The Road to Amber — Volume 6: The Collected Stories of Roger Zelazny
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The last in a six-volume series Volume 6: The Road To Amber, the last in the series, covers the final five years of Zelazny's career in the early 1990s, when he reached for new ideas and continued familiar themes with stories such as "Godson" and "Godson: A Play in Three Acts," two more Wild Cards stories ("Concerto for Siren and Serotonin" and "The Long Sleep"), and a linked sequence of five Amber stories leading to planned but unwritten Amber novels.
nodded slowly. “I see what you mean,” he said. “If that’s what the job calls for, sure, I can do it. No problem.” “With that understanding, I want to hire you. It’s a little more subtle than breaking heads, though. And it isn’t any sort of simple burglary either.” “I’ve done lots of odd things,” Croyd said, “and lots of subtle things. Some of them have even been legal.” They both smiled. “For this one, it may well be that you see no violence,” Mazzucchelli said. “Like I told you, my business
have long been an admirer of Phil Dick.” He did the other collaborations for similar reasons: the project and the collaborator both appealed to him. And he approached each effort as yet another learning opportunity in the writing craft. Posthumous Works “The Three Descents of Jeremy Baker” appeared in July 1995 issue of the Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, the last publication of a new Roger Zelazny short story in the sf magazines. Reprinted in The Years Best Science Fiction, it
dying goes on, goes on; oh, how the dying goes on. MORRIE Guess you’re going to have to learn a few more things, then. DAVID If you’re teaching, I’ll take notes. MORRIE Not yet, but soon. (He reaches out, touches DAVID’s cup of coffee. Steam begins rising from it. He rises and faces the window.) About time. (A car horn blares o.s., followed by the sound ofa collision.) I’m needed. Good night. (exits) Lights fade, come up on a park. DAVID addresses the audience. DAVID He didn’t
mustaches, they beheld the stone known as the Dagger of Rama, displayed on a folded black cloth before them. Almost four inches in length, it was broad at the base, tapering upward to a sharp apex; its outline would be that of a somewhat elongated isosceles triangle, save that the lower corners were missing. It was perfectly clear, without a hint of color to it. Kalifriki raised it, breathed upon it. The condensation of his breath vanished immediately. He scrutinized it then through a glass. ”A
hear me, tonight. All right. Tonight is the night, but I want you to know that I hold everything in the palm of my hand. You waste your time if you think that you can do much about it. I know you’ve been waiting to nail me, Yuleki, but it’s too damned late. I’ve been sucking power out of this land down the years. I’m too strong for you now. One touch more, and the world I have set up will endure forever.” “Alice,” Lucer said softly, “I am going to break these chains now and fight him. We are of