The Sixth Science Fiction Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Science Fiction Stories
Page 1
Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT INFO
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A NOTE FROM THE PUBLISHER
OUT OF ALL THEM BRIGHT STARS, by Nancy Kress
THE HANGING STRANGER, by Philip K. Dick
WALKING JOHN AND BIRD, by Neal Asher
THE SYMPHONIC ABDUCTION, by Hannes Bok
THE NINE BILLION NAMES OF GOD, by Arthur C. Clarke
HILLARY ORBITS VENUS, by Pamela Sargent
MAYBE JUST A LITTLE ONE, by Reginald Bretnor
THE ULTROOM ERROR, by Jerry Sohl
REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS TO COME, by Lawrence Watt-Evans
THE ASTRONAUT FROM WYOMING, by Adam-Troy Castro & Jerry Oltion
PRIDE, by Mary A. Turzillo
CAT AND MOUSE, by Ralph Williams
THE RECORD, by Forrest J Ackerman and Ray Bradbury
THE NEW REALITY, by Reginald Bretnor
WHAT HATH ME? by Henry Kuttner
BRIDGE OF SILENCE, by George Zebrowski
SUN’S UP, by A.A. Jackson IV and Howard Waldrop
CONSIGNMENT, by Alan E. Nourse
THE SYNDIC, by C.M. Kornbluth (Part 1)
THE SYNDIC, by C. M. Kornbluth (Part II)
AFTER BONESTELL, by Jay Lake
THE JEWELS OF APTOR, by Samuel R. Delany (Part 1)
THE JEWELS OF APTOR, by Samuel R. Delany (Part 2)
THE MISSISSIPPI SAUCER, by Frank Belknap Long
MEMBERSHIP DRIVE, by Murray F. Yaco
CANCER WORLD, by Harry Warner, Jr.
EGOCENTRIC ORBIT, by John Cory
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
COPYRIGHT INFO
The Sixth Science Fiction Megapack is copyright © 2013 by Wildside Press LLC. Indiviual stories are copyrighted by their authors. Cover art © Innovari / Fotolia. All rights reserved.
For more information, contact the publisher through wildsidepress.com or the Wildside Press Forums. For publication information on individual stories, see the Acknowledgments page.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
“Out of All Them Bright Stars,” by Nancy Kress, originally appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, March 1985. Copyright © 1985 by Nancy Kress. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“The Hanging Stranger,” by Philip K. Dick, originally appeared in Science Fiction Adventures Magazine, December 1953.
“Walking John and Bird,” by Neal Asher, originally appeared in Runcible Tales (1999). Reprinted by permission of the author.
“The Nine Billion Names of God,” by Arthur C. Clarke, originally appeared in Star Science Fiction Stories, February 1953. Copyright © 1953 by Arthur C. Clarke. Reprinted by permission of the author’s literary agent, Scovil Galen Ghosh Literary Agency. (Winner of the 2004 Retro Hugo Award, short story category, awarded for best science fiction story of 1953.)
“Hillary Orbits Venus,” by Pamela Sargent, originally appeared in Amazing Stories, Spring 1999. Copyright © 1999 by Pamela Sargent. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Maybe Just a Little One,” by Reginald Bretnor, originally appeared in Harper’s Magazine, August 1947. Copyright © 1947 by Reginald Bretnor, copyright renewed © 1975. Reprinted be permission of the copyright owner, Wildside Press LLC.
“Remembrance of Things to Come,” by Lawrence Watt-Evans, originally appeared in Analog, April 1999.
“The Astronaut from Wyoming,” by Adam-Troy Castro and Jerry Oltion, originally appeared in Analog, July/August 1999. Copyright 1999 by by Adam-Troy Castro and Jerry Oltion. Reprinted by permission of the authors.
“Pride,” by Mary A. Turzillo, originally appeared in Fast Forward 1. Copyright © 1997 by Mary A Turzillo. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Cat and Mouse,” by Ralph Williams, originally appeared in Astounding Science Fiction, June 1959.
“The Record,” by Forrest J Ackerman and Ray Bradbury, originally appeared in Futuria Fantasia #1, Summer 1939.
