“The Sacrifice Pit,” by Brian Dolton
Sanquor shook his head. How could such foolishness, such misunderstanding, have taken root? Of course the thoravids had to be destroyed; of course any trace of them had to be scourged. They were an abomination in the sight of the Tetharan.
“Clockwork Heart, Clockwork Soul,” by Kris Dikeman
The Doctor looked back at us, his expression equal parts contempt and amusement. “I accept your commission,” he said. “Come back in a month, on the night before the dedication, and not before. You shall have your clockwork man. Whether the demon you have bargained with accepts him, well, that is not my affair.”
“Driftwood,” by Marie Brennan, from BCS #14
He did neither. He grabbed her by the shoulder, shoved her to the floor, and left. Alsanit should have chased him, but her legs were too limp. She sat on the tiled floor of the room he rented in a Shred whose name she had already forgotten, shaking and on the edge of tears, and knew her people were doomed.