by Mike Ashley
Contents
THE END OF ALL THINGS Mike Ashley
THE NATURE OF THE CATASTROPHE
WHEN WE WENT TO SEE THE END OF THE WORLD Robert Silverberg
THE END OF THE WORLD Sushma Joshi
THE CLOCKWORK ATOM BOMB Dominic Green
BLOODLETTING Kate Wilhelm
WHEN SYSADMINS RULED THE EARTH Cory Doctorow
THE RAIN AT THE END OF THE WORLD Dale Bailey
THE FLOOD Linda Nagata
THE END OF THE WORLD SHOW David Barnett
FERMI AND FROST Frederik Pohl
SLEEPOVER Alastair Reynolds
THE LAST SUNSET Geoffrey A. Landis
BEYOND ARMAGEDDON
MOMENTS OF INERTIA William Barton
THE BOOKS Kage Baker
PALLBEARER Robert Reed
AND THE DEEP BLUE SEA Elizabeth Bear
THE MEEK Damien Broderick
THE MAN WHO WALKED HOME James Tiptree Jr
A PAIL OF AIR Fritz Leiber
GUARDIANS OF THE PHOENIX Eric Brown
LIFE IN THE ANTHROPOCENE Paul Di Filippo
TERRAFORMING TERRA Jack Williamson
THE END OF ALL THINGS
WORLD WITHOUT END F. Gwynplaine Maclntyre
THE CHILDREN OF TIME Stephen Baxter
THE STAR CALLED WORMWOOD Elizabeth Counihan
The Mammoth Book of Apocalyptic SF
Edited by
Mike Ashley
THE END OF ALL THINGS
Mike Ashley
We seem to have a fascination for the Apocalypse, the end of all things. It's not that we welcome it, least I hope not, but it seems that we can't help wondering about it, even predicting it. "The End is Nigh", a phrase perhaps too-oft used to have the impact it once had, has now passed into our language to signify yet another fallacious prediction.
There are the obvious religious connotations of the Apocalypse or the Day of Judgment - the biblical Armageddon, the Nordic Ragnarok, the Islamic Qiyamah (Doomsday), and so on - and this in turn may feed into the growing scientific awareness of our mortality through such possibilities as pandemics, cosmic catastrophes, climate change or the inevitable death of the Sun. The imagery of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, representing Conquest, War, Famine and Death, is as potent today as ever.
This anthology brings together stories that look at many of the ways that the Earth, or life upon it, may be destroyed, from plagues to floods, nuclear war to collision with a comet, alien invasion to new technologies run wild, and a few things beyond your widest imaginings.
It's all here, and more besides. But I didn't want an anthology where every story ended with death and destruction - that would become rather depressing over 500 pages - so to provide a balance I decided to introduce some hope for the future. At least half the stories take us beyond the end of civilization, even the end of the Earth, and look at how life - albeit not as we know it - may go on. Science fiction has had its own fascination with the end of all things since at least Le Dernier Homme ("The Last Man") written by the French priest Jean-Baptiste Cousin de Grainville at the end of the eighteenth century. He had lived through the French Revolution, which had rather soured his view of the world and drove him into depression and eventual suicide in 1805, leaving this pioneering work in manuscript. It has some remarkably advanced ideas in depicting a world which, through mismanagement and overpopulation, had become ecologically exhausted.
The experience of the Reign of Terror doubtless fuelled de Grainville's work, and it is not surprising that certain events, such as the end of a century (or millennium) or World Wars, focus minds on a potential Apocalypse. Although a few books followed de Grainville's - including the like-named The Last Man (1826) by Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein, which had humanity wiped out by a virulent plague, and Edgar Allan Poe's "The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion" (1839), one of the first stories to have Earth destroyed by a comet - the real torrent of books came towards the end of the nineteenth century.
Two novels served as precursors to the main event: After London (1885) by Richard Jefferies, depicted a Britain that has reverted to the Stone Age following an unspecified catastrophe; The Last American (1889) by John Ames Mitchell has a Persian expedition explore the ruins of New York, the United States having been destroyed by social unrest.