“The New Reality,” by Reginald Bretnor, originally appeared in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, September 1984. Copyright © 1984 by Reginald Bretnor. Reprinted be permission of the copyright owner, Wildside Press LLC.
“What Hath Me?” by Henry Kuttner, originally appeared in Planet Stories, Spring 1946. No record of copyright renewal.
“Bridge of Silence, by George Zebrowski, is copyright © 1986 George Zebrowski. First published in Aboriginal Science Fiction, December 1986. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Sun’s Up,” by A.A. Jackson IV and Howard Waldrop, originally appeared in Faster Than Light. Copyright © 1976 by A.A. Jackson IV and Howard Waldrop. Reprinted by permission of the authors.
Consignment, by Alan E. Nourse, originally appeared in Science Fiction Adventures, December 1953.
“The Syndic,” by C.M. Kornbluth, originally appeared in Science Fiction Adventures, December 1953 and March 1954 issues.
“The Jewels of Aptor,” by Samuel R. Delany, originally appeared in 1962.
“The Mississippi Saucer,” by Frank Belknap Long, originally appeared in Weird Tales, March 1951.
“Membership Drive,” by Murray F. Yaco, originally appeared in Amazing Stories, July 1960.
“Cancer World,” by Harry Warner, Jr. originally appeared in Imagination, May 1954.
A NOTE FROM THE PUBLISHER
Over the last year, our “Megapack” series of ebook anthologies has proved to be one of our most popular endeavors. (Maybe it helps that we sometimes offer them as premiums to our mailing list!) One question we keep getting asked is, “Who’s the editor?”
The Megapacks (except where specifically credited) are a group effort. Everyone at Wildside works on them. This includes John Betancourt, Carla Coupe, Steve Coupe, Bonner Menking, Colin Azariah-Kribbs, A.E. Warren, and many of Wildside’s authors…who often suggest stories to include (and not just their own!). For instance, Pamela Sargent’s alternate-worlds story in this issue was suggested by George Zebrowski, after we approached George to reprint “The Eichmann Variations” (which we remembered from its original publication in Michael Bishop’s excellent anthology, Light Years and Dark [1984]).
* * * *
In The Fifth Science Fiction Megapack, we include two award-winners and a bunch of nominees. “Or All the Seas with Oysters,” by Avram Davidson, won a Hugo Award. And “The Peacemaker,” by Gardner Dozois, won a Nebula Award. “The Eichmann Variations,” by George Zebrowski, was a Nebula Award finalist; “Code Three,” by Rick Raphael, was a Hugo finalist; and “May Be Some Time,” by Brenda Clough, was both a Hugo and a Nebula finalist.
If you’re in the mood for more Avram Davidson after reading “Or All the Seas with Oysters,” Audible is releasing his short story collection Or All the Seas with Oysters (which contains the title story we reprinted here—plus many others) in audiobook format. This will be the third Davidson audiobook they have released in the last year. Good stuff!
A NOTE FOR KINDLE READERS
The Kindle versions of our Megapacks employ active tables of contents for easy navigation…please look for one before writing reviews on Amazon that complain about the lack! (They are sometimes at the ends of ebooks, depending on your reader.)
We continue to work on improving our ebook navigation, and with this Megapack, we hope to have the table of contents at both the beginning and the end. (If not, we’re sure we’ll hear about it...)
RECOMMEND A FAVORITE STORY?
Do you know a great classic scienc
e fiction story, or have a favorite author whom you believe is perfect for the Megapack series? We’d love your suggestions! You can post them on our message board at http://movies.ning.com/forum (there is an area for Wildside Press comments).
Note: we only consider stories that have already been professionally published. This is not a market for new works.
TYPOS
Unfortunately, as hard as we try, a few typos do slip through. We update our ebooks periodically, so make sure you have the current version (or download a fresh copy if it’s been sitting in your ebook reader for months.) It may have already been updated.
If you spot a new typo, please let us know. We’ll fix it for everyone. You can email the publisher at wildsidepress@yahoo.com or use the message boards above.
