The Best of World SF by Lavie Tidhar (children's ebooks free online .txt) 📕

Kip had lobbed up four Pillbugs and was gripping the final cylinder when he heard Yazan’s call from below, only his head visible above the water.

‘Is that some sort of good luck ritual?’

Ignoring him, Kip ran his tongue around the rubber exterior and hurled the Pillbug. That made five. All going smoothly, within about ten minutes they would confirm that the deck was clear. As Kip descended the rope to the water, Yazan approached with a grin.

‘Do you know what a Skinner box is?’

‘Skinner?’ asked Kip.

‘The laboratory apparatus that gives out food when a lever is pulled.’

‘Oh, that,’ said Kip. ‘I do remember once seeing a monkey pumping the lever like crazy.’

When a Skinner box is set up to give food at each pull on the lever, animals only reach for it if hungry. But, if the food reward is inconsistent, doubt spurs the animals to keep pulling the lever incessantly…

‘That’s how it went, right?’ asked Kip.

‘Not quite,’ Yazan replied, shaking his head. ‘The interesting part comes next. Do you know what happens when food comes out randomly, with no connection to the lever?’

‘Cut the know-it-all attitude.’

‘The animals make a prayer ritual.’ Yazan chuckled. ‘If a pigeon happens to be facing right when food comes out,’ Yazan explained, ‘it becomes convinced that looking right triggers the reward. Even though turning its entire body has no effect, food does eventually come out. And so the pigeon believes that food will come if it spins around. Its movements steadily become more intense and complex.

‘What they’re doing is praying. Seeing you kissing Pillbugs reminded me.’

‘You’re saying I’m like those pigeons spinning in circles?’

‘No, I just thought those Pillbugs are themselves probably kissing the deck about now.’

‘You’re talking about machines,’ said Kip. ‘Something that sophisticated would be far beyond them— Oh, that was quick.’

Kip’s eyes fixed on the notification that had appeared to one side of his goggles.

‘The scan is complete. Let’s go.’

Using the rope to pull himself over the tanker’s side, Kip surveyed the deck, superimposed with 3D data from the Pillbug scans. Night-vision goggles made the starlight bright as day.

Following Kip over the gunwale, Yazan searched for cover and slipped into the shadow of a container with equally practised movements. Kip had just finished checking their route to the bridge, crowned with antennas, when the hum of a turbine engine made him drop to the ground.

The Cerberus had joined the party. All Kip had to do was stay still; with his body heat completely contained by the wetsuit, he would be invisible to the Cerberus at night.

One unit passed behind Yazan with a gliding motion. Where would the other two come from? Facing the direction of their approach, in the corner of his eye Kip saw a panicked Yazan leap to his feet.

What are you doing? Get down!

A dull thud made Kip duck his head.

A soccer-ball-shaped object rolled noisily to a stop in front of his face. As he registered its true form, a tremor tore through Kip’s body.

Yazan’s head.

From behind dislodged night-vision goggles, a pair of eyes wide with shock stared at Kip.

The sound of an engine reverberated again, accompanied by heavy metallic clanging, alerting Kip that the third Cerberus unit had drawn close. Kip twisted his head towards the source of the noise.

Before his eyes, the Cerberus raised one of its front legs, then shifted its centre of gravity to hoist the other leg aloft. Rising on its hindquarters like a rearing horse, the Cerberus brought its front legs together in the air, as though assuming a posture of supplication. The clang of metal rang out once more.

In spite of himself, Kip rose to his feet. The Cerberus swayed before him in a curious dance.

Just before his severed head tumbled to the deck, Kip realized that these actions were nothing more than a gratuitous ritual – a prayer.

Thanks to AIxSF Consortium for their support translating and first publishing ‘Prayer’.

Translated by Kamil Spychalski

The Green Ship

Francesco Verso

Italy

Francesco is perhaps the hardest-working man in the world in trying to get international SF due recognition. His Future Fiction publishing house is dedicated to short collections by international writers, he works tirelessly to promote Chinese SF in Italy and elsewhere, he edits anthologies of international SF… In all of this, it’s easy to forget sometimes that he is also a talented writer, winner of multiple awards in Italy. Francesco’s interests lie in near-future Earth: where we are heading, and how we can work to make the world a better place. He is an idealist in the best sense of the word, and ‘The Green Ship’ encapsulates his concerns perfectly. This story was translated by Michael Colbert and is original to this anthology.

‘There it is! Down there! Land!’ Billai yelled, nearly falling off the dinghy.

We all looked in the direction she indicated with her arm. The waves that had shaken us for some hundred hours didn’t jolt us as much as her words.

We couldn’t feel our legs or move a muscle. Tangled one on top of the other, we were groggy from hunger and thirst. Muna, seated next to me, hugged her baby closer. The three guys in front exchanged a hopeful smile. Meanwhile Haziz – who came to Benghazi after crossing the Bamako Desert – shook his hand.

‘It can’t be Italy. We’re still far.’

We looked at each other anxiously. Someone had fainted. To revive him, we had to slap his face. It wasn’t a boat that we had navigated in but a coffin.

‘He’s right,’ said Professor Kysmayo, the ex-radio host from Nairobi. ‘The outline is too simple. It’s not the coast…’

Nobody said anything else, because nobody dared pronounce the name that, for some weeks, had been circulating the Mediterranean’s southern shores.

A dark and continuous line occupied the horizon from Otranto in Italy, arriving in Orikum in Albania. Smooth and unassailable, the bulkheads of the naval blockade rose for thirty meters on the sea waves; assembled easily thanks to the ships’ containers full of carbon, but impossible