The noted French astronomer, Camille Flammarion, wrote one of the first major novels of worldwide disaster, La fin du monde (1894), better known as Omega: The Last Days of the World, where a vast comet not only destroys life on Earth but also on Mars. H.G. Wells almost destroyed all life in "The Star" (1897) but salvation was at hand thanks to the Moon. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, best known for creating Sherlock Holmes, combined the ideas of a plague and cosmic disaster in The Poison Belt (1913), where he has the Earth pass through a toxic belt in space. M.P. Shiel had used a similar idea in The Purple Cloud (1901), when a volcano releases a mass of poisonous vapour from deep within the Earth. Wells developed another form of Armageddon when human life is threatened by the arrival of the Martians in The War of the Worlds (1898).
There were the inevitable apocalyptic stories following the First World War. Edward Shanks saw the end of civilization in The People of the Ruins (1920), while in Nordenholt's Million (1923) J.J. Connington showed how science might bring civilization back from the brink of an ecological disaster. Interestingly, one of the earliest stories to consider how civilization might crumble through an over-reliance on technology was written as far back as 1909 by E.M. Forster in "The Machine Stops".
The Second World War and the detonation of the A-bomb inevitably brought forth many stories of a nuclear holocaust such as The Long Loud Silence (1952) by Wilson Tucker, On the Beach (1957) by Nevil Shute and, perhaps the best known, Dr Strangelo-ve (1963), the Stanley Kubrick film based on the novel Red Alert by Peter George. The Cold War saw a rise in disaster novels generally, particularly in Britain, where The Day of the Triffids (1951) by John Wyndham, The Death of Grass (1956) by John Christopher, White August (1955) by John Boland and The Tide Went Out (1958) by Charles Eric Maine created what veteran British SF author Brian Aldiss later termed the "cosy catastrophe". J. G. Ballard established his reputation with a quartet of disaster novels based on the four elements of air, water, fire and earth: The Wind From Nowhere (1961), The Drowned World (1962), The Burning World (1964) and The Crystal World (1966).
The welter of catastrophe novels and films grew exponentially with the approach of the millennium. Life on Earth is all but wiped out by a comet in Lucifer's Hammer (1977) by Jerry Pournelle and Larry Niven. We see how isolated survivors cope in a post-holocaust world in The Postman (1985) by David Brin and in The Gate to Women's Country (1988) by Sheri S. Tepper. Sea levels rise in The Road to Corlay (1978) by Richard Cowper and the United States is flooded in Forty Signs of Rain (2004) by Kim Stanley Robinson, while Stephen Baxter drowns the Earth in Flood (2008). Greg Bear has aliens systematically destroying the solar system in The Forge of God (1987). In The Stand (1978), a genuinely apocalyptic novel, Stephen King has most of humanity wiped out by a virulent flu strain, whilst a man-made plague destroys civilization in David Palmer's Emergence (1984). There's a combined nuclear and ecological holocaust in Mother of Storms (1994) by John Barnes, while a major cosmic catastrophe causes climate change in Charles Sheffield's Aftermath (1998). Most recently Cormac McCarthy's The Road (2006), which won a Pulitzer Prize, presents a very bleak vision of a world all but destroyed by some unexplained catastrophe. Recent TV series such as Survivors, Deepwater Black and Jericho and films such as Deep Impact, the Terminator series and Armageddon continue to stimulate our thoughts and fill our minds with apocalyptic imagery.
All of which goes to show
the popularity and enormity of the field and the richness of its history, and created something of a challenge in assembling this anthology. I had considered including many of the classics of the genre but found there was so much new fiction being produced in the last ten years or so that I only had room to squeeze in a couple of older stories, those by Fritz Leiber and Robert Silverberg.
