Harbottle Philip - The Science-Fantasy Megapack / Харботтл Филип - Мегапак "Научное фэнтэзи" [2013, EPUB, ENG]

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The Science-Fantasy Megapack / Мегапак "Научное фэнтэзи"

Название: The Science-Fantasy Megapack / Мегапак "Научное фэнтэзи"
Год выпуска: 2013
Под редакцией: Harbottle Philip / Харботтл Филип
Издательство: Wildside Press LLC
ISBN: 978-1-4794-0149-9
Формат: EPUB
Качество: eBook
Язык: английский

Научное фэнтези (англ. Science fantasy) — гибридное направление, созданное на стыке научной фантастики и фэнтези, для которого характерно сочетание научно-фантастических элементов со сказочно-мифологической традицией.
В антологию включены 25 произведений, как известных, так и не очень Smile авторов.
    The Call of the Grave by Brian N. Ball
    The Warlord of Kul Satu by Brian N. Ball
    The Broken Sequence by Antonio Bellomi
    Final Contact by Sydney J. Bounds
    Sunskimmer by Sydney J. Bounds
    A Time for Contact by Sydney J. Bounds
    Writer for Hire by Sydney J. Bounds
    The Tapestry of Time by Eric Brown
    Uncertain World by Eric Brown
    I'll Kiss You Goodnight by Frederick Christian
    Assassin by Andrew Darlington
    Prisoner of Time by John Russell Fearn
    The House on the Moors by John S. Glasby
    The Martian Enigma by John S. Glasby
    Nightfall on Ronan by John S. Glasby
    The Drainpipe by Philip E. High
    The Gunman by Philip E. High
    The Wishing Stone by Philip E. High
    Something in the Air by Gordon Landsborough
    The Dilettantes by E. C. Tubb
    Emergency Exit by E. C. Tubb
    The Greater Ideal by E. C. Tubb
    You Go by E. C. Tubb
    Sea Change by Peter Oldale
    Brides for Mars by Eric C. Williams

That spring, with winter well past and summer on the way, I decided that the time had come to visit Simon Cauldwell.
I had delayed our meeting for a number of reasons, some obvious but others hidden in the depths of my psyche: fear, of course, was dominant I didn’t want to confront Cauldwell with my findings for fear of what I might learn.
I was forty-five, happily married with a ten-year-old daughter, and I held a secure post as a senior lecturer in medieval archaeology at Oxford. I had reached the stage in my life at which I was confident that the future would hold no surprises. Perhaps I was complacent.
Fiona guessed that something was amiss. One evening in April she appeared at the door of my study. She must have been watching me for a while before I looked up and noticed her.
I smiled, tired.
“It’s that skull, isn’t it?”
I massaged my eyes. “What is?” I said, not for the first time amazed at my wife’s perspicacity.
“Dan, ever since you found the thing, you’ve been different. Morose withdrawn. If I believed in that kind of thing, I’d say it was cursed “
I managed to smile. “It’s not cursed,” I said. “Just misplaced. The skeleton was found with artefacts that date from a hundred years later. “
She pushed herself from the jamb of the door and kissed the top of my head.
I said, “The paper I’m writing, trying to explain the anomaly, just isn’t working.…”
“I’m sorry, Dan. Dinner in ten minutes, okay?” She kissed me again and left the room.
Whenever I lied to Fiona, which wasn’t often, I always wondered if she’d seen through me.
Misplaced artefacts, indeed.…
The truth was far more perplexing, and worrying, than that.
A few days later I e-mailed Cauldwell, telling him that I’d had second thoughts about his offer.
He phoned later that afternoon. “Dan, so persistence pays off! You’ve seen sense at last. Good man. Look, when’s convenient for you?”
“I’m free all this week.”
“Excellent. Come over to the research station and I’ll show you around the place. It’s all hush-hush, of course. Top secret and all that.”
“I understand,” I said.
“Tomorrow at one suit? Excellent, see you then.”
I replaced the phone, very aware of my thudding heartbeat. There was no turning back, now.
The headquarters of Sigma Research Inc. was buried away in the Oxfordshire countryside, miles away from the prying eyes of bustling Oxford.
I drove slowly through the tortuous, leafy lanes, considering my imminent meeting with Cauldwell and, despite myself, reviewing my dealings with the man. Despite the tone of bonhomie he had affected on the phone the day before, we had always been sworn rivals. Not to put too fine a point on if I detested him.
He had been one of those old-fashioned academics ensconced in a sinecure at Oxford’s richest and most conservative college. His resistance to theory, his inability to see the worth of research ideologically opposed to his own narrow views, had won him many enemies. Much to the surprise and envy of his colleagues, last year he had been headhunted by Sigma Research, a big American outfit with a lot of dollars and a market-led excavation theory.
A few months after Cauldwell left Oxford, I discovered the eleventh-century skull at a dig near the village of Sheppey, Herefordshire.
And a couple of days after that, Cauldwell himself phoned to invite me to join his team at Sigma Research. More than a little suspicious, I had told him I was quite happy at Oxford, thanks all the same.
Now I was following up his invitation—purely in the interests of research, of course.
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