Davis, Hank (ed) - As Time Goes By / Дэвис, Хэнк (ред) - Проходит время [2015, EPUB, ENG]

Gibraltar Falls / Гибралтарский водопад short story by Poul Anderson Triceratops Summer / Лето с трицератопсами short story by Michael Swanwick The Chronoclasm / Хроноклазм novelette by John Wyndham The Girl Who Made Time Stop / Девушка, заставившая время остановиться short story by Robert F. Young The Other Now / Другая реальность short story by Murray Leinster A Dry, Quiet War / Сухая, тихая война novelette by Tony Daniel Six Months, Three Days novelette by Charlie Jane Anders The Day of the Green Velvet Cloak short story by Mildred Clingerman A Wow Finish novelette by James Van Pelt Backtracked / Искусство отсекать лишнее short story by Burt K. Filer So Little and So Light short fiction by Sarah A. Hoyt The Price of Oranges novelette by Nancy Kress The Secret Place / Тайник short story by Richard McKenna Palely Loitering novelette by Christopher Priest

During the summers of my childhood, the best treat of all was our annual picnic in Flux Channel Park, which lay some fifty miles from home. Because my father was set in his ways, and for him no picnic would be worthy of its name without a joint of freshly roasted cold ham, the first clue we children had was always, therefore, when Cook began her preparations. I made a point every day of slipping down unnoticed to the cellar to count the hams that hung from steel hooks in the ceiling, and as soon as I found one was missing I would hurry to my sisters and share the news. The next day, the house would fill with the rich aroma of ham roasting in cloves, and we three children would enter an elaborate charade: inside we would be brimming over with excitement at the thought of the adventure, but at the same time restraining ourselves to act normally, because Father’s announcement of his plans at breakfast on the chosen day was an important part of the fun. We grew up in awe and dread of our father, for he was a distant and strict man. Throughout the winter months, when his work made its greatest demands, we hardly saw him, and all we knew of him were the instructions passed on to us by Mother or the governor. In the summer months he chose to maintain the distance, joining us only for meals, and spending the evenings alone in his study. However, once a year my father would mellow, and for this alone the excursions to the Park would have been cause for joy. He knew the excitement the trip held for us and he played up to it, revealing the instinct of showman and actor. . . .