What was so noticeable about the new strain of apocalyptic fiction was how much it showed our fear of new technology, particularly nanotechno-logy. I could have filled this book with stories of nanotechdoom alone but I wanted to get a good spread of catastrophes, both pre- and post-apocalyptic and the inevitable dying Earth. You will find plagues or the threat of plagues in the stories by Robert Reed and Kate Wilhelm; floods in those by Dale Bailey and Linda Nagata; a nuclear holocaust and its aftermath in those by Frederik Pohl and Elizabeth Bear; climate change in the stories by Eric Brown and Paul Di Filippo; cosmic disasters in those by David Barnett, Geoffrey Landis and William Barton, and the threat of technology or how it might save us in the stories by Cory Doctorow, Damien Broderick and F. Gwynplaine Macintyre. Alastair Reynolds brings an entirely new form of apocalypse in his novelette, one of six new stories in this anthology. We travel into the far distant future to see how humanity re-evolves in Jack Williamson's story, and the end of the human race in the stories by Stephen Baxter and Elizabeth Counihan.
But as I predicted, it is not all doom and gloom. Many of the stories show the resilience of mankind in coping with disaster and rebuilding the world. These may be warning stories but there are also messages of hope here.
The Beginning is Nigh ...
WHEN WE WENT TO SEE THE END OF THE WORLD
Robert Silverberg
We start on a fairly light-hearted note with this parody of the end-of-the-world theme where time travel allows people to witness the final apocalypse. But which one?
Created a Grand Master by the Science Fiction Writers of America in 2004, Robert Silverberg is the dean of science fiction, having been writing prolifically for over fifty years, producing not only an immense body of work but one of remarkable quality and diversity. Amongst his major works are Nightwings (1969), A Time of Changes (1971), Dying Inside (1972), Born With the Dead (1974), The Stochastic Man (1975), Lord Valentine's Castle (1980) and The Secret Sharer (1989). Silverberg has written his own share of apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic works. To Open the Sky (1967) is set in a claustrophobically overpopulated future, whilst At Winter's End (1988) sees how humanity recovers after a new Ice Age.
* * *
NICK AND JANE WERE GLAD that they had gone to see the end of the world, because it gave them something special to talk about at Mike and Ruby's party. One always likes to come to a party armed with a little conversation. Mike and Ruby give marvelous parties.
Their home is superb, one of the finest in the neighborhood. It is truly a home for all seasons, all moods. Their very special corner of the world. With more space indoors and out ... more wide-open freedom. The living room with its exposed ceiling beams is a natural focal point for entertaining. Custom-finished, with a conversation pit and fireplace. There's also a family room with beamed ceiling and wood paneling ... plus a study. And a magnificent master suite with a twelve-foot dressing room and private bath. Solidly impressive exterior design. Sheltered courtyard. Beautifully wooded one-third of an acre grounds.
Their parties are highlights of any month. Nick and Jane waited until they thought enough people had arrived. Then Jane nudged Nick and Nick said gaily, "You know what we did last week? Hey, we went to see the end of the world!"
"The end of the world?" Henry asked.
"You went to see it?" said Henry's wife Cynthia.
"How did you manage that?" Paula wanted to know.
"It's been available since March," Stan told her. "I think a division of American Express runs it."
Nick was put out to discover that Stan already knew. Quickly, before Stan could say anything more, Nick said, "Yes, it's just started. Our travel agent found out for us. What they do is they put you in this machine, it looks like a tiny teeny submarine, you know, with dials and levers up front behind a plastic wall to keep you from touching anything, and they send you into the future. You can charge it with any of the regular credit cards."
"It must be very expensive," Marcia said.
"They're bringing the costs down rapidly," Jane said. "Last year only millionaires could afford it. Really, haven't you heard about it before?"
"What did you see?" Henry asked.
"For a while, just greyness outside the porthole," said Nick. "And a kind of flickering effect." Everybody was looking at him. He enjoyed the attention. Jane wore a rapt, loving expression. "Then the haze cleared and a voice said over a loudspeaker that we had now reached the very end of time, when life had become impossible on Earth. Of course, we were sealed into the submarine thing. Only looking out. On this beach, this empty beach. The water a funny grey color with a pink sheen. And then the sun came up. It was red like it sometimes is at sunrise, only it stayed red as it got to the middle of the sky, and it looked lumpy and saggy at the edges. Like a few of us, ha ha. Lumpy and sagging at the edges. A cold wind blowing across the beach."
"If you were sealed in the submarine, how did you know there was a cold wind?" Cynthia asked.
Jane glared at her. Nick said, "We could see the sand blowing around. And it looked cold. The grey ocean. Like winter."
