{"product_id":"getting-to-know-youisbn-9780345504289","title":"Getting to Know You","description":"\u003cb\u003eNot since William Gibson and Bruce Sterling galvanized science fiction in the 1980s  has the emergence of a new writer been heralded with such acclaim as that attending  David Marusek, whose brilliant first novel, \u003ci\u003eCounting Heads,\u003c\/i\u003e appeared to rave reviews  in 2005. But Marusek did not come out of nowhere. Aficionados of the genre had already  taken note of his groundbreaking short fiction: masterfully written, profoundly thought-out  examinations of futures so real they seemed virtually inevitable.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Now, in this collection  of ten short stories, Marusek’s fierce imagination and dazzling extrapolative gifts  are on full display. Five of the stories, including the Sturgeon Award-winning “The  Wedding Album,” a shattering look at the unintended human consequences of advanced  technology, are set in the same future as Counting Heads. All ten showcase Marusek’ s talent for literate, provocative science fiction of the very highest order.“Marusek [has] the potential to make an indifferent audience care about [science fiction] again.”\u003cbr\u003e–\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Marusek is one of the best-kept secrets of science fiction, a wild talent with a Gibson-grade imagination and marvelous prose, and a keen sense of human drama that makes it all go.”\u003cbr\u003e–Cory Doctorow\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“David Marusek, showing a potentially volatile synergy of technology and human foibles, is a writer who gives the impression that he’s been to the future, seen it work, and has come back to tell us all about it.”\u003cbr\u003e–\u003ci\u003eLocus\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Superb . . . Marusek’s ‘shiny ideas’ sparkle.”\u003cbr\u003e–\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)THE WEDDING ALBUM\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnne and Benjamin stood stock-still, as instructed, close but not touching, while the simographer adjusted her apparatus, set its timer, and ducked out of the room. It would take only a moment, she said. They were to think only happy, happy thoughts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor once in her life, Anne was unconditionally happy, and everything\u003cbr\u003earound her made her happier: her gown, which had been her\u003cbr\u003egrandmother’s; the wedding ring (how cold it had felt when Benjamin\u003cbr\u003efirst slipped it on her finger!); her clutch bouquet of forget-me-nots and\u003cbr\u003ebuttercups; Benjamin himself, close beside her in his charcoal gray tux\u003cbr\u003eand pink carnation. He who so despised ritual but was a good sport.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis cheeks were pink, too, and his eyes sparkled with some wolfish\u003cbr\u003efantasy. “Come here,” he whispered. Anne shushed him; you weren’t\u003cbr\u003esupposed to talk or touch during a casting; it could spoil the sims. “I\u003cbr\u003ecan’t wait,” he whispered, “this is taking too long.” And it did seem\u003cbr\u003elonger than usual, but this was a professional simulacrum, not some\u003cbr\u003ehome-made snapshot.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey were posed at the street end of the living room, next to the\u003cbr\u003etable piled with brightly wrapped gifts. This was Benjamin’s townhouse;\u003cbr\u003eshe had barely moved in. All her treasures were still in shipping\u003cbr\u003eshells in the basement, except for the few pieces she’d managed to have\u003cbr\u003eunpacked: the oak refectory table and chairs, the sixteenth-century\u003cbr\u003eFrench armoire, the cherry wood chifforobe, the tea table with inlaid\u003cbr\u003etop, the silvered mirror over the fire surround. Of course, her antiques\u003cbr\u003eclashed with Benjamin’s contemporary—and rather common—decor,\u003cbr\u003ebut he had promised her the whole house to redo as she saw fit. A\u003cbr\u003ewhole house!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“How about a kiss?” whispered Benjamin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnne smiled but shook her head; there’d be plenty of time later for\u003cbr\u003ethat sort of thing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuddenly, a head wearing wraparound goggles poked through the\u003cbr\u003ewall and quickly surveyed the room. “Hey, you,” it said to them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Is that our simographer?” Benjamin said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe head spoke into a cheek mike, “This one’s the keeper,” and\u003cbr\u003ewithdrew as suddenly as it had appeared.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Did the simographer just pop her head in through the wall?” said\u003cbr\u003eBenjamin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I think so,” said Anne, though it made no sense.