0 Yorumlar
0 hisse senetleri
29 Views
0 önizleme
Rehber
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
ACT IDr. Julian Frost found his own biography in a Taiping archival document, written in 1854—twenty years before he was born. The discovery happened on a Tuesday, in the imperial archives of Tianjing, where Julian had spent the last three months cataloging rebel propaganda and religious texts for his forthcoming Oxford publication. He was thirty-two, a man of meticulous habits and rational...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 71 Views 0 önizleme
-
The Double Helix of DeliriumThe first time Countess Orla von Taglieber wrote a equation in her sleep, Evelyn Hartmann assumed it was a dream enactment. The second time, she assumed it was a coincidence. By the third time, she understood that something was happening that no amount of Victorian propriety could contain. Orla was twenty-nine, a widow (her husband died of tuberculosis three years ago, leaving her a house in...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 40 Views 0 önizleme
-
ACT IThe Beauregard plantation looked like a dying animal: magnificent once, now skeletal, its ribs of white columns protruding through peeling paint like bone through rotting flesh. Elias Thorne stood at the gate and felt something he hadn't felt since Boston, something that was almost sympathy. He had come south as a Union intelligence officer, armed with maps and coded messages and a conviction...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 24 Views 0 önizleme
-
Title: The Gilded GameSebastian didn't want money; he wanted access. In the stratified world of Manhattan's elite, money was merely the admission ticket. The real currency was influence, and the real game was played in a place called 'The Obsidian Circle'. Sebastian had acquired a fortune through a series of ruthless acquisitions, but he remained an outsider—a 'new money' parvenu. To enter the Circle, he had to...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 54 Views 0 önizleme
-
The Stellar CommonwealthThe signal arrived on a Tuesday in October, 1924. Richard Sloan was alone in his private observatory atop a Manhattan townhouse that smelled of old books and pipe tobacco, and he was not looking for signals when he found one. He was looking for something else entirely—a gravitational anomaly in the outer reaches of the galactic disk that had appeared in the latest survey data from Mount Wilson....0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 36 Views 0 önizleme
-
The Sulfur LedgerRain fell on Chicago the way it always did in October—relentlessly, patiently, washing nothing clean. Cole Mercer stood in the doorway of a meatpacking warehouse on the South Side, water dripping from the brim of his hat, and watched the men load crates into a truck. "Mr. Mercer?" A short man in a suit approached him. His face was pale, his eyes darting like rats in a trap. "Mr. Kozak is...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 26 Views 0 önizleme
-
The Vine That KillsThe vine killed the yew tree in silence. Richard Hartley knelt in the damp earth of the New Forest, his fingers tracing the dark green tendrils that coiled around the ancient trunk like a lover's embrace. The bark had gone black where the vine made contact, and a sickly sweet odour rose from the wound—something between rotting orchids and poisoned honey. He had seen this pattern before. Not in...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 36 Views 0 önizleme
-
The Witness in the WindowEleanor Marsh had been watching the black sedan for ten nights running. It arrived at nine o'clock each evening, parked on the corner of Fulton and Willow, and remained for exactly twelve minutes. Twelve minutes was enough time for two people to emerge, walk to wherever they were going, return with small metal boxes, and distribute them to whoever happened to be nearby. Eleanor watched from her...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 34 Views 0 önizleme
-
The Man from NowhereI. The march in Selma was mud and flags and the sound of ten thousand people walking on a road that had never been meant for them to walk on. David Roth stood at the edge of the crowd with a notepad in his hand and a press pass around his neck that felt, that morning, like the most important piece of plastic in America. He was thirty-two, ambitious in the way journalists are ambitious—hungry...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 44 Views 0 önizleme
English
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek