Goldie by Sean Monaghan (Asimov’s SF, January-February 2022) opens with Charlotte out running on a tabletop mountain on an alien planet called Karella. She falls and breaks her ankle when something in the jungle below distracts her:
The gray-white vines stretched out, long catenaries, swooping down, then back up, connecting the edge of Ikenni with the edge of Malale. As the teppu crawled along, its hands would be refreshing and strengthening the vines.
Charlotte crawled closer to the edge for a better view. The pain from her ankle was ebbing, drifting away courtesy of the belt’s injection.
The vines were as thick as the deck of one of those eight lane bridges that connected headlands across harbors.
The teppu was a big one. The size of a whale. She was beautiful. Her downy, furry hide was a greenish shade of beige. Her long, convex body hung beneath the vines, thick strong arms clinging on above. Tentacles and fingers gripping, spinnerets releasing thin filaments. p. 162
After Charlotte is rescued and taken back to base the members of the expedition watch drone footage of the teppu. Becs, their boss, knows the creature from an earlier visit to the planet and reveals (while trying to hide her emotions) that the creature is called Goldie, and it is a forty-eight year old teppu who she didn’t expect to see again (their normal life span is thirty-five years or so).
Now, having set up the big cuddly alien (see the magazine cover), and Bec’s emotional attachment to the animal, you would think this is what would become the main arc of the story—but what we get instead are the activities of an exploration team that appears to be made up of idiotic teenagers who, when they aren’t endlessly shoving food down their cakeholes (in typical Asimov’s fashion), cultivate their love lives and blunder about on the planet’s surface. As an example of this latter, peak stupidity is achieved when a group of them—sans Becs (who actually knows more about the planet than the rest of them put together)—go to see a teppu (not Goldie) that has young. Jody gets swatted by the teppu (this one is about three times the size of an elephant) when she ignores its growls in order to take a few more pictures. When Becs learns of this encounter she sends Jody back home. (It’s a pity she didn’t get rid of them all, and then I wouldn’t had to waste more time watching them eat, gossip, and hook up.)
Eventually, much later on in the story, we get back to Goldie, who arrives at the end of a vine that is near their camp. The remaining members of the group go to observe her and see she is old and probably dying. When Becs sits in front of Goldie, the creature extends a tentacle towards her, before closing its eyes.
The group have dinner that evening (more eating and social babble), and the next morning (spoiler) realise that Becs is missing. When they later find Goldie with a drone (the teppu has started retracing its route), they see Becs has died and is lying in the “garden” on top of Goldie (a planted area where the teppus raise their young if I remember correctly).
The last section takes place a year later, when Goldie comes back to the camp area. The group go to meet the creature, and Goldie lifts Charlotte on to its back. There she sees Bec’s bones and, nearby, a young teppu suckling. Goldie then leaves the camp area once again.
This last quarter or so of the story is much better than the blather than constitutes the central part of the piece because it actually produces what was promised at the start. That said, overall the piece still fails Chekov’s gun test (if there is a gun on the mantelpiece in act one, it must be used in act three): this story opens with an elderly teppu, apparently on its last legs, but ends with it departing the camp after Bec’s death, return with young it has produced a year later, and then leave once more!
There is probably an okay YA novelette buried somewhere in this bloated mess, but in its current form it is, for the most part, a tedious and borderline irritating read.
* (Mediocre). 18,450 words.
1. I ended up highlighting the eating and drinking as I went through the story to keep myself amused:
Niall sipped from his coffee cup. p. 163
The kitchenette had offered her fried chicken with biscuit, or makhani dahl with a roti. p. 164
“Indian sounds good. Mine made me a Masala Dosa a few days back. Great big pancake.” p. 165
The curry was delicious, and Charlotte surprised herself by consuming the whole thing. Ibid.
Charlotte scooped another mouthful of breakfast cereal into her mouth. Oaty and sweet. p. 166
Jody coaxed the little food dispenser into delivering them coffees and chocolatey mini-croissants. p. 168
There was the smell of tea and sweet cookies inside. p. 171
Charlotte sipped on the tea and nibbled on the sweet cookies—chocolate chip, as if the cabin knew her inside out—and worked on datasets. p. 171
She chewed on a piece of dried fruit the landing ship’s dispenser had supplied. The trip had taken a couple of hours, and it was good to have tasty snacks. p. 172
Would her cabin’s kitchenette make fire chili coffee? p. 175
“Tea please,” Charlotte said. A panel opened, revealing the bench, and the kitchenette, began whirring. p. 177
Charlotte sipped from her tea too. Chamomile. Sweet and floral. p. 178
“Come on,” Therassa said. “I’ll buy breakfast. I’m thinking hash browns, omelet, and some of that guava juice I just found out about. p. 179
[The] food dispenser delivered the best it could do at fresh vegetables, rather than prepared meals. Sienna and Cain set to chopping and mixing. The smell was heavenly, full of spices and herbs. p. 185
There were sweet potatoes and greens, a bright leafy salad, something that was probably a chicken, though might well have been snared somewhere out on the mountaintop. Gravy boats and both red and white wine, and water. p. 186
Charlotte sighed and ate some of the spinach and carrot. It was remarkably fresh and tasty. p. 186
And the meal went on without any more talk of sensors or data or results, just about family and how amazing the pavlova dessert was [. . .] p. 186
But he had chocolate and a new fireplace [. . .] p. 187
Charlotte took her coffee and sipped. Perfect. The tiny dash of chili Sienna had added just set it off. P. 187
Niall and Cain made a stack of burritos and kept them coming. p. 188
“I’d enjoy it more,” Therassa told Charlotte over a cask of moderate wine, “if our departure wasn’t hanging over us. p. 189
Charlotte was in the data processing room, enjoying the sweet taste of one of Sienna’s coffees. p. 193
And there is this, about a year after Bec’s death, by which time the characters must weigh about twenty stones (about 130 kg):
“We’re toasting marshmallows,” Charlotte said. “Want to join?”
“It is summer,” Sienna said. “Why would you toast the marshmallows?”
It was definitely warmer, and the sun went down later each day, but the evening still picked up a quick chill. Marshmallows and hot chocolate were always a good solution to that.
“Try one,” Charlotte said. “You might like it.”
“Yes. All right.” Sienna came and sat with them on the sofa. Niall stuck one of the fat, pink marshmallows on the end of a skewer.
“And now?” Sienna said.
“Like this.” Charlotte demonstrated, skillfully holding her own marshmallow in the flames to get just the outside singed to a browny-black.
“Is easy.” Sienna proceeded to set fire to hers.
Niall laughed. “Is easy, but takes practice.”
“Is stupid. I have come to tell you that I believe that Goldie has settled into nesting spot and will give birth to some cubs soon. I hope it proceeds better than last time.”
“Have mine,” Charlotte held her skewer out to Sienna. “And thanks for that. Yes, let’s hope that it goes better than last time.”
Sienna accepted the marshmallow and popped it in her mouth.
“Oh my gosh!” she said, breathing over it. “Hot. Hot but good. Oh, yum!”
By the end of the evening, Sienna had gotten pretty good at making her marshmallows nicely crisp on the outside, and runny in the middle. p. 191
I note that all these food items are 20th Century dishes. Does culinary development stop with the development of interstellar drives?