The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume 2B
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This volume is the definitive collection of the best science fiction novellas between 1929 to 1964 and contains eleven great classics. There is no better anthology that captures the birth of science fiction as a literary field.
Published in 1973 to honor stories that had come before the institution of the Nebula Awards, The Science Fiction Hall of Fame introduced tens of thousands of young readers to the wonders of science fiction and was a favorite of libraries across the country.
This volume contains novellas by: Ray Bradbury, James Blish, Algis Budrys, Theodore Cogswell, E. M. Forster, Frederik Pohl, James H. Schmitz, T. L. Sherred, Wilmar H. Shiras, Clifford D. Simak, and Jack Vance.
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Machine.” And before long this allocution was printed on the first page of the Book, and in subsequent editions the ritual swelled into a complicated system of praise and prayer. The word “religion” was sedulously avoided, and in theory the Machine was still the creation and the implement of man. But in practice all, save a few retrogrades, worshipped it as divine. Nor was it worshipped in unity. One believer would be chiefly impressed by the blue optic plates, through which he saw other
shot straight up through the top of the cavern. … IMT made the sky Fall… Amalfi yawned ostentatiously and bent back to fastening the plate over the booster’s observation port. Karst squatted near him, frankly asleep, as relaxed and comfortable as a cat drowsing on a high ledge. Heldon watched. “I’m going to have to do the job for you,” Amalfi said. “It’s really major; might take weeks.” “I thought you would say so,” Heldon said. “And I was glad to give you the time to find out. But I do not
scanned. That body is gone—torn down and converted into the energy that drives the transmitter. It has to be that way. We can correct perfectly for the impact of the scanning beams themselves on the particles of the original body, but the impact must exist—there has to be resistance for the scanners to feel.” Barker leaned back. “And that’s how I die? But it’s not real death, as long as I don’t feel it and can step out of the receiver. What do I care where my particles come from?” “That’s not
him, her breasts moving under the loose top. “Do you have any kind of a conscience?” she asked. “Is there anyone who can hurt you?” He shook his head. “That kind of question doesn’t apply. I do what I have to do.” She seemed to be almost hypnotized. She leaned closer. “I want to see if Al’s all right,” Hawks said, getting up. Claire arched her neck and stared up at him. “Hawks,” she whispered. “Excuse me, Claire.” He stepped around her drawn-up legs and moved toward the house. “Hawks,” she
started to roll over him, but he fought it back. “There must be some way to open this from the inside,” he thought. As his fingers wandered over the dark interior of the suit looking for a release lever, they encountered a bank of keys set just below his midriff. He pressed one experimentally. A quiet hum filled the armor and suddenly a feeling of weightlessness came over him. He stiffened in fright. As he did so one of his steel shod feet pushed lightly backwards against the floor. That was