Year's Best SF 5
Experience New Realms
Acclaimed editor and anthologist David G. Hartwell returns with this fifth annual collection of the year's most imaginative, entertaining, and mind-expanding science fiction.
Here are works from some of today's most acclaimed authors, as well as visionary new talents, that will introduce you to new ideas, offer unusual perspectives, and take you to places beyond your wildest imaginings. Contributors to The Year's Best SF 5 include:
Kim Stanley Robinson
and many more...
Dawne has already armed herself. I obviously can't tell you more than that. But I can tell you she will fight if Ari tries to take control of the communications module. She is already emotionally committed to fighting.” Miniruta smiled. “Is that an informative response? Will that give Ari some evidence he should modify his assumptions?” Morgan returned to his apartment and had his fabrication unit manufacture two sets of unarmed probes. The probes were large, cumbersome devices, about the
worms,” I told him. “They leave me little for my own plate. In essence, I'm a sharecropper for the biosphere. Repopulation's put Homo sapiens back in place, but the little guys still have a way to go. You really ought to wear a hat on days like this.” “It's not necessary in these latitudes,” he assured me, missing the point again. “You're right, of course. Nobody cares about the extra launches. Nobody will mention it, least of all when you're on view. All we're interested in is selling the
not. It's driving me up the wall. And on top of that she cries. Sobbing all the time. No tears, though.” Yamashita's workmanship on Princess Colleen was woeful. Colleen's skin was rough to the touch and the paint hadn't taken well. Yasuko wondered if Yamashita had slacked off on the polishing. The princess's costume was very elegant with lush draping, but Yamashita had simply covered it with heavy layers of blue paint—a harsh primary colour—and in some places it had spilled over onto her skin.
Celat?” and he looked rueful: “Love. Or a potion. Or perhaps both.” Idris: [sarcastic] Men are such romantics. I said: “And you've stayed here?”—looking pointedly around the Scavengers' mess. He said: “I mediate when Idye and Iain get into trouble.” “Like now?” I said. He sighed. “This wasn't my idea. But as a challenge, I find it—seductive.” “As opposed to rape?” He said, lightly: “You know that is the last resort.” I must have gone white, for he added: “But that would mean I'd failed.
one. At some higher level, we are all simply different manifestations of that same consciousness. The brain therefore is not consciousness, does not create consciousness, but is rather an instrument that tunes into that universal consciousness, each brain in a different way. What follows is that when the body dies, the consciousness is not destroyed. It's let go. So if we create an intelligent, self-aware entity that thinks as Richard thought, feels as Richard felt, knows what Richard knew,