Rock On by Bruce Sterling, Poppy Z. Brite, Norman Spinrad, Elizabeth Hand, Lucius Shepard, Graham Joyce, Michael Swanwick, Charles De Lint, John Shirley, F. Paul Wilson, Howard Waldrop, Alastair Reynolds, Graham Masterton, Caitlin R. Kiernan, David J. Schow, Elizabeth Bear, Edward Bryan, Lawrence C. Connolly, Bradley Denton, Greg Kihn, Pat Cadigan, Marc Laidlaw, Del James, Lewis Shiner

That I’m messed up?”
    “Not that.”
    “That we can’t get it on?”
    “You know what I mean.”
    She reached for me, pushing back the collar of my robe, seeing how the worst of my scars extended to my chest. “Tell me about this.”
    “It’s from another life, Ariana.”
    “You said that before. Now tell me the rest.” She shifted again, wincing deeper this time. “Come on. I’m in a pretty good position to sympathize. Tell me.”
    I turned away, thinking it through, deciding where to begin, how much to tell. “I was in Afghanistan,” I said at last. “I’d gotten into some trouble. I was lost.”
    “Like tonight?”
    “Yeah, but that’s not typical. I almost never get lost, even in unfamiliar terrain. I have an intuitive sense of direction, but that night I’d been injured.” I raised my robe enough for her to see the scars on my thigh. “I was on foot, night falling fast, then along came an old Jeep full of Afghans, all impeccably dressed, going to a wedding.”
    “A wedding party in the middle of Afghanistan?”
    “Not the middle. The boarder area near Pakistan. And they weren’t the wedding party, just the musicians. They offered to take me to the village, get someone to patch me up, send word to my people.”
    “The military?”
    “No. My people weren’t the military.”
    “Journalists?”
    “Listen, here’s the part you need to know. I was bleeding and dirty, but they made room and drove me to the village where the locals found me a bed for the night.” I stared at the wall, reliving it now, seeing it all as if it were happening again. “It was a small bed, made for a child. I couldn’t lie flat, and I was sitting up, listening to the wedding music playing across the way. The sound lessened my pain, put me at ease. That’s the thing about music, it changes us, alters our perceptions. At least, it’s always been that way with me. So I was sitting there, no longer hurting . . . and then suddenly everything exploded. It was a drone attack . . . direct hit on the celebration.” I paused, swallowed. “Score one for the insurgents.”
    “The insurgents had drones?”
    “No. The American forces had drones, but insurgents had information. They provided the coordinates, claimed the place was a Taliban safe house. That’s the way they like to do it. They get others to settle their differences. Keeps them from having to take out their own kind.”
    I had a pretty well stocked first-aid kit, and after she’d soaked for a while I used it to patch her up. Then I went downstairs and cleaned her blood from the door. When I got back she was lying on my couch, staring at the ceiling. “Got any beer, Lorcan?”
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    “I need to talk, Lorcan. Trust me. Drinking will make it easier.”
    I got us each a bottle, then sat beside her as she described the Quicksilver she had seen, a creature only vaguely human. “He uses the music as a shield. Somehow, in the lights, performing for the right people, he hides what he really is.”
    “The right people.”
    “Yeah. People like you. Like you said, music alters moods, changes perspective—”
    “Changes a monster to a man?”
    “I know. Sounds crazy. But it explains why he started singing before stepping into the lights, and why he left the stage so quickly when the music stopped.”
    “I really don’t think—”
    “You were there, Lorcan. You saw—”
    “A charismatic performer—”
    “But that’s not what I saw, and that’s why Quicksilver came for me, would have killed me if I hadn’t gotten away.”
    There was no denying her wounds, but I needed more proof. “You took pictures, right? There’s no music on a still image. We should look—”
    “We can’t.” She sat up, wincing the way she had when sitting in the tub. “Quicksilver took my jacket, pulled it off me when I tried getting away. My camera and wallet were in the pockets.”
    “We should call the police.”
    “And tell