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’ll just see what’s up,” said Benjamin, breaking his pose. He went\u003cbr\u003eto the door but could not grasp its handle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMusic began to play outside, and Anne went to the window. Her\u003cbr\u003eview of the garden below was blocked by the blue-and-white-striped\u003cbr\u003ecanopy they had rented, but she could clearly hear the clink of flatware\u003cbr\u003eon china, laughter, and the musicians playing a waltz. “They’re starting\u003cbr\u003ewithout us,” she said, happily amazed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“They’re just warming up,” said Benjamin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No, they’re not. That’s the first waltz. I picked it myself.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“So let’s waltz,” Benjamin said and reached for her. But his arms\u003cbr\u003epassed through her in a flash of pixelated noise. He frowned and examined\u003cbr\u003ehis hands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnne hardly noticed. Nothing could diminish her happiness. She\u003cbr\u003ewas drawn to the table of wedding gifts. Of all the gifts, there was only\u003cbr\u003eone—a long flat box in flecked silver wrapping—that she was most\u003cbr\u003ekeen to open. It was from Great-Uncle Karl. When it came down to it,\u003cbr\u003eAnne was both the easiest and the hardest person to shop for. While\u003cbr\u003eeveryone knew of her passion for antiques, few had the means or expertise\u003cbr\u003eto buy one. She reached for Karl’s package, but her hand passed\u003cbr\u003eright through it. \u003ci\u003eThis isn’t happening\u003c\/i\u003e, she thought with gleeful horror.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat it \u003ci\u003ewas, \u003c\/i\u003ein fact, happening was confirmed a moment later\u003cbr\u003ewhen a dozen people—Great-Uncle Karl, Nancy, Aunt Jennifer, Traci,\u003cbr\u003eCathy and Tom, the bridesmaids and others, including Anne herself,\u003cbr\u003eand Benjamin, still in their wedding clothes—all trooped through the\u003cbr\u003ewall wearing wraparound goggles. “Nice job,” said Great-Uncle Karl,\u003cbr\u003einspecting the room, “first rate.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ooooh,” said Aunt Jennifer, comparing the identical wedding\u003cbr\u003ecouples, identical but for the goggles. It made Anne uncomfortable that\u003cbr\u003ethe other Anne should be wearing goggles while she wasn’t. And the\u003cbr\u003eother Benjamin acted a little drunk and wore a smudge of white frosting\u003cbr\u003eon his lapel. \u003ci\u003eWe’ve cut the cake\u003c\/i\u003e, she thought happily, although she\u003cbr\u003ecouldn’t remember doing so. Geri, the flower girl in a pastel dress, and\u003cbr\u003eAngus, the ring bearer in a miniature tux, along with a knot of other\u003cbr\u003edressed-up children, charged through the sofa, back and forth, creating\u003cbr\u003epyrotechnic explosions of digital noise. They would have run through\u003cbr\u003eBenjamin and Anne, too, had the adults allowed. Anne’s father came\u003cbr\u003ethrough the wall with a bottle of champagne. He paused when he saw\u003cbr\u003eAnne but turned to the other Anne and freshened her glass.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Wait a minute!” shouted Benjamin, waving his arms above his\u003cbr\u003ehead. “I get it now. \u003ci\u003eWe’re \u003c\/i\u003ethe sims!” The guests all laughed, and he\u003cbr\u003elaughed too. “I guess my sims always say that, don’t they?” The other\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBenjamin nodded yes and sipped his champagne. “I just never expected\u003cbr\u003eto \u003ci\u003ebe \u003c\/i\u003ea sim,” Benjamin went on. This brought another round of laughter,\u003cbr\u003eand he said sheepishly, “I guess my sims all say that, too.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe other Benjamin said, “Now that we have the obligatory\u003cbr\u003eepiphany out of the way,” and took a bow. The guests applauded.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCathy, with Tom in tow, approached Anne. “Look what I caught,”\u003cbr\u003eshe said and showed Anne the forget-me-not and buttercup bouquet. “I\u003cbr\u003eguess we know what \u003ci\u003ethat \u003c\/i\u003emeans.” Tom, intent on straightening his tie,\u003cbr\u003eseemed not to hear. But Anne knew what it meant. It meant they’d\u003cbr\u003etossed the bouquet. All the silly little rituals that she had so looked forward\u003cbr\u003eto.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Good for you,” she said and offered her own clutch, which she\u003cbr\u003estill held, for comparison. The real one was wilting and a little ragged\u003cbr\u003earound the edges, with missing petals and sprigs, while hers was still\u003cbr\u003efresh and pristine and would remain so eternally. “Here,” she said,\u003cbr\u003e“take mine, too, for double luck.” But when she tried to give Cathy the\u003cbr\u003ebouquet, she couldn’t let go of it. She opened her hand and discovered\u003cbr\u003ea seam where the clutch joined her palm. It was part of her. \u003ci\u003eFunny\u003c\/i\u003e, she\u003cbr\u003ethought, \u003ci\u003eI’m not afraid\u003c\/i\u003e. Ever since she was little, Anne had feared that\u003cbr\u003esome day she would suddenly realize she wasn’t herself anymore. It\u003cbr\u003ewas a dreadful notion that sometimes oppressed her for weeks: knowing\u003cbr\u003eyou weren’t yourself. But her sims didn’t seem to mind it. She had\u003cbr\u003eabout three dozen Annes in her album, from age twelve on up. Her\u003cbr\u003esims tended to be a morose lot, but they all agreed it wasn’t so bad, the\u003cbr\u003elife of a sim, once you got over the initial shock. The first moments of\u003cbr\u003edisorientation are the worst, they told her, and they made her promise\u003cbr\u003enever to reset them back to default. Otherwise, they’d have to work\u003cbr\u003eeverything through from scratch. So Anne never reset her sims when\u003cbr\u003eshe shelved them. She might delete a sim outright for whatever reason,\u003cbr\u003ebut she never reset them, because you never knew when you’d wake up\u003cbr\u003eone day a sim yourself. Like today.