Flint Eric
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Страница автора Flint Eric, произведения и биография.
Страница автора Flint Eric, произведения и биография.
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| The Chick Is In The Mail | Фэнтези |  | Отрывок из книги - The Chick Is In The Mail "Suppose you call Miss Primula, then." "She said don't bother her," the nine-year-old said. "She's busy." Sergeant Heath strolled up behind the other sergeants, also resplendent in dress blue. "What's going on here? Why are you fellows blocking the door?" "They don't have invitations!" clashed with "This child won't let us in, and we're sergeants ." "Decided not to invite you lot this year, eh?" Sergeant Heath smiled unctuously at the child, and reached past Sergeant Gorse to hand over his card. "Remember your antics last year, do they? That bit with the tropical fruit surprise not quite so funny on second thought?" He strolled through, exuding virtue. The others glared after him, then at Sergeant Gorse. "It wasn't my fault," Sergeant Gorse said. "It was really Corporal Nitley, and I know he got an invitation." He looked around and spotted a familiar figure hurrying along the street. "She'll take care of this," he said confidently. She was, after all, in his unit. * * * Mirabel Stonefist … | |
| Changer of Worlds | Научная фантастика | 2001 | | Отрывок из книги - Changer of Worlds He paused, and she nodded respectfully. "Perhaps you can start off then by telling me – briefly, of course – just why you joined the Service," he invited. "For several reasons, Sir," she said after only the briefest of pauses. "My father was a Navy doctor before he retired and went into private practice, so I was a 'Navy brat' until I was about eleven. And I've always been interested in naval history, clear back to pre-Diaspora Earth. But I suppose the most important reason was the People's Republic, Sir." "Indeed?" Layson couldn't quite keep the surprise out of his tone. "Yes, Sir." Her voice was both respectful and thoughtful, but it was also very serious. "I believe war with Haven is inevitable, Sir. Not immediately, but in time." "And you want to be along for the glory and the adventure, do you?" "No, Sir." Her expression didn't alter, despite the bite in his question. "I want to help defend the Star Kingdom. And I don't want to live under the Peeps." "I see," he said, and studied … |
| The Warmasters | Научная фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - The Warmasters He paused, and she nodded respectfully. "Perhaps you can start off then by telling me -- briefly, of course -- just why you joined the Service," he invited. "For several reasons, Sir," she said after only the briefest of pauses. "My father was a Navy doctor before he retired and went into private practice, so I was a 'Navy brat' until I was about eleven. And I've always been interested in naval history, clear back to pre-Diaspora Earth. But I suppose the most important reason was the People's Republic, Sir." "Indeed?" Layson couldn't quite keep the surprise out of his tone. "Yes, Sir." Her voice was both respectful and thoughtful, but it was also very serious. "I believe war with Haven is inevitable, Sir. Not immediately, but in time." "And you want to be along for the glory and the adventure, do you?" "No, Sir." Her expression didn't alter, despite the bite in his question. "I want to help defend the Star Kingdom. And I don't want to live under the Peeps." "I see," he said, and studied … | |
| 1632 | Космическая фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - 1632 Again, Tom puffed out his cheeks and, again, blew out a slow breath. He seemed on the verge of saying something, but a motion caught his eye. His brand-new wife was approaching, with people in tow. Tom was suddenly beaming like a child. Watching that glowing smile, Mike felt his own heart warming. Hell of a sweet kid, to come from such cruddy parents. Rita arrived with her usual thermonuclear energy. She started by embracing her new husband in a manner that was wildly inappropriate in a high-school cafeteria-springing onto him and wrapping both legs around his thighs. Wedding dress be damned. A fierce and decidedly unvirginal kiss accompanied the semi-lascivious embrace. Then, bouncing off, she gave Mike a hug which, though it lacked the sexual overtones, was almost as vigorous. The preliminaries done, Rita spun around and waved forward the two people lagging behind her. Outside of the accompanying grin, the gesture resembled an empress summoning her lackeys. Sharon was grinning herself. … | |
| 1633 | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - 1633 Rebecca practically clamped her jaws shut. Her instincts were to shriek argument in response. Yes? And the current devastation which you have unleashed on Germany? The Thirty Years War will kill more Germans than either world war of the 20th century! Not to mention the millions of children who die in your precious aristocratic world every year from hunger, disease and deprivation-even during peacetime-all of which can be quickly remedied! But she remained true to her husband's advice. There was no point in arguing with Richelieu. He was not advancing a hypothesis to be tested, here. He was simply letting the envoy from the United States know that the conflict was not over, and would not be over, until one or the other side triumphed. For all the charm, and civility, and the serenity of the smile, Richelieu was issuing a declaration of war. And, indeed, his next words: "So it all now seems clear to me. Yes, God created the Ring of Fire. Absurd to label such a miraculous event a thing of … | |
| 1635: The Eastern Front | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - 1635: The Eastern Front Wilhelm Kuefer had participated in many fights under Kresse's command. He knew Georg would launch a savage assault on the deserter camp just as dawn was breaking. Then, as the panicked band of mercenaries tried to escape, he would harry them relentlessly-always keeping them to the road and not letting them veer off into the countryside. The road would seem like the safest escape route, anyway. So, they'd follow it for two hours after the initial assault-well over six miles of a mountain "road" that was more in the way of a trail for pasturing cows. By the time they arrived at the ambush site where Kuefer and his cannon and militiamen were waiting, they'd be exhausted as well as terrified. When the first deserters appeared around the bend, the militiamen began shooting them down. But, at Kuefer's prior orders, only a handful of them were firing, their best marksmen, and they were not firing volleys. Their fire was deadly because of its accuracy, but it wouldn't seem to the deserters that … | |
