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Hoyle, Fred / Хойл, Фред - Собрание сочинений (23 произведения) [1957-2015, fb2/epub ENG]

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Fred Hoyle / Фред Хойл - Собрание сочинений

Годы выпуска: 1957-2015 г.
Автор: Hoyle, Fred / Хойл, Фред
Язык: Английский
Формат: fb2/epub
Качество: OCR/eBook

Описание:
Фред Хойл — (24 июня 1915 г. - 20 августа 2001 г.) известный британский астроном, автор нескольких научно-фантастических романов.
Известность Хойлу-писателю принес первый его научно-фантастический роман «Черное облако», описывающий появление в Солнечной системе одного из самых необычных инопланетян мировой НФ — гигантского разумного газового облака. Кроме того, перу Хойла принадлежат несколько научно-фантастических романов (философских, приключенческих, детских), сценариев сериалов, научно-популярных книг. Несколько романов написаны им в соавторстве с сыном Джеффри Хойлом.
    Andromeda / Андромеда (with John Elliot)
      01 A for Andromeda / Андромеда 1975, fb2, ISBN: 0-380-00299-X, Avon
      02 Andromeda Breakthrough / Дар Андромеды 1964, fb2
    The Black Cloud / Черное облако 1957, fb2; 2010, epub, ISBN: 978-0-14-196749-3, Penguin Books
    Ossian's Ride 1959, fb2
    Fifth Planet 1963, fb2 (with Geoffrey Hoyle)
    October the First Is Too Late 2015, epub, ISBN: 978-1-943910-10-6, Valancourt Books
    Rockets in Ursa Major 1969, fb2 (with Geoffrey Hoyle)
    Seven Steps to the Sun 1970, fb2 (with Geoffrey Hoyle)
    Element 79 1967, fb2
    • Zoomen
    • Pym Makes His Point
    • The Magnetosphere
    • A Play's the Thing
    • Cattle Trucks
    • Welcome to Slippage City
    • The Ax
    • Agent 38
    • The Martians
    • Shortsighted
    • A Jury of Five
    • Blackmail / Шантаж
    • Element 79
    • The Judgment of Aphrodite
    • The Operation


Prologue

THE SUN beat mercilessly down on the concrete launching pads at Mildenhall. The DSP 15 stood alone, glinting in the light of high noon. The apron around the ship was a hive of activity as the countdown drew to a close.
Best of luck, Fanshawe,' said John Fielding, the scientific leader of the project. 'When you return I shall have aged much more than you.'
'If your bally refrigerator works properly, Fielding,' replied the ship's Commander. can't quite see myself doing a recce in Ursa Major with a crew of Abominable Snowmen: He turned to his crew. `Right-ho, chaps, off we go. I'll tuck you up in the ice-box when we're on course.'
He held out his hand to Fielding. 'Don't look so worried. We really have absolute faith in the whole machine, so you'd better start looking to that jolly old beacon of yours, and make lots of toddy when you get our re-entry signals. We shall need it: John Fielding smiled and they shook hands.
Tubby Fanshawe moved towards the lift. Suddenly he stopped, and looked hard at a young blushing red-haired - space cadet. 'Ganges! 'Pon my soul, what's the Space Corps coming to? You must have concealed your batting averages.'
`Good luck, Fanshawe. I'm not supposed to be here, but couldn't resist seeing you off.' The young man beamed with pleasure at being recognized in the crowd.
`All the best to you, laddie,' said Fanshawe. 'Don't let the Generals grind you down.' With a last wave to the small crowd that had gathered, he climbed into the lift and was whisked to the crew's cabin at the nose of the ship.
Fifteen minutes later the rocket rose in a cloud of oxygen gas, exhaust flames and concrete dust, slowly tilting on its course for Ursa Major, and a page in history.
. . .


1

'I never think of the future. It comes soon enough.'
Einstein

Hot still air hung over the evening rush hour as Mike Jerome walked wearily from the dubbing studio. He stood on the edge of the pavement in Bayswater Road jaded by thoughts of the immense amount of writing he'd put into this film. Distracted by a girl among the rush hour travellers he was reminded vividly of Sue—she'd not been in touch since their bitter parting in New York. Still he wasn't unhappy. Just tired. An empty cab appeared and he moved quickly into the road flailing his arms. The driver manoeuvred his vehicle deftly from the outside lane.
'47 Frith Street,' said Mike, as he settled back.
His mind wandered over the petty events that led up to the quarrel with Sue. She'd wanted to stay on in New York, where she could enjoy her new found friends, while he battled with the television and film people to get some work. He wouldn't have minded, as he liked New York, but it was obvious Sue was interested in one of the men she'd met, and he didn't intend spending vast sums of his hard-earned money feathering her nest to share with someone else. The row had been short, sharp and final. Since he'd started working on this film his tolerance level had dropped almost to zero. The flat was a bit of a problem with too*much in it reminding him of her.
The taxi suddenly pulled up with a jolt; he was outside 47 Frith Street. Descending the stairs of the building to the basement door, he pushed it open and went into the jazz club. A moment or two and his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light. Standing up against the bar was the vast dark form of Pete Jones. Mike had met Pete some ten years before in Paris, when Pete was studying music at the Sorbonne, and he himself had been picking up spare cash by playing jazz piano in a club. From those very early days in Paris they had remained close friends.
'How'd it go, man?' asked Pete as Mike approached the bar.
'So, so.'
'Drink?'
'Thanks, when did you start?'
'Around ten, ten thirty,' came the bored reply.
'Idiot, when did you start boozing?' asked Mike.
'I think I must have been about six months old. My mother used to get me tight so that I wouldn't cry while I was teething, ever since then I've been addicted.'
'It must be about time someone put food in that stomach, then.'
Pete's face lit up, 'You're paying?' he said, as the two men finished their drinks and started to leave the club.
'You know, one of these days I'll drop dead with your generosity,' said Mike.
'Where to?' Pete asked, taking no notice of the heavy traffic as he crossed Shaftesbury Avenue against the lights.
'Wheeler's; it's fish night.'
They made their way through crowded Soho to Old Compton Street.
There wasn't a table ready, so they deposited them­selves in the bar with two large whiskies.
'Got rid of her junk yet?' asked Pete, draining his glass in one go.
'No, but I'll get round to it.'
'Good, you're well clear of that bitch.'
. . .
UPD Релиз обновлен 09.07.2019
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Hoyle, Fred - Fifth Planet - 1963.fb2
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Hoyle, Fred - October the First Is Too Late - 2015.epub
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UPD Релиз обновлен 12.09.2018
Добавлен роман
Hoyle, Fred - Fifth Planet - 1963.fb2

OldOldNick

UPD Релиз обновлен 09.07.2019
Добавлен роман
Hoyle, Fred - October the First Is Too Late - 2015.epub
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