Science Fiction Books

“And that,” said Colonel Fennister glumly, “appears to be that.” The pile of glowing coals that had been Storage Shed Number One was still sending up tongues of flame, but they were nothing compared with what they’d been half an hour before. “The smoke smells good, anyway,” said Major Grodski, sniffing appreciatively. The colonel turned his head and glowered at his adjutant. “There are... more...

When he heard the deer crashing through brush and scuffling the dead leaves, he stopped and stood motionless in the path. He watched them bolt down the slope from the right and cross in front of him, wishing he had the rifle, and when the last white tail vanished in the gray-brown woods he drove the spike of the ice-staff into the stiffening ground and took both hands to shift the weight of the pack.... more...

CHAPTER I. A MESSAGE FROM MARS. While I was glancing at the Times newspaper in a morning train for London my eyes fell on the following item:— A STRANGE LIGHT ON MARS.—On Monday afternoon, Dr. Krueger, who is in charge of the central bureau at Kiel, telegraphed to his correspondents:— "Projection lumineuse dans région australe du terminateur de Mars observée par Javelle 28 courant, 16... more...

SO, GENERAL, I came in to tell you I've found the loneliest man in the world for the Space Force. How am I supposed to rate his loneliness for you? In Megasorrows or Kilofears? I suspect I know quite a library on the subject, but you know more about stripes and bars. Don't try to stop me this time, General. Now that you mention it, I'm not drunk. I had to have something to back me up so... more...

hen I came into the control room the Captain looked up from a set of charts at me. He stood up and gave me a salute and I returned it, not making a ceremony out of it. "Half an hour to landing, sir," he said. That irritated me. It always irritates me. "I'm not an officer," I said. "I'm not even an enlisted man." He nodded, too quickly. "Yes, Mr. Carboy," he... more...

Jim Carter read the news dispatch thoughtfully and handed it back to his chief without comment. “Well, what do you make of it?” Miles Overton, city editor of , shoved his green eye-shade far back on his bald head and glanced up irritably from his littered desk. “I don’t know,” said Jim. “You don’t know!” Overton snorted, biting his dead cigar impatiently. “And I suppose you don’t... more...

There was, Telzey Amberdon thought, someone besides TT and herself in the garden. Not, of course, Aunt Halet, who was in the house waiting for an early visitor to arrive, and not one of the servants. Someone or something else must be concealed among the thickets of magnificently flowering native Jontarou shrubs about Telzey. She could think of no other way to account for Tick-Tock's spooked... more...

1. Harry Collins—1997 The telescreen lit up promptly at eight a.m. Smiling Brad came on with his usual greeting. "Good morning—it's a beautiful day in Chicagee!" Harry Collins rolled over and twitched off the receiver. "This I doubt," he muttered. He sat up and reached into the closet for his clothing. Visitors—particularly feminine ones—were always exclaiming over the... more...

PROLOGUE The murmur of conversation around the conference table died as the World Secretary entered the room and took his place at the head of the table. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said. “I’ll not detain you with formalities today. The representative of the Navy Department is waiting outside to present the case for his proposal. You all know something of the scheme; it has been heard and passed... more...

Detective Sergeant Fitzgerald found a package before his door that morning, along with the milk. He took it inside and opened it. It was a remarkably fine meerschaum pipe, such as the sergeant had longed irrationally to own for many years. There was no message with it, nor any card. He swore bitterly. On his way to Headquarters he stopped in at the orphanage where he usually left such gifts. On other... more...