Year's Best SF 5, Ausgabe 5David G. Hartwell Harper Collins, 06.06.2000 - 512 Seiten Experience New Realms Acclaimed editor and anthologist David G. Hartwell returns with this fifth annual collection of the year's most imaginative, entertaining, and mind-expanding science fiction. Here are works from some of today's most acclaimed authors, as well as visionary new talents, that will introduce you to new ideas, offer unusual perspectives, and take you to places beyond your wildest imaginings. Contributors to The Year's Best SF 5 include: Brian AldissStephen Baxter Michael Bishop Terry Bisson Greg Egan Robert Reed Kim Stanley Robinson Hiroe Suga Michael Swanwick Gene Wolfe and many more... |
Inhalt
| 36 | |
Game of the Century | 57 |
Kinds of Strangers | 97 |
Cory Doctorow | 124 |
Greg Egan | 145 |
Terry Bisson | 174 |
Gene Wolfe | 204 |
Robert J Sawyer | 222 |
Curt Wohleber | 271 |
G David Nordley | 288 |
Tom Purdom | 311 |
Chris Beckett | 362 |
Stephen Baxter | 379 |
Brian M Stableford | 404 |
Michael Swanwick | 422 |
Barry N Malzberg | 457 |
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
82 Eridani Adele Aerda Ari's asked Astolpho blood body called chipmunks Chusok coach Dennis Mountjoy Earth Erewhon EruLabi Ethan eyes face father feel fossil Frazil Galba girl Grampa Granddad hand head House human Idris Island of Adventure Jamil Janice Jean Jeff Junie junk DNA knew Kyoko laughed living looked machines Madame Dawne Margot Marlboro Miniruta Moon Morgan mountains move never Nick night Night-Dawn No-Sun nodded planet play Port Armstrong pulled Qur'an Reggie Rickover rock Sadry says Science Fiction Sean ship smile solar system Sperber stared Stephen Baxter story Stradivarius stranger sure switched talk Tech tell Teltor there's Theresa Theseus thing thought told took turned Vincent violin voice walked watched wave What's woman words Yasuko Year's Best YEAR'S BEST SF
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 35 - The wood is full of shining eyes, The wood is full of creeping feet, The wood is full of tiny cries: You must not go to the wood at night!
Seite 201 - He it is Who created you from dust, then from a small life-germ, then from a clot, then He brings you forth as a child, then that you may attain your maturity, then that you may be old — and of you there are some who are caused to die before — and that you may reach an appointed term, and that you may understand. 68. He it is Who gives life and brings death, so when He decrees an affair, He only says to it: Be, and it is.
Seite 164 - Grace was my best friend. We were students." Margit smiled. "Before everyone was a student. We'd talk about it, but we didn't believe we'd see it happen. It would come in another century. It would come for our greatgreat-grandchildren. We'd hold infants on our knees in our twilight years and tell ourselves: this one will never die. "When we were both twenty-two, something happened. To both of us.
Seite 151 - To a bystander, this might have seemed like the height of dehumanisation: twenty-two people reduced to grunting cogs in a pointless machine. Jamil smiled at the thought but refused to be distracted into a complicated imaginary rebuttal. Every step he took was the answer to that, every hoarse plea to Yann or Joracy, Chusok or Maria, Eudore or Halide. These were his friends, and he was back among them. Back in the world. The first chance of a goal was thirty seconds away, and the opportunity would...
Seite 162 - ... need someone to touch me again." "I understand." He confessed, "So do I. But that won't be all. So don't ask me to promise there'll be nothing more." Margit took his face in her hands and kissed him. Her mouth tasted of wood smoke. Jamil said, "I don't even know you." "No one knows anyone, any more." "That's not true." "No, it's not," she conceded gloomily. She ran a hand lightly along his arm. Jamil wanted badly to see her smile, so he made each dark hair thicken and blossom into a violet flower...
Seite 146 - Consciousness books — was Quarantine, it was followed by the John W. Campbell Memorial Award-winner Permutation City, Distress, Diaspora, Teranesia, and radical space opera Schild's Ladder. IN THE EARLY AFTERNOON of his fourth day out of sadness, Jamil was wandering home from the gardens at the centre of Noether when he heard shouts from the playing field behind the library. On the spur of the moment, without even asking the city what game was in progress, he decided to join in. As he rounded the...
Seite 154 - ... the line, orchestrating his response as carefully as any action in the game itself. He lay down on the grass to catch his breath before play resumed. The outer face of the microsun that orbited Laplace was shielded with rock, but light reflected skywards from the land beneath it crossed the I00,000 kilometre width of the 3-toroidal universe to give a faint glow to the planet's nightside.
Seite 260 - ... general's lady friend, Molly Levaticus. My name, by the way, is Terry W. Manson, L44/56331. I lived in Lunar City IV, popularly known as Ivy. I was General Secretary of Recreationals, working for those who manufacture IDs, or individual drugs, those enhancing drugs tailored to personal genetic codes. I had worked previously for the Luna-based MAW, the Meteor and Asteroid Watch, which was how I came to know something of General Willetts' affairs. Willetts was a big consumer of IDs. He was in charge...
Seite 157 - ... later. His own children had all abandoned him eventually, far more often than he'd left them. It was easier to leave an ex-lover than a grown child: something burned itself out in a couple, almost naturally, as if ancestral biology had prepared them for at least that one rift. Jamil stopped fighting the tears. But as he brushed them away, he caught sight of someone standing beside him. He looked up. It was Margit. He felt a need to explain. He rose to his feet and addressed her. "This was Chusok's...
Seite 257 - ... in the old days," it was well known that the caves of Altamira in northern Spain had been accidentally discovered by a girl of five. She had wandered from her father. Her father was an archaeologist, and much too busy studying an old stone to notice that his daughter had strayed from his side. It is easy to imagine the fine afternoon, the old man kneeling by the stone, the young girl picking wildflowers. She finds blue flowers, red ones and yellow. She wanders on, taking little thought. The ground...