"Tell them about the crab," said Jane.
"Yes, the crab. The last life-form on Earth. It wasn't really a crab, of course, it was something about two feet wide and a foot high, with thick shiny green armor and maybe a dozen legs and some curving horns coming up, and it moved slowly from right to left in front of us. It took all day to cross the beach. And toward nightfall it died. Its horns went limp and it stopped moving. The tide came in and carried it away. The sun went down. There wasn't any moon. The stars didn't seem to be in the right places. The loudspeaker told us we had just seen the death of Earth's last living thing."
"How eerie!" cried Paula.
"Were you gone very long?" Ruby asked.
"Three hours," Jane said. "You can spend weeks or days at the end of the world, if you want to pay extra, but they always bring you back to a point three hours after you went. To hold down the babysitter expenses."
Mike offered Nick some pot. "That's really something," he said. "To have gone to the end of the world. Hey, Ruby, maybe we'll talk to the travel agent about it."
Nick took a deep drag and passed the joint to Jane. He felt pleased with himself about the way he had told the story. They had all been very impressed. That swollen red sun, that scuttling crab. The trip had cost more than a month in Japan, but it had been a good investment. He and Jane were the first in the neighborhood who had gone. That was important. Paula was staring at him in awe. Nick knew that she regarded him in a completely different light now. Possibly she would meet him at a motel on Tuesday at lunchtime. Last month she had turned him down but now he had an extra attractiveness for her. Nick winked at her. Cynthia was holding hands with Stan. Henry and Mike both were crouched at Jane's feet. Mike and Ruby's twelve-year-old son came into the room and stood at the edge of the conversation pit. He said, "There just was a bulletin on the news. Mutated amoebas escaped from a government research station and got into Lake Michigan. They're carrying a tissue-dissolving virus and everybody in seven states is supposed to boil their water until further notice." Mike scowled at the boy and said, "It's after your bedtime, Timmy." The boy went out. The doorbell rang. Ruby answered it and returned with Eddie and Fran.
Paula said, "Nick and Jane went to see the end of the world. They've just been telling us about it."
"Gee," said Eddie, "We did that too, on Wednesday night."
Nick was crestfallen. Jane bit her lip and asked Cynthia quietly why Fran always wore such flashy dresses. Ruby said, "You saw the whole works, eh? The crab and everything?"
"The crab?" Eddie said. "What c
rab? We didn't see the crab."
"It must have died the time before," Paula said. "When Nick and Jane were there."
Mike said, "A fresh shipment of Cuernavaca Lightning is in. Here, have a toke."
"How long ago did you do it?" Eddie said to Nick.
"Sunday afternoon. I guess we were about the first."
"Great trip, isn't it?" Eddie said. "A little somber, though. When the last hill crumbles into the sea."
"That's not what we saw," said Jane. "And you didn't see the crab? Maybe we were on different trips."
Mike said, "What was it like for you, Eddie?"
Eddie put his arms around Cynthia from behind. He said, "They put us into this little capsule, with a porthole, you know, and a lot of instruments and—"
"We heard that part," said Paula. "What did you see?"
"The end of the world," Eddie said. "When water covers everything. The sun and the moon were in the sky at the same time—"
"We didn't see the moon at all," Jane remarked. "It just wasn't there."
"It was on one side and the sun was on the other," Eddie went on. "The moon was closer than it should have been. And a funny color, almost like bronze. And the ocean creeping up. We went halfway around the world and all we saw was ocean. Except in one place, there was this chunk of land sticking up, this hill, and the guide told us it was the top of Mount Everest." He waved to Fran. "That was groovy, huh, floating in our tin boat next to the top of Mount Everest. Maybe ten feet of it sticking up. And the water rising all the time. Up, up, up. Up and over the top. Glub. No land left. I have to admit it was a little disappointing, except of course the idea of the thing. That human ingenuity can design a machine that can send people billions of years forward in time and bring them back, wow! But there was just this ocean."
"How strange," said Jane. "We saw the ocean too, but there was a beach, a kind of nasty beach, and the crab-thing walking along it, and the sun - it was all red, was the sun red when you saw it?"