| 1634: The Baltic War | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - 1634: The Baltic War Jesse had kept trying, even to the point of resigning as a partner in the aircraft firm, but it hadn't been enough. The powers-that-be, in their wisdom, had seen fit to authorize assistance to both firms in the form of "a suitable building, strategic materials, and such labor and facilities as are deemed necessary by the strategic resources board for aircraft construction." And so, while Hal and his workers had used the assistance to move construction of the "Gustav" model into high gear, the Kelly Aircraft Company had moved into their new digs-and, so far at least, had shown precious little for it. But it was a done deal, so Jesse let it go. He turned his attention to the aircraft shelters he was passing, five completed now and one in progress. Three had aircraft in them, a Belle and two of the new Gustavs, low wing, powerful looking birds. Their ground crews were still working on them in the lowering sunlight, busy, purposeful. The Belle ground crew was fueling their aircraft from a … | |
| Ring of fire II | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Ring of fire II "Aye, all of them have rifles-flintlock muskets. Pistols, too. Even the camp is laid out strangely." The slightest of rustling noises behind him caught Wilf's attention. He turned his head and saw it was Sam O'Reilly crawling cautiously up the slope. Slithering into place beside Christian, Sam held a hand out for the binoculars. The previous night, when Reichard had returned from his scout, Sam O'Reilly and Klaus Goltz had been with him. "Found them messing about in the woods, making enough noise to frighten a deaf old woman. I thought it better to bring them here than have them blunder into our new friends," was all Reichard said. O'Reilly and Klaus had explained that they were tracking a group of horse thieves who had hit a village near Grantville. "Looks like the bastards got ahold of an old U.S. Cavalry manual," Sam whispered. "Damn camp is laid out like something from the Civil War. Even got themselves uniforms." "Yes," Reichard replied softly. "You are right. This camp does have … | |
| 1634: The Bavarian Crisis | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - 1634: The Bavarian Crisis After the introductory measures, the hairs on Archduchess Maria Anna's arms stood up. Halfway through, the hairs on her head were trying to do the same. For the sheer glory of the thing! Throughout her afternoon eucharistic devotions before the reserved Host, the melody continued to replay itself in her head. Perhaps a bit guiltily, she assured herself that it was, after all, a hymn. **** "I want to know," Maria Anna said firmly to Father Wilhelm Lamormaini, S.J., her father's confessor. "It is a reasonable question." "How can you expect me to find out?" "There are Jesuits in this Grantville. Write them. Ask them. Do these words in English, set to this music by Haydn, this Te Deum, mean that in those later days, England had been returned to the fold of the Church? And, if so, how? When? By whom? Through what means? And, if not, why was this man writing a Te Deum in English? Using Austrian music?" Father Lamormaini looked at the archduchess rather cautiously. He understood the political … | |
| 1635: The Cannon Law | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - 1635: The Cannon Law Ezquerra made the little hiss-spit noise he had for the occasions when he was annoyed by something. Don Vincente had only heard it before when something the men had done when practicing their drill displeased him. "I don't think the rules apply to such as him," he said, after a quiet moment. "You or I, Don Vincente, we face the Inquisition if we disobey a priest. The cardinal? He can disobey the pope and no one can tell him different." "True," Don Vincente said, and it was. Not least because Borja was one of the Inquisition's senior cardinals. "Still, I want the men mustered for musket drill tomorrow, and every day until Gonzalez calms down. I don't know what the other companies will do, but I think training the men might well stop them finding idler pursuits until we have real trouble to deal with." "The men won't like it, Don Vincente." Ezquerra's tone betrayed how little he cared about that. The man was a veteran, and had himself walked the Spanish Road to the wars in Flanders. Don … | |
| 1635:The Dreeson Incident | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - 1635:The Dreeson Incident Are you planning to do anything about it, man? Ron thought sourly. Like maybe try to end the war? Or do you just plan to complain and complain and complain? "Gently born?" Ron asked Artemisia Gentileschi. "Is the guy noble?" "No." She twisted her lips. "Joachim is far more gently born than I, to be sure. The family was Walloon, certainly one of the more prominent commoner lineages in Hainaut. His father was-is, if he is still alive, but I haven't heard recently-a merchant. Very wealthy, but still a merchant. His mother was from a merchant family, also. Joachim's a cousin of Michel le Blon. Still, even in Frankfurt Laurentius Sandrart achieved some status. Certainly among the Walloons, if not among the native-born. Even though he was an immigrant into a city where the Lutheran council does not precisely make Calvinists welcome-they refused to grant permanent resident to Sebastian Stoskopff, which is why he went to Paris when he left Hanau. "However, I'm sure that Joachim would not object … | |
| The Wallenstein Gambit | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - The Wallenstein Gambit Watching Tanner, Ellie Anderson almost laughed. Something in the little twitches Len was making with his lips made it clear that he'd have been chewing on his huge mustache, if he still had one. But, he didn't-and wouldn't, as long as Ellie had anything to say about it. However many of Len Tanner's quirks and foibles she'd grown accustomed to and decided she could live with, that damned walrus mustache was not one of them. She preferred her men clean-shaven and always had, a quirk of her own she suspected came from memories of a great bearded lout of a father. Dim memories. He'd been killed in a car wreck when she was only seven years old, caused by a drunk driver. Him. It was a one-car accident and the only other casualty had been the oak tree at the sharp bend in the road near their house. Fortunately, the oak tree had survived. Ellie's memories of the oak tree were a lot more extensive, and a lot fonder, than those of her father. Years later, she'd even built a treefort in it. The neighbors … | |
