The Year's Best Science Fiction: 29th Annual Collection

The Year's Best Science Fiction: 29th Annual Collection

Language: English

Pages: 625

ISBN: 2:00085126

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

In the new millennium, what secrets lay beyond the far reaches of the universe? What mysteries belie the truths we once held to be self evident? The world of science fiction has long been a porthole into the realities of tomorrow, blurring the line between life and art. Now, in The Year’s Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Ninth Annual Collection the very best SF authors explore ideas of a new world. This venerable collection brings together short stories from award winning authors and masters of the field such as Robert Reed, Alastair Reynolds, Damien Broderick, Elizabeth Bear, Paul McAuley and John Barnes. And with an extensive recommended reading guide and a summation of the year in science fiction, this annual compilation has become the definitive must-read anthology for all science fiction fans and readers interested in breaking into the genre.

The Apex Book of World SF: Volume 1

Reincarnation and the Law of Karma

Écrits libertaires (1948-1960)

Man Vs Machine

Future On Ice

















you be called something more terrible than that? But I’ll call you Bess if you want…” “Do you have a name?” “I’m Elli.” The smirk faded. “I think I am anyway.” “You only think? Don’t you know who you are?” “Well, I’m me, aren’t I?” The creature—although Bess now felt that she could safely assume that she was merely female and human, and not some monstrous anomaly or djinn—glanced down at her grubby, near-naked self. “Names are just things other people give you, aren’t they? Or just plain make

for one more day. You should be satisfied with this.” “Fine,” Ellis said, although he was obviously displeased. “I’ll do what I can.” The two scientists went their separate ways. A few minutes later, when the filtering process was complete, Gary unscrewed a set of steel plates and used tweezers to fish out the filters inside. Each filter, the size of a vinyl record album, had been stained various shades of brown, as the microbes were captured in paper of decreasing porousness. “I’m sorry you

In response to the nudge, Ray swiveled around in his chair, although the motion was due solely to momentum. His eyes were open, and his head was tilted at an unnatural angle. A gash had parted the skin of his throat, the blood running down the front of his shirt and pooling on the floor below, where it blended with the burgundy rug. Trip was not a doctor, and had no firsthand experience of murder, but even at first glance, it was clear that Ray was quite dead. II The captain was the first to

live or I don’t. There is no certainty, but there never is.” “It doesn’t distress you?” “Of course it does. I love and I hate this bridge of yours. I will pine for the mist, for the need to cross it. But I do not want to be part of a family that all die young, without even a corpse for the burning. If I have a child, she will not need to make the decision I did: to cross the mist and die, or to stay safe on one side of the world, and never see the other. She will lose something. She will gain

most vociferous proponent? An attempt that, whether it succeeded or failed, would win Angus what Maartens had—in a double or triple bluff—called the sympathy vote. Angus’s racing suspicions were interrupted by a ringing in his ear. He flicked his earlobe. “A moment, please,” he said. He stood up, stepped apologetically past the delegate between him and the aisle, and turned away to face the wall. “Yes?” It was the investigator who’d spoken to him last night. She was standing on a beach, near

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