Axiomatic: Short Stories of Science Fiction
Greg Egan
Language: English
Pages: 384
ISBN: 1597805408
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
—The Guardian
Axiomatic is a wonderful collection of eighteen short stories by Hugo Award–winning author Greg Egan. The stories in this collection have appeared in such science fiction magazines as Interzone and Asimov’s between 1989 and 1992.
From junkies who drink at the time-stream to love affairs in time-reversed galaxies; from gene-altered dolphins that converse only in limericks to the program that allows you to design your own child; from the brain implants called axiomatics to the strange attractors that spin off new religions; from bioengineering to the new physics; and from cyberpunk to the electronic frontier, Greg Egan’s future is frighteningly close to our own present.
Included in this collection are such wonderful stories as:
“Axiomatic”
“Into Darkness”
“The Safe-Deposit Box”
“Blood Sisters”
And many more!
Axiomatic is the perfect collection for any science fiction fan, especially one who enjoys Greg Egan’s work. The stories are imaginative and insightful, and written only the way that Greg Egan can do so.
Skyhorse Publishing, under our Night Shade and Talos imprints, is proud to publish a broad range of titles for readers interested in science fiction (space opera, time travel, hard SF, alien invasion, near-future dystopia), fantasy (grimdark, sword and sorcery, contemporary urban fantasy, steampunk, alternative history), and horror (zombies, vampires, and the occult and supernatural), and much more. While not every title we publish becomes a New York Times bestseller, a national bestseller, or a Hugo or Nebula award-winner, we are committed to publishing quality books from a diverse group of authors.
restrictions, ethics committees. Some people learn to live with all that, some don’t.’ ‘Would you know anything about her work, her particular research interests, after she left?’ ‘I don’t know that she did much research. She seemed to have stopped publishing, so I really couldn’t say what she was up to.’ Shortly after that (with unusual speed), clearance came through to access her taxation records. Since ‘35 she had been self-employed as a ‘freelance biotechnology consultant’; whatever
please! This is a wonderful day!’ I stopped walking. The guards on either side of me stopped too, and did nothing to force me on. I said, ‘I won’t do it.’ The man in white was indulgent. ‘Why ever not?’ I stared at him, trembling. I felt like a child. Not since childhood had I confronted anyone this way, without the priming drugs to calm me, without a weapon within easy reach, without absolute confidence in my strength and agility. ‘When we’ve done what you want, you’re going to kill
network. I eavesdropped on the data flow of several company executives who chose to work from home. It didn’t take long to identify the least computer-literate. A real bumbling fool, who used ten-thousand-dollar spreadsheet software to do what the average five-year-old could have done without fingers and toes. I watched his clumsy responses when the spreadsheet package gave him error messages. He was a gift from heaven; he simply didn’t have a clue. And, best of all, he was forever running
‘Good morning’; a few take their trays into a common room, where there’s a TV tuned to news. Perhaps the degree of calm is unnatural, due solely to drugs; perhaps the peacefulness that makes my job untraumatic is stultifying and oppressive to the patients. Perhaps not. Maybe one day I’ll find out. My last patient, the single blue sticker, is listed as Klein, F. C. A skinny, middle-aged man with untidy black hair and a few days’ stubble. He’s lying so straight that I expect to see straps
savagely hot, and once I move out of the buffer zone, the streets are crowded. People are coming and going from nightclubs, liquor stores, pawn shops, gambling houses, brothels. Power for street lighting has been cut off from this part of the city, but someone civic-minded has replaced the normal bulbs with self-contained tritium/phosphor globes, spilling a cool, pale light like radioactive milk. There’s a popular misconception that most S users do nothing but dream, twenty-four hours a day, but