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09/10/1984
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THE GARDEN OF TOMORROWA Collection of Ten Short Stories I. THE STARLIGHT LESSON Nora Chen had never seen a star. She was born blind, congenital optic nerve atrophy, the doctors said. No treatment available. No hope. She was eight years old when her grandfather first told her about the stars, sitting beside her on the porch of his house in Pasadena, his old radio telescope pointed at the sky she could not see....0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 1 Просмотры 0 предпросмотрВойдите, чтобы отмечать, делиться и комментировать!
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The Wish MerchantThe box fit in Tommy O'Brien's palm like it had been made for him. Which, he supposed, it had been. Made by the man who'd handed it to him in the back room of the Velvet Lounge, a man who introduced himself only as Mr. White and who smelled like expensive whiskey and expensive lies. "It hears wishes," Mr. White said. He was a tall man, thin in the way that men who live by their wits tend to...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 1 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Silent ArrayThe desert did not forgive mistakes. It simply erased them. Jack Morrison drove his Honda across the New Mexico flats at dawn, the steering wheel cracked and warm against his palms. He had no idea where he was going. The man who hired him had given him a single address: Site 17, via Highway 60, turn left at the water tower, follow the gravel road for twelve miles. No name, no logo, no...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 2 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Velvet FrequencyThe Velvet Frequency The green light blinked at the end of the dock the way green lights do—indifferent, distant, belonging to someone else. Jack Calloway stood in the parking lot behind his apartment in Greenwich Village and watched it through the windshield of his Ford, one hand on the wheel, one hand holding a beer he'd opened twenty minutes ago and had not finished because finishing it...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 4 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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Final RollThe fog did not lift from Blackhollow Manor. It thickened. It pressed against the stained-glass windows like a living thing, patient and hungry. Arthur Blackwood stood in the foyer, his father\'s pocket watch heavy in his vest pocket. It was the only thing he had left that was not mortgaged, not pledged, not promised to some creditor whose name he no longer remembered. The watch had belonged to...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 7 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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Sample V-02: The Seed of Eternity(Setting: Jazz Age New York, 1924) The party at the penthouse was a whirlwind of champagne, sequins, and the frantic, syncopated rhythms of a saxophone that seemed to mock the very idea of silence. Leo stood on the balcony, overlooking the glittering sprawl of Manhattan, feeling the familiar void opening up in his chest. Around him, the "Lost Generation" danced on the edge of a volcano,...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 10 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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# The Two-Dimensional ManThe phone rang at two in the morning, which was the kind of hour when calls are either emergencies or jokes. Jack Callahan was prepared for both. He reached for the receiver on the fourth ring, took a swallow of rye whiskey from the bottle on his desk, and said, "Callahan." The voice on the other end was a woman's, nervous and professional at the same time, like someone who had spent years...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 12 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Last Pulse from Luminarium=================== The Luminarium was perfect. That was the problem. It was a simulated paradise — vast, beautiful, infinite in its variations. Uploaded minds lived there in worlds of their own design, each one a personal universe where nothing hurt and nothing ended and nothing mattered because nothing was real. Most humans had uploaded three centuries ago. The physical world existed only to...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 2 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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THE LAST LIGHT OF NEW CARTHAGEI found Grandfather's diary in the cellar on a Tuesday in October, 1872. The house was cold—the coal fire had been banked too early, as it always is when one lives alone—and the smell of damp stone and forgotten things rose to meet me as I descended the narrow stairs with a candle in my hand. There, behind a stack of water-stained furniture covers, in a tin box whose lock had rusted solid, was...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 10 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Clear SightAct I: The Commission The letter arrived on a Tuesday, delivered by a boy in a cap who looked at the brownstone on Fifth Avenue as if it might bite him. Thomas Callahan read it by the light of his office window, which overlooked a street that smelled of coal smoke and ambition. Dear Mr. Callahan: My father believes you are the man for this work. He says you have eyes that see what others miss,...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 15 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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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 Комментарии 0 Поделились 13 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Signal from Oak HollowAct I The basement door had not been opened in twenty years, not since her father died, and Bell Thorne stood before it on the landing, the flashlight beam trembling in her hand, and wondered if she was mad to be doing this. The house above her groaned. It always groaned now, the timber contracting in the cool night air, the plaster cracking in places that had been cracked before she was born...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 17 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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