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

red-haired girl asked.
    “I don’t think so. Is this a story from Earth?”
    “It is,” the red-haired girl said. “At the end of every Earth year, Saint Nicholas rides through the sky in his sleigh, bringing gifts to all the good children.”
    “Sounds like a fairytale,” Jimmy said.
    The little girl scowled.
    “Why do boys always have to ruin everything?” she said.
    “Sorry,” Jimmy replied, feeling sheepish. “I guess I have a hard time believing in anyone who rides a sleigh through the sky. I’ve seen pictures of earth. I know what a sleigh looks like. They can’t get off the ground.”
    “But Astronaut Nick’s sleigh has rockets,” she said. “And when he comes, he’ll bring things for all of us. Well, all of us who believe in him anyway.”
    Jimmy considered. It was an enticing idea. He hadn’t been able to bring much from Ceres. The family’s small quarters in Olympus Mons were barren—their crates not yet arrived via bulk freighter—and while video games and other three-dee entertainments could be had in plentiful quantities, there were times when Jimmy missed being able to hold an actual toy in his hands.
    Why had they moved, again? Jimmy could still remember how excited his parents had been. The whole family would be partaking in the greatest engineering project of the age. The robot scouts sent to retrieve the comets from the Kuiper Belt would keep bringing them until Mars had been rendered inhabitable. The Carrico family would be helping to prepare the surface. It might take decades, or even centuries. But there would come a day when there’d be no need for habitats. The air would be like Earth air, and it would be thick and warm enough to go outside without suits—something Jimmy had never done on Mars, and not on Ceres either.
    Ceres. On Ceres, Jimmy had real friends. On Ceres, he could fly down the corridors and across the gym, at the merest push of his toes. Stuck on Mars, Jimmy plodded and sweated, his cheeks pink, and his muscles and joints complaining. The doctor said it was normal, for children born in the asteroid belt—that Jimmy would get used to it. But the longer Jimmy endured the struggle, the more he hated it. And hated the fact that his parents had applied for emigration from Ceres in the first place.
    “Does Astronaut Nick only bring toys?” Jimmy asked.
    “Astronaut Nick brings you whatever you wish for,” the girl said.
    Jimmy frowned, and slowly pulled his head out of the bubble.
    The girl stared at him.
    “Why does that make you sad?” she asked.
    “Nevermind,” Jimmy said, turning to leave.
    “Wait!” she said. “You’re new, but you don’t talk to people. What’s your name? You can at least tell me your name.”
    “James,” he sighed.
    “That’s probably what your Mom calls you,” she said. “What do you call you?”
    “Jimmy,” he said, looking back at her over his shoulder.
    She smiled at him—her eyes lighting up pleasantly.
    “That was my Great Grandpa’s name,” she said. “I like that. My name’s Tessa.”
    “Hello,” Jimmy said, still looking over his shoulder. She seemed to be waiting for him to say more to her.
    He merely turned and walked out of the room, his feet slapping painfully hard on the deck.

    The next day, Tessa found Jimmy eating by himself.
    “Mind if I sit here?” Tessa asked.
    “No,” Jimmy said, not looking up from his tray of microwaved turkey and beans.
    “Did I make you mad?” she asked, setting down her own tray.
    “What?” he asked.
    “Yesterday, when you left. It seemed like I made you mad.”
    “No,” Jimmy said. “It’s just that … I’d like to believe this Astronaut Nick guy can help me, but I don’t believe it.”
    “Why not?” she said sharply.
    “It sounds to me like one of those things parents tell to little kids, that always wind up not being true.”
    “Well if you don’t believe in him,” Tessa said, “of course he’s not going to be true. Astronaut Nick doesn’t bring