| Mother of Demons | Научная фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - Mother of Demons But while she was among them, Nukurren had been careful to observe the proprieties. She had even learned some of the strange language spoken by the hunnakaku. For the Kiktu believed that the sub-gukuy were sacred. They called the hunnakaku the Old Ones, and believed that they were the first people created by their goddess Uk when she rained life upon the Meat. They were favored still in her eyes, the Kiktu believed, and their language was difficult to understand because it was holy. All Kiktu learned to speak it-at least, as well as was possible for gukuy. So Nukurren listened. The hunnakaku hooted again. must not do feed reeds snails beauty With difficulty, Nukurren translated. The speaking siphon of the hunnakaku, she knew, was fairly similar to that possessed by gukuy. But there were important differences. The hunnakaku lacked the flexible lips and the hard ridges which enabled gukuy to speak their complex languages. Instead, the hunnakaku produced a hoot which contained a single thought … | |
| The Sorceress of Karres | Космическая фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - The Sorceress of Karres "The Chaladoor," said Threbus, referring to a dangerous and mysterious region of space, the lair of pirates, the Megair Cannibals-and at one time of Manaret and the Nuri globes lurking within the Tark Nembi cluster of dead suns and interstellar dust and debris. "Oh?" said Captain Pausert warily. He'd survived one crossing of Chaladoor. Admittedly, he'd been in more danger from those inside his ship-spies and the notorious Agandar-than from forces outside it. "There is something going on in that area of space. Since Manaret was destroyed, quite a few ships have risked the crossing. And none of them have made it. The Daal of Uldune has also thought to expand his power in that direction. But he has been repulsed." Pausert raised his eyebrows. He knew the hexaperson that was the cloned and telepathic ruler of the one-time pirate world rather well. Sedmon the Sixth was not a trivial foe. The Empire still trod warily around him, and the forces at his command. Whatever the danger was that lurked … | |
| 1634: The Ram Rebellion | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - 1634: The Ram Rebellion Edgar’s explanation wasn’t any too clear, but Birdie got the gist of it. Willie Ray might have to ask the farmers to do things that weren’t that profitable in the short run. Things like building up seed stock. Birdie, like many farmers, bought seed every year, instead of saving his own. Saving your own seed hadn’t made much sense up-time. “What it boils down to, is the bank is going to cut all the farmers some slack. Considering the circumstances, what with the Ring of Fire and all, we’re giving you a year to get caught up.” Birdie was pretty sure that Edgar wasn’t telling him everything. Bankers always acted like it was their own money you were asking them for. “Suppose I need some more money? Bank gonna be good for that? There’s a lot that needs doing, and it ain’t getting done for nothing.” “We might loan you more money, Mr. Newhouse. If Willie Ray agrees that what you need it for is important to the town, it’s more than likely that you’ll get what you need.” All this support came as … | |
| Grantville Gazette Volume 24 | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette Volume 24 We looked for another few minutes before I found a smashed bullet. "Take a look," I said, holding it in my hand. "It was a round ball, wasn't it." "Right," I said. Not with a flat bottom, like your rifles shoot, but it was shot from a rifle, you can see the grooves. We're looking for a downtime marksman, I think, perhaps a jager." "Yayger?" he asked, while I pocketed the ball and a few pieces of shattered insulator. "Professional hunter," I said. "They usually use good rifled guns." The area under the scars on the side of the powerplant was weedy, there was no hope of finding a bullet there, but standing under the scars on the side of the building and sighting back through the switchyard toward the refugee camp, it was obvious where the shots had come from. "Want me to go with you?" Tom asked, as we stared at the building the shooter must have used. "That would be nice. Back through the main gate?" "Faster through the west gate," he said. "The railroad used to go out that way, before they … | |
| Grantville Gazette.Volume VII | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette.Volume VII There was a moment of quiet. John shook his head. "It isn't Mike Stearn's fault. Gayle Mason is the best QRP CW operator in the world. I agreed that she had to go to London. But that means that the best source of knowledge about radio tubes is hundreds of miles away." Father Athanasius picked up John's mug, and waved at a waitress. "It isn't Morris Roth's fault that every jeweler in the world wants to be near the world's only source of knowledge about faceted gems. But that means that the people with skills in working with very small wires and parts that I need don't come to Grantville anymore. "It isn't my fault that I have an associate's degree in business, not a masters in electronic engineering. I'm the best available for running VOA, but I don't know the background of the history and development of radio. No one in Grantville does." The waitress arrived with two fresh mugs. John took his without even noticing it. "It's nobody's fault. But you put it all together, and Murphy has arranged … | |
| Grantville Gazette.Volume XIX | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette.Volume XIX "Or a need so great that it is too great to be met," said Piccolomini. "But, yes, in times past you'd have been quite correct. But the times we live in today are ones in which the nature of things is changing. Quite rapidly, sometimes." The waiter returned, bringing two hot cups of coffee. Piccolomini waited until he was gone, and then picked up his cup and leaned back in his chair. Still speaking rather softly, he said: "Well, then. Let's savor our coffees, and then I'll take you to meet someone." "Roth?" Piccolomini shook his head. "No, Roth himself is in Prague, so far as I know. The man I'll be taking you to is one of his agents. Uriel Abrabanel, of the famous clan by that name." The Italian blew on his coffee. "Famous among Sephardim, anyway." Quite famous, in fact. The Jewish shoemaker whom Franz had known in his youth had once told him, very proudly, that he himself was-admittedly, rather distantly-related to the Abrabanels. Von Mercy's grin was probably on the vulpine side also. … | |
