Guran, Paula (ed) - Future Games / Гуран, Пола (ред) - Игры будущего [2013, EPUB, ENG]

Will the Chill novelette by John Shirley Run to Starlight / Рывок к звёздному свету novelette by George R. R. Martin Man-Mountain Gentian short story by Howard Waldrop Ender's Game / Игра Эндера novelette by Orson Scott Card The Fate of Nations short story by James Morrow Unsportsmanlike Conduct short fiction by Scott Westerfeld Ladies and Gentlemen, This Is Your Crisis! short fiction by Kate Wilhelm Breakaway novelette by George Alec Effinger Kip, Running short story by Genevieve Williams Diamond Girls short story by Louise Marley Anda's Game / Игра Энды novelette by Cory Doctorow Listen / Слушай short story by Joel Richards Name That Planet! short story by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough Distance novelette by Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff Pawn short story by Timons Esaias The Survivor novelette by Walter F. Moudy

Old Number 12 stood by a port and looked down at the playing field. The port, for some reason, was shaped like the rounded rectangle of a CRT screen. It gave you the feeling that you were watching television, even while you stared out at real life. It had the effect of creating boredom and dissatisfaction, something the ship’s designers never foresaw, because real life never moved so fast or so frantically as television. After thirty seconds at the port, you had a sneaking desire to change the channel. There was no way to do that, of course, and then you’d remember that you weren’t watching television, that you were instead aboard an orbiting plastic and steel ball, and you were so far from home that sometimes your eyes stung with tears. Václav Zajac, Number 12, turned away from the port. There really wasn’t anything to see: a pale green-white world of ice turning in the dim light of a distant cold sun. He leaned against the bulkhead, feeling the machinery of the orbiting station thrumming in the wall at his back. He chewed his lip and stared at the deck without seeing anything in particular. He was avoiding the locker room, and he didn’t want to take another glance through the port. There wasn’t much else to do. That was one of the main troubles with the station: there was really nothing to do. “Hey, Jackie,” called another player. “You coming?” . . .