Steampunk III: Steampunk Revolution
Steampunk Revolution features a renegade collective of writers and artists, including steampunk legends and hot, new talents rebooting the steam-driven past and powering it into the future. Lev Grossman’s “Sir Ranulph Wykeham-Rackham, GBE, a.k.a. Roboticus the All-Knowing” is the Six-Million-Dollar Steampunk Man, possessing appendages and workings recycled from metal parts, yet also fully human, resilient, and determined. Bruce Sterling’s “White Fungus” introduces steampunk’s younger cousin, salvage-punk, speculating on how cities will be built in the future using preexisting materials. Cat Valente’s “Mother Is a Machine” explores the merging of man and machine and a whole new form of parenting. In Jeff VanderMeer’s anti-steampunk story “Fixing Hanover,” a creator must turn his back on his creation because it is so utterly destructive. And Cherie Priest presents “The Clockroach,” a new and very unsettling mode of transportation.
Going far beyond corsets and goggles, Steampunk Revolution is not just your granddad’s zeppelin—it’s an even wilder ride.
carpentry—the quartz, the wax, the dopstick, the grinding plate, the copper and amber, these are my materials, Nahla! These and my mind. I don’t know how this happened, it is impossible—” “That I should be in your mind?” “That I, or anyone else, should be in yours. You aren’t a material, you were only an image—it was never you, it couldn’t have been, it was only—” “Your longing,” Nahla said, flatly. “Your wanting of me.” “Yes.” Silence between them, then a long-drawn breath. “You believe me?”
auto-kris, before stooping down to light both sets of rockets. “Good lu—” The roar of the gunpowder igniting beneath Clarita’s feet drowned out the rest of Nur’s words. Clarita swayed, struggling to keep her balance as the sled thundered forward, then up the prepared incline. At the height of the upward arc, the sled fell away from beneath her and Clarita was standing on nothing but air, working the levers desperately as she prayed: Let it be enough, let it be enough…! She let out a shout of
The hunter’s breath left him with a great foosh and he sat on the ground, still holding his gun, legs stretched before him in the high grass. Claire drew back and held the burled cane high in the air, as if to bring it down on Wakeman’s head. He looked up at her quizzically, struggling to draw breath, without the presence of mind to swivel the muzzle of the weapon toward her. But he would, any second. Ian grasped Claire’s arm. “Claire,” he said. “No.” She looked at him, eyes wild and
I’ve experimented with a hundred different connections. I’ve even identified Hanover’s independent power source and recharged it using a hand-cranked generator. Lady Salt has gone out with the fishing fleet for the first time and the village is deserted. Even Blake has gone with her, after a quick threat in my direction once again. If the fishing doesn’t go well, the evening will not go any better for me. Shyver says, “Is that a spark?” A spark? “Where?” I have just put Hanover back together
Alexandria Immanent’s place,” Gast said. “She has what I want. You’re going to get it for me.” Gast paused to sip from a tall blue drink, then continued, jowls wobbling with enthusiasm. “In three nights’ time a rundown tenement will be passing the House of Immanent. Your crew will be in it, disguised as a salvage gang. You enter the house, grab the prize, and smash things up on your way out. Poor Alexandria’s agents will spend months hunting for her art in the salvage slums. If they ever