| Grantville Gazette. Volume 21 | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette. Volume 21 In 1604, toward the start of the war with Sweden, the Polish Sejm-not for the first time-neglected to raise the funds to pay its soldiers in Livonia. What followed was one of the so-called konfederacja, which were a peculiarly Polish tradition in which what amounted to a mutiny received semi-official status and quasi-legitimacy. Lisowski had been one of the ringleaders. This konfederacja had been more brutal than most. The mutineers decided to recompense themselves by plundering and savaging the local civilians-not caring in the least that many of the civilians in question were Polish subjects. The official response to the mutiny was ineffectual, as was so often true, and not long thereafter Lisowski and his supporters joined the rokosz of Mikolaj Zebrzydowski, also known as the Sandomierz Rebellion. A rokosz was another peculiarly Polish institution. What amounted to a rebellion-and would have been regarded as outright treason in most realms-was given semi-official recognition in the … | |
| Grantville Gazette.Volume 22 | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette.Volume 22 "Hence, I was able to feed the remains of the third course to the family dog, and he seemed none the worse for the experience." Clearly, thought Lewis, animal rights have yet too make much headway in early modern Italy. "That quieted my concerns for a time. But the next day, Pietro's skin became cold and clammy, his pulse weakened, and at last he died." "Were his wife and children present? How did they react to his death?" asked Ferdinand sharply. "The wife and children seemed properly remorseful." He spread his hands. "There is not much left to say. He passed from my care to that of Our Lord and Savior." Ferdinand gripped Lewis' shoulder, then released it. "In view of the allegations of poisoning, I thought it appropriate to call upon my 'Consulting Detective.' Don't disappoint me." "Don't forget what I said about keeping your mind open as to whom the target might have been," Cioli added, softly. "Well, there are a few options. I can do a Marsh test for arsenic on the remaining food." … | |
| Grantville Gazette Volume XI | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette Volume XI Frank stood up, his hands crossed behind his back. "But in spite of that. I'm the general of this piss-poor army, and the worst thing that I can do is not back up civilian control. Not back up the rule of law. The fact is that according to the laws, Blumroder could do what he did." P.H. Johnson nodded. "I know. Even my own son Pat was looking the other way. He said as much in one of his letters to me." Frank started pacing. "Mike authorized Anse and Noelle. They did what they had to. Horton and von Dantz were being a couple of cowboys leading a lynch mob, the way Anse saw it. A real nasty lynch mob. Not to mention that Horton had pretty much just sat on his hands until von Dantz got to Suhl, so he was probably letting himself be used. As far as the army is concerned, Horton was killed while resisting lawful orders and that's got to be an end to it. I'm not going to have my guys, when they get into a shooting situation, worrying about whether I'm going to back them up. Or not back them … | |
| Grantville Gazette.Volume IX | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette.Volume IX "A need?" "If, for example, there were some need for the archbishop to ensure the preparation of literature in such a city as Magdeburg, or if a partisan of the emperor who is residing in Nuernberg might need discreet access to a way to provide information to the people. I call it," Vignelli said proudly, "a 'duplicating machine.'" News of the Day Frankfurt am Main, March 1633 Martin delivered the bags he was carrying, saw to the stabling of his horse, and picked up the latest newspaper, fresh off the presses. Originally it had appeared weekly, but it came out twice a week now. You could buy it in every post office in Europe, of course, even those outside the CPE, but you got it first in Frankfurt, since that was where it was printed. He stood there, looking absent-mindedly at the sales rack. There were a lot of other newspapers, of course. You could buy those at the Frankfurt post office, too. Nuernberg, Augsburg, and Leipzig. Berlin, even. Since the beginning, since the day a baby avisa … | |
| Grantville Gazette.Volume XII | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette.Volume XII Most of the Jews lived in the larger towns and were engaged in a wide range of mercantile and even manufacturing activities. The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth did not maintain in practice the same tight restrictions on Jewish activity that most realms in Europe did. Unfortunately, a number of them had also moved out into rural areas. "Unfortunately," from Morris' viewpoint, because these Jews did not spread into the countryside as farmers. Instead, they spread as rent-collectors and overseers of the large landed estates maintained by mostly-absentee Polish magnates. They were universally hated by the Ruthenian peasantry-who, in the nature of things, did not make any fine distinctions between the small class of Jews who oppressed them and the great majority of the Jewish populations in the towns who were simply going about their business. Wallenstein's shrewdness was evident wherever Morris looked on the map. He proposed to seize Lvov, for instance, but did not propose to take Krakow. … | |
| Grantville Gazette.Volume XIII | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette.Volume XIII She went back to finger-counting. "Third, get the Brethren involved. Fourth-whatever else you do-make sure Red Sybolt's involved." The thumb got wiggled now. "Fifth-maybe this should actually be first-establish contact with some Polish radicals." She gave Melissa a querying glance. "I assume there are some in the here and now, yes?" Melissa made a face. "Hell, my knowledge of Polish history is only general, it doesn't run to details like that. But… I'd say there pretty much have to be. Poland produced almost as many radicals and revolutionaries over the centuries as it did grain and layabout noblemen. For that matter, the nobility itself produced a fair number of them. Remember Count Casimir Pulaski, in the American revolution?" James looked startled. "Is that who Pulaski Boulevard in Chicago is named after?" "Doctors," scoffed Melissa. "Talk about a self-absorbed class of people. Yes, dear, that is who one of your home town's main streets is named after. But don't get a swelled head about … | |
