Free A Fantastic Holiday Season: The Gift of Stories by Kevin J. Anderson

strangled him. How his father’s magic had shifted into his mother over the years, and what she did with it. He didn’t want to turn into a parent like the ones he had. Maybe Rick was the smart one, marrying people he couldn’t use family magic on, letting his powers wither. “You’re right. You’re so right.”
    “Trial period. Understand?”
    “Melly,” he said. He hugged her, her warmth and prickliness and smell of mint shampoo and waffles, and felt hope for the first time in too long.
    ***

When we humans go to the stars, we’ll take our holidays with us—and why not? They pack easily, and will comfort us through that cold black trek into the night; they will reaffirm our origins.
    Initially, at any rate. But each colony will evolve to reflect its new habits, habitats, and technologies. Holidays will change, too—but Joy to the World—not in the most important ways.
    —KO

Astronaut Nick
    Brad R. Torgersen
    “He’ll be here,” the red-haired girl said as she looked out the bubble window of the classroom’s south wall.
    “Nah, my older brother says Astronaut Nick is a fake,” said the blue-eyed boy with the curly brown hair. He too was looking out the bubble window.
    Jimmy Carrico wasn’t sure who he believed. At age nine, he didn’t want to appear too credulous in front of the older kids. After all, what could anyone say about the legend of a red-suited space man who was supposed to be flying all the way from Earth to deliver gifts to the children of Olympus Mons Colony?
    “Your older brother just wants to spoil the fun,” the red-haired girl said, turning her head to make a disapproving frown at the blue-eyed boy.
    Jimmy hadn’t been on Mars long enough to have learned too many names. Mostly he kept quiet, did his schoolwork as best as he was able, and endured the inevitable rude comments. It was bad enough trying to learn to function in Mars’ heavier gravity, but trying to do it and save face in front of the other kids at the same time, was often an impossible task.
    “He’ll come riding in his rocket sled,” said the red-haired girl. “Him and his crew of elves.”
    The blue-eyed boy snorted.
    “He’s never come before,” he said. “What’s so different that suddenly he’d show up now?”
    “That,” the girl said, pointing outside the bubble window.
    The salmon-colored sky had faded to gray, and little ice crystals were gradually floating down to land on the brownish-red landscape below—Martian snow being the dividend of the work which had brought the Carrico family to Mars in the first place.
    Every year, the Mars Terraforming Project needed more people, and every year those people hurled more comets into Mars’ upper atmosphere. Enough to begin changing Mars’ climate so that moisture was able to condense out of the air—especially in the higher elevations. Since Olympus Mons colony was dug into the foothills of the biggest extinct volcano in the solar system, and the volcano got dusted on a regular basis these days, the children had a front row seat for what their parents claimed was history in the making.
    “Big whoop,” said the blue-eyed boy, who turned away from the window and sauntered back to where some other boys were gathered to eat their noon meal.
    Jimmy stared out the window, watching the little white flakes fall. There weren’t many. In fact, it was hard to believe that something so small could turn the ground white in a single afternoon. But it had happened twice before in two previous weeks, and now it was happening again.
    “He’ll come,” the girl said to Jimmy, nodding her head earnestly.
    “What makes you so sure?” Jimmy said cautiously, sliding off of his chair and walking to stand near the girl—both of their faces pushed into the bubble window so that they could look around.
    “Before my Grandma died,” said the red-haired girl, “she told me about Saint Nicholas.”
    “Who?” Jimmy asked.
    “You ever hear of Father Christmas?” the