—John Betancourt
Publisher, Wildside Press LLC
www.wildsidepress.com
* * * *
THE MEGAPACK SERIES
The Adventure Megapack
The Christmas Megapack
The Second Christmas Megapack
The Cowboy Megapack
The Craig Kennedy Scientific Detective Megapack
The Cthulhu Mythos Megapack
The Ghost Story Megapack
The Horror Megapack
The Macabre Megapack
The Martian Megapack
The Military Megapack
The Mummy Megapack
The Mystery Megapack
The Science Fiction Megapack
The Second Science Fiction Megapack
The Third Science Fiction Megapack
The Fourth Science Fiction Megapack
The Fifth Science Fiction Megapack
The Sixth Science Fiction Megapack
The Penny Parker Megapack
The Pinocchio Megapack
The Pulp Fiction Megapack
The Steampunk Megapack
The Tom Corbett, Space Cadet Megapack
The Tom Swift Megapack
The Vampire Megapack
The Victorian Mystery Megapack
The Western Megapack
The Wizard of Oz Megapack
AUTHOR MEGAPACKS
The Andre Norton Megapack
The B.M. Bower Megapack
The Murray Leinster Megapack
The Second Murray Leinster Megapack
The Andre Norton Megapack
The Rafael Sabatini Megapack
OUT OF ALL THEM BRIGHT STARS, by Nancy Kress
So I’m filling the catsup bottles at the end of the night, and I’m listening to the radio Charlie has stuck up on top of a movable panel in the ceiling, when the door opens and one of them walks in. I know right away it’s one of them—no chance to make a mistake about that—even though it’s got on a nice suit and a brim hat like Humphrey Bogart used to wear in Casablanca. But there’s nobody with it, no professor or government men like on the TV show or even any students. It’s all alone. And we’re a long way out on the highway from the college.
It stands in the doorway, blinking a little, with rain dripping off its hat. Kathy, who’s supposed to be cleaning the coffee machine behind the counter, freezes and stares with one hand holding the filter up in the air like she’s never going to move again. Just then Charlie calls out from the kitchen, “Hey, Kathy, you ask anybody who won the Trifecta?” and she doesn’t even answer him. Just goes on staring with her mouth open like she’s thinking of screaming but forgot how. And the old couple in the corner booth, the only ones left from the crowd when the movie got out, stop chewing their chocolate cream pie and stare too. Kathy closes her mouth and opens it again and a noise comes out like “Uh—errrgh…”
Well, that got me annoyed. Maybe she tried to say “ugh” and maybe she didn’t, but here it is standing in the doorway with rain falling around it in little drops and we’re staring at it like it’s a clothes dummy and not a customer. So I think that’s not right and maybe we’re even making it feel a little bad, I wouldn’t like Kathy staring at me like that, and I dry my hands on my towel and go over.
“Yes, sir, can I help you?” I say.
“Table for one,” it says, like Charlie’s is some nice steak house in town. But I suppose that’s the kind of place the government men mostly take them to. And besides, its voice is polite and easy to understand, with a sort of accent but not as bad as some we get from the college. I can tell what it’s saying. I lead him to a booth in the corner opposite the old couple, who come in every Friday night and haven’t left a tip yet.
He sits down slowly. I notice he keeps his hands on his lap, but I can’t tell if that’s because he doesn’t know what to do with them or because he thinks I won’t want to see them. But I’ve seen the close-ups on TV—they don’t look so weird to me like they do to some. Charlie says they make his stomach turn, but I can’t see it. You think he’d of seen worse meat in Vietnam. He talks enough like he did, on and on, and sometimes we even believe him.
I say, “Coffee, sir?”
He makes a kind of movement with his eyes. I can’t tell what the movement means, but he says in that polite voice, “No, thank you. I am unable to drink coffee,” and I think that’s a good thing because I suddenly remember Kathy’s got the filter out. But then he says, “May I have a green salad, please? With no dressing, please?”
The rain is still dripping off his hat. I figure the government people never told him to take off his hat in a restaurant, and for some reason that tickles me and makes me feel real bold. This polite blue guy isn’t going to bother nobody, and that fool Charlie was just spouting off his mouth again.
“The salad’s not too fresh, sir,” I say, experimental-like, just to see what he’ll say next. And it’s the truth—the salad is left over from yesterday. But the guy answers like I asked something else.