| Grantville Gazette.Volume XV | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette.Volume XV So. If she was right, that meant that Red thought there was a lot more substance to Zaborowsky than to his companion. Which wouldn't surprise Melissa at all, since that was her assessment also. Those calculations didn't take more than a few seconds, by which time they were all seated in the comfortable chairs and divans in the salon. All except James, that is. He was still standing in the entryway that connected the salon with the bedchamber. Red flashed him a grin. "Hey, you're welcome to join us, James." "Just a country doctor, remember?" "Oh, cut it out." Red jabbed a thumb at Melissa. "I know damn well she'll tell you anything important, anyway. And leaving aside the 'country' bullshit, you're a black doctor from one of Chicago's ghettoes, not some jerk MD who grew up in a gated community and thinks manicured lawns are a natural growth." James smiled thinly. "True. But I spent no time at all meddling with black power ghetto politics in my youth, neither. Went straight from honest crime … | |
| Grantville Gazette .Volume XXIII | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette .Volume XXIII Game, Set and Match Kim Mackey London When George Goring entered the study, his father-in-law was seated behind his desk and focused on the paperwork in front of him. George waited a few seconds and then cleared his throat. Richard Boyle, Earl of Corke, and now the King's chief Minister in all but name, looked up and smiled at him. "George, so good of you to come on such short notice. How is Lettice?" George cleared his throat again. Damn it, stop being nervous. Yes, Richard Boyle has power now to go along with his riches. But you've treated Lettice well. Mostly. "As well as can be expected, Your Lordship, given her health. She is off to Bath again with her cousin, Joan Gwyn." "Ah," Boyle said. "And Grey Brown?" George winced. In 1631, he had become bored with life on the Boyle estates in Ireland and had borrowed two thousand pounds. Then ridden off to seek adventure in Scotland and England, leaving his new wife in her father's care. The choice grey gelding he left with had been called … | |
| Grantville Gazette.Volume XVI | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette.Volume XVI "We'll check out the village, spend tonight under cover, and head home tomorrow. If we push and the weather holds we'll be back in Grantville by Wednesday." Reichard's share of the fried salt pork disappeared in two large bites and he continued, "We can report to Major Stieff and be done with our militia duty for another year." A broad grin split the big man's face. *** The men exchanged puzzled looks. They were just coming into the village of Oberschwartzwald, past a pair of half-ruined barns. Ahead they could hear a man yelling. "Sounds like someone is calling someone else a 'dirty little thief,'" commented Dieter. "Aye, and I think I know that voice," Reichard said. "If it is him, he dies today." Suiting actions to words the big man reached down and pulled his rifle from its scabbard. "Yes, and any of the mangy crew he runs with," Wilf added in agreement as he also readied his rifle. "That pastor last night had the right of it-devils in disguise." "Who are you talking about? Do you … | |
| Slow Train to Arcturus | Космическая фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - Slow Train to Arcturus "A very good point," admitted Kretz. The team had set up the laser-video links, before retreating on the Miran spacecraft. Kretz had had the frisson of knowing they would forever be the first Miran males who had finally penetrated an alien spacecraft. That laser relays would have those pictures on datafiles back home. He'd also had the fear of walking into an alien airlock, and the knowledge that Selna was furious with him. Abret painstakingly checked the atmosphere being pumped into the airlock. "We'd breathe this and live, you know," he said, looking at the readouts again. "More nitrogen and less carbon dioxide than we're used to. Traces of methane. And sulphur compounds… But the oxygen level is tolerable." "Sorpon's prediction on the environmental requirement for intelligent life comes true," Kretz said regretfully, pausing in the setup of the radio repeater. "I'd have preferred you to prove him wrong, as I always thought his premises for the evolution of intelligence were simply too … | |
| TITLE: Grantville Gazette.Volume XVIII | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - TITLE: Grantville Gazette.Volume XVIII "Look, you want him, fine. Maybe you can keep him out of everyone's hair. Okay? Case closed. It's probably moot. Julie wants a piece of him. Steve is annoyed with the boy. That toy he had, that crossbow, put a steel tipped bolt…" "He made it." "That's the point. He should be in school, not making crossbows. Gifted child or not, he has to be like everyone else." "Do you listen to yourself?" Allan asked quietly. "I mean, really listen. Blaise isn't a theoretical 'gifted' child. The mentally-challenged need someone who knows mental challenges. Leave them with Owen. He likes them and does a fair job with them. He is so far out of his depth with Blaise or kids like him that it is almost funny. I want Mary and Jacqueline too." "You are not…" "We are not in West Virginia anymore." "That is no excuse for… " Allan placed a piece of crumpled and bruised paper over the picture in the book. "What's this? Your resignation? His suicide note?" "The boy you want to be like everyone else was trying to … | |
