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08/04/2002
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The Harvest of Arthur PendeltonThe Harvest of Arthur PendeltonAct I: The ReapingThe bell tolled at midnight, and with it, the first of the Great Reaping claimed its due. Arthur Pendelton watched from the window of his family's Mayfair townhouse as the gas lamps along Berkeley Square flickered and died—one by one, like candles snuffed by an invisible hand. His mother had vanished an hour ago, mid-sentence, mid-breath,...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 AnteprimaEffettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
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ACT I: THE GRAY ZONEInspector Kael reviewed the Elena Rostova prediction at 08:00 on Monday morning, as he did every morning, with the same methodical attention that had made him the Hall of Mirrors' most reliable Unpredictability Auditor. The prediction was straightforward: Elena Rostova, resident of Sector 14, dwelling unit 7B, would purchase a specific book -- a collection of poems by a pre-Unification author...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Last Lamp of LondonThe fog of 1892 did not merely cling to the cobblestones of Whitechapel; it swallowed the city whole, a grey shroud that tasted of sulfur and coal. Inside the sterile, white-tiled confines of the Order’s sanctuary, Arthur stood motionless. He was a masterpiece of biological precision, a man stripped of the chaotic noise of empathy. To Arthur, a scream was simply a frequency of sound, and a tear...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Unbroken ChainThe road to the Edge ended at a gate that had no lock and a sign that had no words. Ray Donovan drove past both and parked the truck beside a building that had once been a school and was now something else. Something that held together by force of habit and the stubbornness of an old man who refused to let it fall down. The building was small. One room, maybe sixteen feet by twenty, with a...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 5 Views 0 Anteprima
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Nothing MovesThe truck wouldn't start. Frank Doyle knew this before he even turned the key. He'd been knowing it for three days. The engine made a sound that was almost a start—a cough, a sputter, a hope—and then nothing. Just the sound of the dashboard clock ticking forward, one second at a time, like a bomb that was slowly figuring out what time it was. He sat in the driver's seat and watched the gas...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 8 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Double Life of Thomas VanceThomas Vance opened the bookshop at nine in the morning and he closed it at six in the evening and he did exactly the same thing every day for three years. He straightened the books. He wiped the counter. He drank tea from a cup that said World's Best Bookseller in letters that were chipped and fading. He watched the people walk past the window and he thought about nothing. This was exactly...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Patient from BelowPart I: The Lock Henri Leclerc was thirty-three years old, the youngest mathematics professor at the Ecole Normale Superieure in Paris, and in the spring of 1893 he was on the verge of a discovery that would have changed the course of mathematics. He had been working on hypergeometric functions—specifically, on a class of functions that extended the concept of infinity to higher dimensions. In...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 7 Views 0 Anteprima
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What Ray RememberedRay Kowalski knew the price of everything in Cleveland. Not because he was a businessman or a broker or anything like that. He was just a guy who had too much time and a brain that wouldn't let him forget. A factory job for eighteen years, then the factory closed, then the job closed with it, and then Ray had nothing but time and a mind that cataloged everything. The price of a gallon of milk...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 861 Views 0 Anteprima
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What's Left of UsWhat's Left of UsMark found her at 2 a.m. outside the bodega on Atlantic Avenue, barefoot in her pajamas, counting the cracks in the sidewalk. She had an open beer in her hand, a light-colored one from a brand he did not recognize, and she was wearing a long-sleeved top over her pajama top like a jacket, even though it was August and the air was thick enough to chew. Her hair was pulled back in...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 8 Views 0 Anteprima
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THE SILENT PARTNERThe radio crackled with news I had orchestrated but never intended to hear broadcast. "Federal investigators arrive in Blackwater, probing mass death event..." I sat in the corner booth of Finch's Saloon, watching the dust settle on my whiskey glass. The neon sign above the bar flickered—OPEN, then OFF, then OPEN again—like the moral certainty of men who had never had to make difficult...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 10 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Architect of SilenceThe city of Oakhaven was a masterpiece of symmetry and stone, a place where every street was a perfect arc and every building a testament to the order of the State. In Oakhaven, silence was not the absence of sound, but a civic duty. The citizens spoke in hushed tones, their lives choreographed by the Great Clock in the center of the plaza, which dictated when to wake, when to work, and when to...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 12 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Magnolia and the FloodTell it again. Tell it the way it was, or the way it might have been, which in this country is the same thing, because the past here does not recede—it lies down in the mud and waits. Magnolia Duval was born in 1903, in the big house at Duval Landing, which sat on a bluff above the river and had been in the family since before the Louisiana Purchase, which was to say since before the land had...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 8 Views 0 Anteprima
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