assistant Editor. He wrangles the slush and makes sure I am on top of things, and I don’t know where I’d be without him. We’re also delighted to welcome Mat Weller on as our audio producer. If you listen to Escape Pod, you’ll notice that Norm Sherman of the Drabblecast (a fine, award-winning podcast you should totally listen to) is still a part-time host, who, incidentally, makes me work harder on my intros. There has been talk of the death of the short story for years now. It’s no longer a viable way to make a liv- ing; if you count your money made versus hours spent writing, you make pennies an hour; people care more about novels. Frankly, it’s getting tiresome because, taking a look at our slush pile, the short story is not dead, not even resting or pining or scared. I’ve been gratified to hear some people talking about how the Internet and podcasts are breathing life back into the (not dead in the first place) short story, since there are several paying markets with tens of thousands of listeners. We still can pay only 5¢ a word, but that’s something. If you’re looking for more quality audio fiction, check out Podcastle for fantasy, Pseudopod for horror, Drabblecast for weird, and Lightspeed and Clarkesworld for SF/F. There are many others, and we’ll profile them as the months go on. Speaking of slush, in order to get a hold of the reins of this mighty team of slush ponies, we’re closing to submissions over December. We’ll be back on the job in January, once the hangovers fade. And as for holidays, there are many in December, and nearly all of them mark that the nights are very long, but hey, that’s okay, because there’s hope. We get tied up so much in the stress to make things perfect or even to defend a holiday that no one is attacking, that we lose the realization that it’s all about hope. The sun will return, the oil lasted eight nights, a child was born. The stories that stem from these holidays - including the origin stories themselves - almost always have a sense of the speculative about them, the movements or births of gods, the dark, magical time of the year, the miracles that seem impossible. If you want to get some excellent speculative stories surrounding the holidays, there’s always The Star by Arthur C. Clarke, or any number of stories from SF master and Christmas lover Connie Willis. You can even check the archives of Escape Pod where you’ll find work by James Patrick Kelly, Jason Erik Lundberg, and one or two from myself. But in this collection, you will get the work from November, and it will include the stories Planetfall, Ka- chikachi Yama, Advection, and We Are Ted Tuscadero for President. We also have four pieces from our blog, including reviews of Shades of Milk and Honey, A Princess of Mars, and Zero History, and an inter- view with the new Horror web/podcast Dark Fiction Magazine that also has its second issue out today. We welcome your comments and feedback, and hope you have a lovely holiday season, no matter what you believe. We’ll talk again in 2011. Be mighty —— Mur Lafferty Editor, Escape Pod (And please don’t forget to include Escape Pod in your year-end giving!) 3 EP265:We Are Ted Tuscadero For President By Chris Dahlen My name is Ted Tuscadero. And I want to be your President. I say that with a humble heart. I realize that even after eight stellar years in the Senate, some of you are still getting to know me. And I’ll admit, I am not perfect. The other day, when I told a VFW in Littleton I would blast Iran to glass, and at the same exact time I swore off the war at a town hall in Concord? My bad. Or the time that three of me showed up for the big debate in Manchester, and we got in a fistfight over who was going on the air? Yeah, the chattering classes had a few laughs over that one. And that little incident before the holidays, when I crashed, as lit as a Christmas tree, into a pole and my car exploded, killing me instantly and taking a mailbox, a transformer and a barn cat with me? It looked bad, I know. But that proxy was on the fritz. That’s not me. That’s not who I am. And the more we talk, the better you get to know me, the more you’ll see what I mean. ### I am a lucky man. Of the hundred of me that fanned out across New Hampshire for the presidential pri- mary campaign, I landed in Fairport, a cute spot on the coast. My ex-wife would’ve called it “darling.” I didn’t even know New Hampshire had a coast until they drove me here and got me a room, looking over the harbor, the tugboats, the cobblestone streets. The whole place is loaded with money and photo ops. I like to think it’s payback for a job well done. For the last six months I’ve been shaking hands, holding town halls, and listening to cranky seniors and eager young back-to-the-earthers. I’ve eaten food on a stick that belonged in the trash. I’ve honed my laugh lines and I’ve sold my vision. The primary’s in January, and my opponent, Billy LaMontagne, has local roots. Three-time governor of neighboring Maine, well known and well liked in the area, LaMontagne doesn’t use proxies: he’s stumping the state all by himself. But he doesn’t need proxies when everyone with four teeth or fewer knows his face and thinks they can trust it. I’m the insurgent from New Jersey with everything to prove. Here’s what the focus groups say about me: “City slicker.” “Promises anything to anyone.” “Will take away our right to bear arms.” That one really gets me – LaMontagne likes to wave around an assault rifle during deer season to show all the yokels that he likes red meat and Milwaukee’s worst as much as the rest of them. And fine, next to that, I do look slick. It’s called “owning a comb and a necktie,” and I’ve been do- ing it since Princeton, thanks. LaMontagne can crack the screen, I’ll grant him that. When this is all over, he should really get his own line of barbeque sauce. But we’re talking about a national election. The guy has a loose mouth and a small mind and if he gets the nomination, the Republicans won’t even run against him: they’ll kick back and watch him destroy himself. So, this race isn’t just about me. It’s my duty as a loyal Democrat to put this guy down. But back to me. I have two jobs here in Fairport. First and foremost is the usual campaign stuff – shake a lot of hands, get a lot of money. But I also have a project. I was explaining it to an eighth-grader the other day. She was doing a thing for her school paper – which has a teeny readership made up of a totally non- voting audience, but hey, any press is good, and I never talk above an eighth-grade level anyway. We sat in the school gym, with old crumbly murals and the outlines of kids painted on the wall, all kind of round and blank – probably just the same kid painted over and over. Above it all flew a giant American flag, and 4 I made sure it was in the shot when she took my picture. “So, um, Senator Tuscadero -” starts the kid. “Call me Ted,” I say, flashing my brilliant white teeth. “Um, I’m not sure how to ask this, but – are you the real Senator Tuscadero, or -” “I’m a proxy,” I say, smiling again. I never let anyone feel awkward, especially about this.

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