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02/04/2000
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THE CATALYST AT THE GREEN LANTERNThe night Lillian Cross walked into the Green Lantern Club, Dominic Falcone was counting the take from the upstairs card room and thinking about the new shipment of Canadian whiskey that was due to arrive at the freight yard on Twenty-Second Street by way of three different trucking companies and one very cooperative railway agent. The take was good. Eleven hundred dollars on a Tuesday, which...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 5 Visualizações 0 AnteriorFaça Login para curtir, compartilhar e comentar!
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The river spoke to Ab every evening at dusk, though nobody else could hear what it said. Silas had always assumed his uncle was mad — half the Harrow family was, in various degrees — but as he stoo...The Harrow plantation had once been worth three hundred thousand dollars. Cotton bales filled the warehouse every autumn, wagons lined up for days to transport them to Memphis, and Judge Worthington himself had come to the house to propose insurance for the harvest. Silas was six years old at the time, sitting on his father's knee, watching the cotton gin grind its endless grey rhythm. Now the...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 7 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Fountain of ReformThe café on the corner of the Rue de Seine was fogged from the inside with the breath of a hundred conversations. Henry West sat at a corner table, a cup of coffee growing cold before him, listening to a voice that should not have existed. "You think you are the master of your reform," the voice said. It came from somewhere between sleep and waking, from the liminal space where dreams bled into...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 7 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The heat in Magnolia County did not simply make you sweat. It made you confess.Elias Thorne learned this in the summer of 1953, when he arrived back in his hometown of Oakhaven, Mississippi, carrying a duffel bag, a discharge paper from the army, and a mind full of ideas that had no place in a county where the most exciting event of the year was the magnolia bloom festival. He was twenty-three years old, five feet ten inches tall, with shoulders that had been broadened by...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 4 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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Just a Living PlaceThe garbage truck hasn't come yet but five people are already lined up at the gate of the Queens transfer station, and Doug McLaughlin is third in line because his prosthetic leg makes him slow in the dark and the cold and the nothing that passes for morning in this part of the city. He checked the rubber tip on his right leg. Worn flat again. He would need to find copper wire or aluminum cans...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 12 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Redundancy of TruthIn the city of Omonoia, there were no secrets because there were no thoughts. Every citizen was linked to the "Synapse," a planetary-scale neural network that optimized every impulse. Knowledge was a utility, like water or electricity; it was streamed directly into the mind in the most efficient format possible. To "learn" was simply to accept a verified data-packet. Silas was a "Residual." He...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 9 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Patient from BelowThe voice started on a Tuesday, in the basement of Dr. Edward Blackwood's clinic in the town of Arkham, Massachusetts. Eddie was fifteen, brilliant and troubled in equal measure, and he had spent the last three years sitting on his father's examination table while his father examined other people's minds. His father was sitting in his armchair, conducting what should have been a routine session...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 6 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Mutations of Mud and MercyThe first mutation was silence. I found Jules's journal on a Sunday morning in the second week after my mother's funeral, when the house was still full of casserole dishes and condolence cards and the smell of dying flowers. The journal was not hidden in a false bottom or a loose brick or a secret compartment. It was inside the hollow spine of a leather-bound edition of Audubon's Birds of...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 6 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Man Who Could Not Be SavedThe town of Furnace Creek, California, had a population of twenty-four, and every single one of them knew about Arthur Pendelton within a week of his arrival. Not because he talked about himself — he never did — but because a stranger in a town of twenty-four is an event, and events in Furnace Creek were rare enough to be dissected with the thoroughness of a coroner's examination. The first...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 10 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The-Black-BoxThe locked door was at the end of a corridor I had walked a hundred times before and never noticed. It was painted the same pale blue as the rest of the walls, its brass handle dulled by years of being touched and never turned. I knew it was there because Dr. Whitfield had shown me the floor plan of the research building three weeks ago, and because the key card in my pocket had been programmed...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 9 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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No Fur About ItAct I: The Rats The rats in Jack Malloy's apartment building had developed a hierarchy that was more sophisticated than most of his human neighbors. At the top were the corridor rats—big ones, scarred, confident. They lived in the walls between the third and sixth floors and knew every loose baseboard, every gap around the plumbing, every route from the food storage room on the ground floor to...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 12 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Soul ArchipelagoThe observation chamber of the Eternity Core was larger than Dr. Helena Voss had expected, which was itself a kind of irony, because the Eternity Core was supposed to contain infinity within a finite space. The chamber was circular, with walls of transparent aluminum that looked out over the Archipelago — three hundred archipelagos of light, swirling and pulsing in the void beyond, each one a...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 14 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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