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Silverberg, Robert (ed.) - The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One, 1929-1964 / Силверберг, Роберт (ред.) - Зал Славы НФ, том 1, 1929-1964 [2003, fb2, ENG]

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Robert Silverberg (ed.) - The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One, 1929-1964

Название: The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One, 1929-1964 / Зал Славы НФ, том 1, 1929-1964
Год выпуска: 2003
Под редакцией: Silverberg, Robert / Силверберг, Роберт
Издательство: Tor
ISBN: 0-765-30536-4
Формат: fb2
Качество: OCR
Язык: английский

Описание:
26 лучших НФ рассказов и повестей 1929-1964 года, выбранных писателями-фантастами (Science Fiction Writers of America).
A Martian Odyssey / Марсианская Одиссея by Stanley G. Weinbaum
Twilight / Сумерки by John W. Campbell, Jr.
Helen O'Loy / Елена Лав by Lester del Rey
The Roads Must Roll / Дороги должны катиться by Robert A. Heinlein
Microcosmic God / Бог микрокосмоса by Theodore Sturgeon
Nightfall / Приход ночи by Isaac Asimov
The Weapon Shop / Оружейная лавка by A. E. van Vogt
Mimsy Were the Borogoves / «Все тенали бороговы...» by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore
Huddling Place / Берлога by Clifford D. Simak
Arena / Арена by Fredric Brown
First Contact / Первый контакт by Murray Leinster
That Only a Mother / Только мать… by Judith Merril
Scanners Live in Vain / Сканнеры живут напрасно by Cordwainer Smith
Mars Is Heaven! / Третья экспедиция by Ray Bradbury
The Little Black Bag / Чёрный чемоданчик by C. M. Kornbluth
Born of Man and Woman / Рожденный мужчиной и женщиной by Richard Matheson
Coming Attraction / Увидеть красоту, или Ловушка, которую ждёшь by Fritz Leiber
The Quest for Saint Aquin / Поиски святого Аквина by Anthony Boucher
Surface Tension / Поверхностное натяжение by James Blish
The Nine Billion Names of God / Девять миллиардов имён Бога by Arthur C. Clarke
It's a Good Life / Мы живём хорошо! by Jerome Bixby
The Cold Equations / Неумолимое уравнение by Tom Godwin
Fondly Fahrenheit / Убийственный Фаренгейт by Alfred Bester
The Country of the Kind / Страна милостивых by Damon Knight
Flowers for Algernon / Цветы для Элджернона by Daniel Keyes
A Rose for Ecclesiastes / Роза для Екклезиаста by Roger Zelazny
COMING ATTRACTION


by Fritz Leiber


First published in 1950

The coupe with the fishhooks welded to the fender shouldered up over the curb like the nose of a nightmare. The girl in its path stood frozen, her face probably stiff with fright under her mask. For once my reflexes weren’t shy. I took a fast step toward her, grabbed her elbow, yanked her back. Her black skirt swirled out.
The big coupe shot by, its turbine humming. I glimpsed three faces. Something ripped. I felt the hot exhaust on my ankles as the big coupe swerved back into the street. A thick cloud like a black flower blossomed from its jouncing rear end, while from the fishhooks flew a black shimmering rag.
“Did they get you?” I asked the girl.
She had twisted around to look where the side of her skirt was torn away. She was wearing nylon tights.
“The hooks didn’t touch me,” she said shakily. “I guess I’m lucky.”
I heard voices around us:
“Those kids! What’ll they think up next?”
“They’re a menace. They ought to be arrested.”
Sirens screamed at a rising pitch as two motor police, their rocket-assist jets full on, came whizzing toward us after the coupe. But the black flower had become an inky fog obscuring the whole street. The motor police switched from rocket assists to rocket brakes and swerved to a stop near the smoke cloud.
“Are you English?” the girl asked me. “You have an English accent.” Her voice came shudderingly from behind the sleek black satin mask. I fancied her teeth must be chattering. Eyes that were perhaps blue searched my face from behind the black gauze covering the eyeholes of the mask.
I told her she’d guessed right.
She stood close to me. “Will you come to my place tonight?” she asked rapidly. “I can’t thank you now. And there’s something else you can help me about.”
My arm, still lightly circling her waist, felt her body trembling. I was answering the plea in that as much as in her voice when I said, “Certainly.”
She gave me an address south of Inferno, an apartment number and a time. She asked me my name and I told her.
“Hey, you!”
I turned obediently to the policeman’s shout. He shooed away the small clucking crowd of masked women and barefaced men. Coughing from the smoke that the black coupe had thrown out, he asked for my papers. I handed him the essential ones.
. . .
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