“What is your name?” he says, so polite I know he’s really curious and not trying to start anything. And what could he start anyway, blue and with those hands? Still, you never know.
“Sally,” I say, “Sally Gourley.”
“I am John,” he says, and makes that movement again with his eyes. All of a sudden it tickles me—‘John!’ For this blue guy! So I laugh, and right away I feel sorry, like I might have hurt his feelings or something. How could you tell?
“Hey, I’m sorry,” I say, and he takes off his hat. He does it real slow, like taking off the hat is important and means something, but all there is underneath is a bald blue head. Nothing weird like with the hands.
“Do not apologize,” John says. “I have another name, of course, but in my own language.”
“What is it?” I say, bold as brass, because all of a sudden I picture myself telling all this to my sister Mary Ellen and her listening real hard.
John makes some noises with his mouth, and I feel my own mouth open because it’s not a word he says at all, it’s a beautiful sound, like a bird call only sadder. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting it, that beautiful sound right here in Charlie’s diner. It surprised me, coming out of that bald blue head. That’s all it was: surprise.
I don’t say anything. John looks at me and says, “It has a meaning that can be translated. It means—” but before he can say what it means Charlie comes charging out of the kitchen, Kathy right behind him. He’s still got the racing form in one hand, like he’s been studying the Trifecta, and he pushes right up against the booth and looks red and furious. Then I see the old couple scuttling out the door, their jackets clutched to their fronts, and the chocolate pie half-eaten on their plates. I see they’re going to stiff me for the check, but before I can stop them Charlie grabs my arm and squeezes so hard his nails slice into my skin.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he says right to me. Not so much as a look at John, but Kathy can’t stop looking and her fist is pushed up to her mouth.
I drag my arm away and rub it. Once I saw Charlie push his wife so hard she went down and hit her head and had to have four stitches. It was me that drove her to the emergency room.
Charlie says, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m serving my table. He wants a salad. Large.” I can’t remember if John said a large or a small salad, but I figure a large order would make Charlie feel better. But Charlie don’t want to feel better.
“You get him out of here,” Charlie hisses. He still doesn’t look at John. “You hear me, Sally? You get him out. The government says I gotta serve spics and niggers but it don’t say I gotta serve him!”
I look at John. He’s putting on his hat, ramming it onto his bald head, and half standing in the booth. He can’t get out because Charlie and me are both in the way. I expect John to look mad or upset, but except that he’s holding the muscles of his face in some different way I can’t see any change of expression. But I figure he’s got to feel something bad, and all of a sudden I’m mad at Charlie, who’s a bully and who’s got the feelings of a scumbag. I open my mouth to tell him so, plus one or two other little things I been saving up, when the door flies open and in bursts four men, and damn if they aren’t all wearing hats like Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca. As soon as the first guy sees John, his walk changes and he comes over slower but more purposeful-like, and then he’s talking to John and Charlie in a sincere voice like a TV anchorman giving out the news.
I see the situation now belongs to him, so I go back to the catsup bottles. I’m still plenty burned though, about Charlie manhandling me and about Kathy rushing into the kitchen to get Charlie. She’s a flake and always has been.
Charlie is scowling and nodding. The harder he scowls, the nicer the government guy’s voice gets. Pretty soon the government guy is smiling sweet as pie. Charlie slinks back into the kitchen, and the four men move toward the door with John in the middle of them like some high school football huddle. Next to the real men he looks stranger than he did before, and I see how really flat his face is. But then when the huddle’s right opposite my table with the catsup bottles, John breaks away and comes over to me.
“I am sorry, Sally Gourley,” he says. And then, “I seldom have the chance to show our friendliness to an ordinary earth person. I make so little difference!”
Well, that throws me. His voice sounds so sad, and besides I never thought of myself as an ordinary earth person. Who would? So I just shrug and wipe off a catsup bottle with my towel. But then John does a weird thing. He just touches my arm where Charlie squeezed it, just touches it with the palm of one of those hands. And the palm’s not slimy at all—dry, and sort of cool, and I don’t jump or anything. Instead I remember that beautiful noise when he said his other name. Then he goes out with three of the men and the door bangs behind them on a gust of rain because Charlie never fixed the air-stop from when some kids horsing around broke it last spring.