Read Online The Best of Galaxy’s Edge 2013-2014 by Larry Niven, Nancy Kress, Mercedes Lackey, Ken Liu, Brad R. Torgersen, C. L. Moore, Tina Gower - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Larry Niven, Nancy Kress, Mercedes Lackey, Ken Liu, Brad R. Torgersen, C. L. Moore, Tina Gower
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subphotonic missile’s warhead.
A dazzling flare, and then the most beautiful sight in the universe: the spinning, glowing vortex of a matter-antimatter annihilation explosion.
“Well done,” says the computer.
I gambled that the Azazin time reverser could not be triggered twice in quick succession. The missile was meant to come close, but miss. My suicide collision course was calculated to take exactly fifteen minutes. When the Azazin reversed time’s arrow, they brought the missile back to its point of closest approach. Effect became cause.
“Thinking backwards hurts,” I say, as we continue to watch the spinning vortex.
Published in Galaxy’s Edge Issue 2
Copyright © 2013 by Ken Liu. All rights reserved.
Ghost in the Machine
by Ralph Roberts
M arcus Teague sat hunched over in the cramped confines of the 16-gigabyte USB thumb drive. The muscles on his mighty arms rippled as he cleaned his wizard’s sword, running the polishing spell up and down the blade with precision. It might be all virtual, but he was buff with bulging biceps, a mighty chest, a narrow waist, bronzed skin, ready for any battle. The sleeveless T-shirt with its mystical symbols in hex and octal, and the Microsoft and Ubuntu certification badges, emphasized that.
“Looks like Bill could spring for a bigger ready room,” he said, “maybe a 64-gig thumb drive or, better, a 120-gig solid state drive, huh?”
He looked up when Oscar did not answer.
The old man didn’t look good—battered and bruised, moaning whenever he moved, flat on his back, exhausted. Troubleshooting hardware took it out of you. Blown power supplies, crashed hard drives, loose cables, and all those intermittent ills that kept Oscar in dark old machines for hours when no telling what was going to jump him.
When time permitted, Marcus went along to watch his friend’s back. Besides, he enjoyed chopping up fanged viruses, stomping malware data-mining dwarves, tearing apart virus ogres, erasing script dragons, and all the rest of it. Bring on those Trojans in their virtual Greek armor. They were no match for the wiz!
Marcus shook his head. Oscar had insisted on keeping the same physique—he was the same old man now as the virtual-reality-helmet-wearing body laying currently on the broken-down couch in the littered backroom of Billal’s Computer Repair. Billal’s was maybe the most unprofitable computer shop in Chicago—but it had two things no other shop anywhere in the world had: it had him and Oscar. It also had Bill, who tried hard but was the most incompetent shop manager possible, and the shadowy, probably criminal partner, Al—who had bankrolled the place but was never around much. Well, scratch that last; Al hung out in the shop a lot more of late.
With some grunting, Oscar managed to roll over a little and looked at Marcus.
“Bill can’t afford it. Shop’s losing money, which suits that sleazebag Al just fine. He wants the secret of how we do this.”
Marcus shrugged and went back to working on his sword. He just wanted to do his job. He liked it, even if minimum wage was all they got. He’d made all this work after Bill invented the concept. Coded it, debugged it, and was the first to try it. This was his baby! He’d given it birth— virtual computer repair . And, yes, he knew Al—who had to be connected to organized crime—was hot after this technology. That’s why the gangster dribbled out only enough funds to keep the shop doors open.
“Marcus, what do you want out of life?” Oscar said.
Marcus thought about it and shrugged. “Enough money for me to upgrade my hardware at home and to find true love—in whichever order, but I want a 24-core CPU soon.”
Oscar painfully laid flat again. “You won’t get them things here.”
A tone beeped and a work order with an IP address popped up on a tiny virtual screen.
“For me?” Oscar asked, his voice weary.
“Nope, it’s for me—some guy’s computer’s running slow and probably
A dazzling flare, and then the most beautiful sight in the universe: the spinning, glowing vortex of a matter-antimatter annihilation explosion.
“Well done,” says the computer.
I gambled that the Azazin time reverser could not be triggered twice in quick succession. The missile was meant to come close, but miss. My suicide collision course was calculated to take exactly fifteen minutes. When the Azazin reversed time’s arrow, they brought the missile back to its point of closest approach. Effect became cause.
“Thinking backwards hurts,” I say, as we continue to watch the spinning vortex.
Published in Galaxy’s Edge Issue 2
Copyright © 2013 by Ken Liu. All rights reserved.
Ghost in the Machine
by Ralph Roberts
M arcus Teague sat hunched over in the cramped confines of the 16-gigabyte USB thumb drive. The muscles on his mighty arms rippled as he cleaned his wizard’s sword, running the polishing spell up and down the blade with precision. It might be all virtual, but he was buff with bulging biceps, a mighty chest, a narrow waist, bronzed skin, ready for any battle. The sleeveless T-shirt with its mystical symbols in hex and octal, and the Microsoft and Ubuntu certification badges, emphasized that.
“Looks like Bill could spring for a bigger ready room,” he said, “maybe a 64-gig thumb drive or, better, a 120-gig solid state drive, huh?”
He looked up when Oscar did not answer.
The old man didn’t look good—battered and bruised, moaning whenever he moved, flat on his back, exhausted. Troubleshooting hardware took it out of you. Blown power supplies, crashed hard drives, loose cables, and all those intermittent ills that kept Oscar in dark old machines for hours when no telling what was going to jump him.
When time permitted, Marcus went along to watch his friend’s back. Besides, he enjoyed chopping up fanged viruses, stomping malware data-mining dwarves, tearing apart virus ogres, erasing script dragons, and all the rest of it. Bring on those Trojans in their virtual Greek armor. They were no match for the wiz!
Marcus shook his head. Oscar had insisted on keeping the same physique—he was the same old man now as the virtual-reality-helmet-wearing body laying currently on the broken-down couch in the littered backroom of Billal’s Computer Repair. Billal’s was maybe the most unprofitable computer shop in Chicago—but it had two things no other shop anywhere in the world had: it had him and Oscar. It also had Bill, who tried hard but was the most incompetent shop manager possible, and the shadowy, probably criminal partner, Al—who had bankrolled the place but was never around much. Well, scratch that last; Al hung out in the shop a lot more of late.
With some grunting, Oscar managed to roll over a little and looked at Marcus.
“Bill can’t afford it. Shop’s losing money, which suits that sleazebag Al just fine. He wants the secret of how we do this.”
Marcus shrugged and went back to working on his sword. He just wanted to do his job. He liked it, even if minimum wage was all they got. He’d made all this work after Bill invented the concept. Coded it, debugged it, and was the first to try it. This was his baby! He’d given it birth— virtual computer repair . And, yes, he knew Al—who had to be connected to organized crime—was hot after this technology. That’s why the gangster dribbled out only enough funds to keep the shop doors open.
“Marcus, what do you want out of life?” Oscar said.
Marcus thought about it and shrugged. “Enough money for me to upgrade my hardware at home and to find true love—in whichever order, but I want a 24-core CPU soon.”
Oscar painfully laid flat again. “You won’t get them things here.”
A tone beeped and a work order with an IP address popped up on a tiny virtual screen.
“For me?” Oscar asked, his voice weary.
“Nope, it’s for me—some guy’s computer’s running slow and probably
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