| Grantville Gazette. Volume XX | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette. Volume XX His gaze slid away then he forced it back. "No," Johann said. "That is what part of the mess is from. I fought to save what I had." Bertha sniffed. "He's ruined." Annabet sent her an angry look. "That's very helpful of you." She considered the blotches on the floor. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will think more clearly. Today, we will clean this up." Johann crossed his arms, trying to look as forbidding as their father. "No. You will stay out of this!" Annabet just looked at him. "You are not Papa to order me around. You are not my betrothed, either. You are just my baby brother, and you need help." A tear slid out of the corner of her eye. "I need something to work toward, something to hope for." She took a deep breath. "Please?" Johann swore. "Fine." He uncrossed his arms and went back to work. Bertha just patted him on the shoulder as she went to look for a mop. "You're a good boy. Stupid, but good." *** Annabet met Johann when he came home the next night. He had no more bruises, but he did … | |
| Grantville Gazette.Volume XVII | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - Grantville Gazette.Volume XVII Jozef laughed. "How should I know? I'm just a bastard, not an honest workingman. But at a guess, I'd say…" He gave his friend yet another sideways glance, this one quite sly. "I'd say not. After all, you have lots of calluses on your soul and they don't hurt, do they?" Lukasz called him a very unfavorable term in Lithuanian. Jozef grinned. "I have the most marvelous American expression." After he spoke it a few times, Lukasz began practicing the pronunciation. "Modderfooker… mudder-yes, it is nice." The Anaconda Project, Episode Six Written by Eric Flint When Jozef finished with his presentation, the immediate reaction of his two listeners was about what he'd expected. Silence. Total, complete silence. After a few seconds, Lukasz Opalinski sighed faintly and leaned back a little further in his heavily-upholstered armchair. He gave the big hetman sitting to his left a glance that was just short of apprehensive. For his part, Koniecpolski's expression might have been that of a statue. Josef … | |
| Threshold | Космическая фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - Threshold "I'm okay, Joe. I… I just don't want to go. Even with you." "We don't have to. You can stay here. I know Ares isn't exactly in the best shape, but we don't have to leave just because you're not working here." That's true, she thought with a sudden moment of wonder and fear. She stared at Joe. "I don'thave to work for the HIA?" Joe knew why she phrased it as a question. "No. You don't have to go back and push papers. You can stay here-at least as long as Ares manages to keep operations running." He studied her sympathetically. "But I know it might be hard to do that with some other guy trying to play super-security man." She managed a slight laugh. "Oh, I think it would be at least as hard for my replacement, whoever he is. Remember, I happen to have a rather inflated reputation." She tried to sit next to Joe with her usual relaxed intimacy, but despite all her years of discipline and training, she suspected Joe could sense her tension. She wondered if this was what a zoo animal would feel … | |
| Time spike | Фэнтези | | Отрывок из книги - Time spike Hulbert got to his feet. "I would stay if I could, Andy. But the office would shit a brick." "That's okay." Andy glanced at Joe. "I hate for you to stay…" "I know. But I would expect you to stick around if the situation was reversed. Just let me go to the car and get a fresh pair of socks and a couple bottles of water. What did you bring for supper?" "Barbeque chicken, salad, and a couple of pears. There's enough for the two of us." Rod dropped his lunch bucket onto the table and flipped it open. "I didn't get a chance to eat. Two sardine sandwiches, a bag of chips, a packet of cookies and a diet Coke." "Jeez, Hulbert, no wonder you're so damn scrawny! That stuff will kill you." Joe closed the lid to the bucket and handed it back to the man. "Take it home and feed it to the garbage can." "Okay, but by about four-thirty, you'll be wishing you had it." "I don't think so." Joe was laughing now. "Maybe we can feed that shit to the prisoners until someone squeals on who hit the Martinez kid. … | |
| Pyramid Power | Фэнтези | | Отрывок из книги - Pyramid Power Not only had they cut her off from Mac, but they'd cut her off from a Colophonian girl's best friend-especially one who used to be a spider-bodied woman: the World Wide Web in general, and electronic stock trading in specific. Oh, and the other thing was that Medea kept dusting for spiderwebs. It was a good thing that no one had trained the princess in the art of actually doing her own housekeeping. This morning she had given the vacuum cleaner a good beating for not doing a proper job. Arachne couldn't help noticing that it was more conscientious and respectful afterward than her own vacuum cleaner had been. But even cut off from telephones and her laptop, and even if she wasn't spider-bodied any more, Arachne could still pull strings. Her web weaving started with a cup of coffee for the hapless agent watching them. Medea had berated him for being in the way and Priones, the four-year-old, was practicing his lunges with a small wooden sword. Information is any girl's next best friend, … | |
Assiti Shards | ||||
| 1636:The Saxon Uprising | Научная фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - 1636:The Saxon Uprising Armies could only pass through even low mountains by following what few natural routes existed. In this eastern portion of the Erzgebirge, that meant following the Elbe, the same river that was dominated by Tetschen here. Tetschen's second great advantage was that it was a relatively large town. Not a city, certainly. But it was very far from a country village, too. It was large enough to provide a base for a regiment, without requiring constant foraging in the countryside. "Foraging" was military-speak for requisitioning supplies by methods which were often nothing more than legalized plunder. Given that the lands said regiment would be plundering were Czech lands ruled by the very same Wallenstein that Mike and his Third Division had been sent to support, that could get very dicey, very quickly. But with a town the size of Tetschen, Mike was pretty sure that one of his regiments would be able to get its supplies without overly aggravating the area's residents. That was especially true … | |
Boundary | ||||
