Lightspeed Magazine, Issue 27 (August 2012)

Lightspeed Magazine, Issue 27 (August 2012)

Language: English

Pages: 162

ISBN: 2:00096336

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Lightspeed Magazine, Issue 27 (August 2012)

Language: English

Pages: 162

ISBN: 2:00096336

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Edited by bestselling anthologist John Joseph Adams, every month Lightspeed brings you a mix of originals and reprints, and featuring a variety of authors—from the bestsellers and award-winners you already know to the best new voices you haven’t heard of yet. When you read Lightspeed, it is our hope that you’ll see where science fiction and fantasy comes from, where it is now, and where it’s going.

Our current publication schedule each month includes four pieces of original fiction and four fiction reprints, along with two feature interviews

Welcome to issue twenty-seven of Lightspeed!

Here’s what we’ve got on tap this month:

We have original fantasy by Kat Howard (“Breaking the Frame”) and Linda Nagata (“A Moment Before It Struck”), along with fantasy reprints by Wil McCarthy (“The Necromancer in Love”) and Delia Sherman (“Cotillion”).

Plus, we’ll have original science fiction by 2012 Nebula Award-winner Ken Liu (“The Bookmaking Habits of Select Species”) and a collaboration between Caroline M. Yoachim and Tina Connolly (“Flash Bang Remember”), and SF reprints by io9’s Charlie Jane Anders (“Love Might Be Too Strong a Word”) and award-winning author Michael Swanwick (“Slow Life”).

For our ebook readers, our ebook-exclusive novella is “A Separate War” by Joe Haldeman, and we have an excerpt of Kitty Steals the Show, the new Kitty Norville novel by bestselling author Carrie Vaughn.

All that, plus our usual assortment of author and artist spotlights, and feature interviews with bestselling authors Kim Stanley Robinson and Seanan McGuire (a/k/a Mira Grant).

Ordinary Love and Good Will

The Death of Ivan Ilyich and Master and Man

The Hive (Star Wars: Clone Wars)

Transgressions: Ten Brand-New Novellas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

to turn off your automatic defenses. Otherwise they’d be slaughtered.” “So you invite us to be slaughtered instead,” he said. “Me and your two representatives here.” “I’ll tell them to cease fire immediately.” All this conversation was going on with a twenty-second time lag. So “immediately” would be a while in coming. Without comment, the two Taurans disappeared, and the forty duplicate humans filed back through the dome. “All right,” Eagle said, “perhaps there is a way around this time

surgery. The ship was only two hours away, but it was a long two hours for me. As it turned out, she lived, but I lost her anyhow, to relativity. She and the other amputees were loaded, still asleep, onto the extra cruiser, and sent straight to Heaven. They did it in one jump, no need for secrecy anymore, and we went to Stargate in one jump aboard Bolivar. When I’d last been to Stargate it had been a huge space station; now it was easily a hundred times as large, a man-made planetoid.

very beautiful two months there. Our treks were filled with friendliness, and sort of a pilgrimage feeling, like The Canterbury Tales or any pilgrimage. That is a special walk, where you walk with other people and you aren’t necessarily companioned with them every single day or hour, but you keep crossing paths with them, and everybody has this spirit that something great is going on here, something bigger than us. So a pilgrimage is a beautiful thing, and a lot of people do it around the

tanked. Everything was mine. I don’t want all my best memories to be theirs too.” “And they always will be, if they keep recording you,” she said. It probably wasn’t the best thing to say, but it slipped out. His fists tensed and suddenly he climbed up on the tiled ridge that separated the part of the room she was cleaning from the undrained water on the other side, balancing on his wobbly calf legs. The ridge was rounded and slick with sludge that she hadn’t gotten to yet. “I hate them all.

sweet ghosts of incense and pot. Anything could happen here. Anything at all. A couple of blocks east, Valentine opened a cast-iron gate, mounted the steps of a brownstone, pushed a paint-caked button. A buzzer screeched and he opened the door on a long hall with a worn wooden stair at the end. Celia sucked in a deep breath tinted with pot and cabbage and wondered if her floaty, slightly panicked feeling might be a contact high. The apartment was on the third floor. As Celia and Valentine

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