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe other Anne joined them. She was sagging a little. “Well,” she\u003cbr\u003esaid to Anne.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Indeed!” replied Anne.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Turn around,” said the other Anne, twirling her hand, “I want to\u003cbr\u003esee.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnne was pleased to oblige. Then she said, “Your turn,” and the\u003cbr\u003eother Anne modeled for her, and she was delighted how the gown\u003cbr\u003elooked on her, though the goggles somewhat spoiled the effect. \u003ci\u003eMaybe\u003cbr\u003ethis can work out\u003c\/i\u003e, she thought, \u003ci\u003eI am enjoying myself so\u003c\/i\u003e. “Let’s go see\u003cbr\u003eus side-by-side,” she said, leading the way to the mirror on the wall.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe mirror was large, mounted high, and tilted forward so you saw\u003cbr\u003eyourself as from above. But simulated mirrors cast no reflections, and\u003cbr\u003eAnne was happily disappointed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh,” said Cathy, “Look at that.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Look at what?” said Anne.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Grandma’s vase,” said the other Anne. On the mantel beneath\u003cbr\u003ethe mirror stood Anne’s most precious possession, a delicate vase cut\u003cbr\u003efrom pellucid blue crystal. Anne’s great-great-great-grandmother had\u003cbr\u003ecommissioned the Belgian master, Bollinger, the finest glass maker in\u003cbr\u003esixteenth-century Europe, to make it. Five hundred years later, it was as\u003cbr\u003eperfect as the day it was cut.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Indeed!” said Anne, for the sim vase seemed to radiate an inner\u003cbr\u003elight. Through some trick or glitch of the simogram, it sparkled like a\u003cbr\u003elake under moonlight, and, seeing it, Anne felt incandescent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter a while, the other Anne said, “Well?” Implicit in this question\u003cbr\u003ewas a whole standard set of questions that boiled down to—shall\u003cbr\u003eI keep you or delete you now? For sometimes a sim didn’t take. Sometimes\u003cbr\u003ea sim was cast while Anne was in a mood, and the sim suffered\u003cbr\u003eirreconcilable guilt or unassuagable despondency and had to be mercifully\u003cbr\u003edestroyed. It was better to do this immediately, or so all the Annes\u003cbr\u003ehad agreed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd Anne understood the urgency, what with the reception still in\u003cbr\u003eprogress and the bride and groom, though frazzled, still wearing their\u003cbr\u003efinery. They might do another casting if necessary. “I’ll be okay,” Anne\u003cbr\u003esaid. “In fact, if it’s always like this, I’ll be terrific.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnne, through the impenetrable goggles, studied her. “You sure?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yes.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sister,” said the other Anne. Anne addressed all her sims as “sister,”\u003cbr\u003eand now Anne, herself, was being so addressed. “Sister,” said the\u003cbr\u003eother Anne, “this has got to work out. I need you.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I know,” said Anne, “I’m your wedding day.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yes, my wedding day.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAcross the room, the guests laughed and applauded. Benjamin—\u003cbr\u003eboth of him—was entertaining, as usual. He—the one in goggles—\u003cbr\u003emotioned to them. The other Anne said, “We have to go. I’ll be back.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGreat-Uncle Karl, Nancy, Cathy and Tom, Aunt Jennifer, and the\u003cbr\u003erest, left through the wall. A polka could be heard playing on the other\u003cbr\u003eside. Before leaving, the other Benjamin gathered the other Anne into\u003cbr\u003ehis arms and leaned her backward for a theatrical kiss. Their goggles\u003cbr\u003eclacked. \u003ci\u003eHow happy I look\u003c\/i\u003e, Anne told herself. \u003ci\u003eThis is the happiest day\u003cbr\u003eof my life\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen the lights dimmed, and her thoughts shattered like glass.","brand":"Del Rey","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303584485605,"sku":"NP9780345504289","price":15.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345504289_e77eb2fe-01a3-4e67-83ef-f7fba4fc3887.jpg?v=1730754732","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/getting-to-know-youisbn-9780345504289","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}