| Boundary | Космическая фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - Boundary In fact, he even came out himself, three days later. By then, Helen, Joe, and Jackie had been joined by Carol Danvers and Bill Ishihara, the other members of Helen's team. Three days of careful digging had uncovered the entire lower half of the fossil. And, in the process, they had found the leg bone of another velociraptor underneath it, the body apparently extending off to the side of the first. Helen heard the footsteps coming up behind her, but continued scraping away. The smell of chipped rock, a dusty hot scent that always reminded her of striking flints, lingered strongly in the bright heat of a Montana summer. "Dr. Sutter?" She finished freeing the small round stone that had been in her way, then stood up, dusting off her hands before extending one for a handshake. "Hello, Director Bonds." Bonds was sweating and trying not to show how winded he was from the walk. He'd been quite a field scientist himself before he became director of the museum, and was probably a little embarrassed … | |
Heirs of Alexandria | ||||
| The Shadow of the Lion | Фэнтези | | Отрывок из книги - The Shadow of the Lion Diego's head was still cocked to one side. The mannerism was characteristic of the Castilian. "Eneko, why?exactly?are we going there? It can't be simply because of the scryers. Those gloomy fellows detect Lithuanian and Hungarian schemes everywhere. I'm sure they'd find Chernobog rooting in the ashes of my mother's kitchen fire, if they looked long enough." "True enough," agreed Eneko, smiling. "But in this instance, the matter is more specific. Apparently rumors have begun to surface that the Strega Grand Master was not murdered after all. He may still be alive. The Grand Metropolitan wants me to investigate." The last sentence caused both Diego and Pierre to frown. The first, with puzzlement; the second, with disapproval. "Why is it our business what happens to a pagan mage?" demanded Pierre. Again, Eneko bestowed that mild gaze upon the Savoyard. "The Church does not consider the Strega to be 'pagans,' I would remind you. Outside our faith, yes. Pagans, no. The distinction was implicit … | |
| Much Fall Of Blood | Фэнтези | | Отрывок из книги - Much Fall Of Blood "Always seems to be," said Eberhart, dryly. "And one of these would go south, and the other north. It would seem that being flanked by the same enemy would be unwise for anyone, let alone a master of tactics like the Mongol." "You speak soothly," said Ahmbien with equal dryness. "Except… Gatu, we believe, has no intention of being flanked… by enemies." It took a moment for this to sink in. "I think I need to go and prepare certain messages, Your Excellency," said Eberhart. He struggled to stand up, his knees complaining about the long time spent sitting on the cushions. The Bashar Ahmbien waved him down. "Sit, my guest. I have more to tell you, and a proposal to make. I wish to introduce you to the tarkhan Borshar." He clapped his hands. A servant appeared, bowed. "Summon the tarkhan Borshar of Dishmaq," said the old man. Borshar, when he arrived a few minutes later, was a tall shaven-headed man with the customary Mongol forelock. He showed not a trace of expression on his broad face. … | |
| This Rough Magic | Фэнтези | | Отрывок из книги - This Rough Magic Trolliger made a last attempt to evade the prospect of miserable months spent in Italy. "Still, perhaps Manfred-" But the Emperor was already shaking his head, smiling at the baron's effort. "Not a chance, Hans. You know I need to send Manfred and Erik off to deal with this Swedish mess. Besides, what I need here in Italy, for the moment, is an observer." The baron grimaced. He could hardly argue the point, after all. The notion that rambunctious young Prince Manfred-even restrained by his keeper Erik Hakkonsen-would ever simply act as an "observer" was… Ludicrous. "I hate Italy," he muttered. "I'd hate it even if it wasn't inhabited by Italians." KINGDOM OF HUNGARY, NEAR THE CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS Elizabeth, Countess Bartholdy, laughed musically. She looked like a woman who would have a musical laugh; in fact, she looked like a woman who never did, or had, anything without grace, charm, and beauty. Yet somehow, underneath all that beauty, there was… something else. Something old, something … | |
Rats, Bats and Vats | ||||
| Rats, Bats and Vats | Юмористическая фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - Rats, Bats and Vats "Ha, Pistol, as if your puissant pike ever found a rat maiden that had despaired of winning a rat's affection…" "What we observe here is the moral quandary inherent in the empiricist approach to-" "Oh, put a sock in it, Doc," Pistol said. A flash of Chip's headlight showed him a rat with a daft pince-nez made of scrap wire perched on his long nose, also digging. That was the weird Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel. That rat proved sanity was not necessary for survival. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich was a soft-cyber experiment who had been drafted in when things got dire. Somebody had told Chip that Doc had been the product of load-tolerance tests on the vocabulary unit ROM of the alien-built cybernetic enhancement chips. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich had gotten a download of the whole of Hegel's Phenomenology of Spirit and Science of Logic into his ratty brain, along with a mass of other philosophical claptrap. The result: the loony medic seemed to think he was a rat reincarnation of Georg W. F. Hegel. … | |
The Rats, the Bats and vats | ||||
| The Rats, the Bats and the Ugly | Юмористическая фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - The Rats, the Bats and the Ugly They'd never realized that she wasn't a doll. She had become a person. She was shaped, perhaps, by the material downloaded into her soft-cyber's memory chips. In her case, Bronte had had a large effect. But, just as the rats remained ratlike despite Shakespeare and Gilbert and Sullivan, and the bats remained bats, despite Wobbly songs and Irish folk music, she remained human despite the implant. Not a doll, but someone who could think, reason and love. She looked fondly at Chip. Private Charles Connolly… Now attempting to put a jack under a vehicle that was chassis-deep in mud. He was neither Heathcliffe nor Edward Rochester. He was just himself: a Vat-born human, born in poverty, raised to servitude, indebted for life to the company of which her father had been the majority shareholder. A company whose founding purpose, in theory, had been to build a new utopia based on the ideals of Fabian Socialism. Like the truck, the ideal had lost its course, got stuck in the ditch and was now axle … | |
Trail of Glory | ||||
