The Apex Book of World SF: Volume 2 (Apex World of Speculative Fiction Book Series)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In The Apex Book of World SF 2, editor Lavie Tidhar collects short stories by science fiction and fantasy authors from Africa and Latin America.
An expedition to an alien planet; Lenin rising from the dead; a superhero so secret he does not exist. In The Apex Book of World SF 2, World Fantasy Award nominated editor Lavie Tidhar brings together a unique collection of stories from around the world. Quiet horror from Cuba and Australia; surrealist fantasy from Russia and epic fantasy from Poland; near-future tales from Mexico and Finland, as well as cyberpunk from South Africa. In this anthology one gets a glimpse of the complex and fascinating world of genre fiction—from all over our world.
Featuring work from noted international authors such as Will Elliot, Hannu Rajaniemi, Shweta Narayan, Lauren Beukes, Ekaterina Sedia, Nnedi Okorafor, and Andrzej Sapkowski.
dead from walking.” Nira and I look at each other. We know. Amaa does not get better, not properly. She forgets where she is. She forgets what she is doing. Now it is Amaa who must stay at home and be safe. So Ataa inks caste marks into Abjit’s forehead, and he starts running messages, though he limps. Nira and I teach my little sisters. We teach them the city and we teach them Hemal’s songs to find the way. And we teach them not to sing around Amaa. We keep the love songs and fishing songs
take that road to Shannon. Before they left, George and Myrtle said to look them up one day. I think we will. From the Lost Diary of TreeFrog7 Nnedi Okorafor Nnedi Okorafor was born in the United States to Nigerian Igbo parents. Her first novel, Zahrah the Windseeker, won the Wole Soyinka Prize and her second, The Shadow Speaker (set in Niger and Nigeria) won the Carl Brandon Society Parallax award. She has also won the Macmillan Writer’s Prize for Africa, for the children’s book Long Juju
wildly, with some experience you can distinguish between the ugly ones and the pretty ones, and this one would definitely have been considered pretty. If her grandmother had really signed the treaties, as she’d said, she might have been one of their aristocrats, the descendant of a ruling dynasty. It was evident that she could express herself. “Will you agree to have some coffee with me?” Field work often involves long hours of conversation. With time, I had got used to the physical proximity of
the Slows and, sometimes, when their suspicions subsided—when they accepted that I wasn’t a missionary in disguise—they told me important things. The new decree had put an end to my research, but I might still be able to write something about the reaction of the savages to the development. Attentiveness had become a habit with me and, besides, I was not yet capable of packing up the office. “Coffee,” I repeated. “Can I make some for you?” Since she didn’t answer and just stared at me with a
creatures, their muteness, their mindless appetites, their selfishness, their ignorance, their inability to act. It seemed that the most disgusting of traits were what inspired the most love in savage parents. The screeches stunned me. I was so riveted by the sight of that wriggling caterpillar that I almost missed the moment when the woman started talking again. “If we knew how much time was left for us…” So she didn’t know everything: the invasion would start that day; it might already have