A Thousand Deaths
George Alec Effinger
Language: English
Pages: 343
ISBN: 1930846479
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Wagner's Ring Cycle, deep in the bass section of the score. It occurred throughout the four operas, foreshadowing all sorts of mythical gruesomeness. Courane couldn't remember the actual name of the motif, but it was usually played just before Siegfried ran into a hideous dragon or something. It did not bode well. Courane's forced stroll through the woods was less interesting than what he eventually discovered, so briefly imagine for yourselves the serene yet oddly threatening surroundings. What
trot out the complete shadow play of wicked witchery. As it is, you make a rather scanty victim, and I don't feel inspired to give it much more than the bare minimum." Courane felt several emotions at once, ranging from disbelief to outrage. "Well, pardon me, then, madam," he said. "I apologize for not being a pair of pre-pubic kids lost in the muttering forest. I'm a grown man and you'll just have to deal with it. You can't always get what you want, you know. I'm not overwhelmingly thrilled
was in his own handwriting. The wind was cold and cut him like knives. The sand stung his face and brought tears to his eyes. He stared at the words and his vision blurred. He knew that it was a terrible thing to forget the woman he loved. He wondered how that could happen. He hadn't been lonely before, but now he felt a deep aching. He put the paper back in his pocket and sat down beside the young woman's corpse. He wanted to hurry to the house, but he had to wait until the sun came up. He
TECT. He had learned that Arthur had been informing the machine of their activities—and that opened the question of others besides Arthur doing the same thing. And through all this Alohilani sank deeper into the final lethargy of D syndrome. On a cold, gray morning, Klára approached him at breakfast with a request. It was the first time someone on the farm had asked him to beg TECT for a favor. With Klára, though, it was more a threat than a request. "I want my husband, my daughter, and certain
but scarred by the fire, his skin burned and painful. He caught the smell of scorched hair. His eyes still stung from the hot smoke. When he took a deep breath, it felt like a raw, ragged wound in his chest. He had to rest for a moment, despite the chance that the entire underground complex would soon become his funeral pyre, a vast subterranean furnace, trapping him forever far from the clean, cool world above. TECT knew these things. TECT still watched and listened and evaluated Vortis's