| 1824: The Arkansas War | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - 1824: The Arkansas War The secretary of state, the third man in the room, cleared his throat. "Perhaps:" John Quincy Adams pursed his lips. "The work stretched out over that long a period of time:" President Monroe shook his head. "I thank you, John, but let's not be foolish. Sam Houston? " He chuckled. "I remind you that my son-in-law is the same man who, at the age of sixteen, crossed sixty miles of Tennessee wilderness after running away from home. Then he lived among the Cherokee for several years, even being adopted into one of their clans. He could find his way through any woods or mountains in Creation." The president's tone of voice grew somber. "Even drunk, as he so often is these days." Monroe finally turned away from the window. "No, let's not be foolish. He spends as much time in the Confederacy as he does here at home, since the treaty was signed. There is no chance that Sam Houston failed to see what his friend Patrick Driscol was doing. Nor, given his military experience, that he didn't understand … | |
| 1812: The Rivers of War | Альтернативная история | | Отрывок из книги - 1812: The Rivers of War The fact that the general's left arm was in a sling only added emphasis to the rigid, accusing finger of the other hand. For two reasons. First, because Jackson seemed to have an uncanny knack for striking dramatic poses. The lion, wounded, yet still able to challenge the hyena. Second, because the militia officer knew-so did everyone, including Sam himself-that the wound in question was the result of a recent shootout at a hotel in Nashville between Jackson and his friend Coffee and the Benton brothers. The pose might be histrionic, but Jackson's capacity for violence was by now a legend on the frontier. Again, that jaw thrusting forth. " Damn me if I won't, sir!" he roared. "I'll shoot them myself, if I have to!" The jaw receded, leaving the man a sinking wreck. Jackson's eyes turned back to Sam. "I will trust you to carry out the order, young ensign. If you've got spine enough to stand up to me, you ought to have spine enough to shoot a worthless deserter." The officer, though sinking, … | |
Wages of Sin | ||||
| Torch of Freedom | Космическая фантастика | 2009 | | Отрывок из книги - Torch of Freedom "That's my read, too," Rozsak agreed. "However much she may hate 'Peeps,' she's enough of a student of history to know the Republic wasn't always the biggest, hungriest hog in the neighborhood. And however little some parts of her personality might like admitting it, I think she recognizes that seeing the Old Republic come back would be a lot less strenuous—and dangerous—than going back to hog-killing time. Not that I'm prepared to even guesstimate how likely she thinks it is that they will succeed." "I imagine we're both rather more optimistic in that respect than she is." Barregos' smile was wintry. "Probably has something to do with our not having been at war with the People's Republic of Haven for the last fifteen or twenty T-years." "That's true enough, but I'm also inclined to think there's some genuine principle involved here—in Torch's case, I mean—too," Rozsak said. "The one thing Haven and Manticore have always agreed on is how much they both hate the genetic slave trade and … |
| Crown of Slaves | Космическая фантастика | 2003 | | Отрывок из книги - Crown of Slaves Elizabeth laughed again. "The things she got me into! One scrape after another. My favorite escapade-the one that got her banned from the Palace for months, my mother was so furious-was the time-" She broke off abruptly. The grin faded, becoming almost strained, but didn't vanish entirely. "Yes, I know, Captain Zilwicki. And now she's banned from the Palace again-politically, if not personally-and by my order, not the Queen Mother's. Which, as it happens, is why I asked you here. In a complicated sort of way." The Queen made a little motion to the majordomo. Obviously expecting it, the man and one of the soldiers standing guard brought up two of the chairs against a wall and positioned them in front of the Queen and her companion. "Do have a seat, Captain, please. Both of you." Interesting, thought Anton. He was not familiar with royal protocol from personal experience, but he knew a lot about it. Anton knew a lot about most things which bore in any way upon his concerns. He was sure he … |
Велисарий | ||||
| The Dance of Time | Фэнтези | | Отрывок из книги - The Dance of Time But how many? That question would still be unclear in the minds of the enemy. Not all of them, for a certainty. When Belisarius took his main force to outflank the Malwa in the Punjab, leaving behind Calopodius and fewer than two thousand men to serve as a diversion, he had also left some of the field guns and mortars. Those pieces had savaged the Malwa attackers, when they finally grew suspicious enough to test the real strength of Calopodius' position. "The truth is," said Luke gruffly, "it doesn't really matter anyway." Again, the heavy hand settled on Calopodius' slender shoulder, this time giving it a little squeeze of approval. "You've already done what the general asked you to, lad. Kept the Malwa confused, thinking Belisarius was still here, while he marched in secret to the northeast. Did it as well as he could have possibly hoped." They had reached one of the covered portions of the trench, Calopodius sensed. He couldn't see the earth-covered logs which gave some protection from … | |
Эскалибур | ||||
| Carthago Delenda Est | Боевая фантастика | | Отрывок из книги - Carthago Delenda Est Seeing the Voivode’s increasingly rapid finger-flexing, the Pilot hurried to her conclusion. “The data indicate that the natives of that planet have recently developed the capacity to manipulate the electromagnetic spectrum. Radio waves, to be precise.” Agayan’s clusters spread wide with puzzlement. “Radio? Of what possible use-” “It is a primitive technique, Guild Voivode. No advanced civilization bothers with radio, but-according to the Historiographic Bureau, at least-the radio portion of the electromagnetic spectrum is typically the first point of entry for civilizations which-” The significance of the information finally penetrated. Agayan lurched erect. “Civilization?” he screeched. “Are you trying to claim that these-these human savages have reached the point of industrial chain reaction?” The Pilot scuttled back on her footskirt. Her color was now so deep a purple as to be almost black. “I’m not claiming anything, Guild Voivode! I’m just relaying what the-” “Ridiculous! I know … | |
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