Aliqa's mind has been erased, every memory lost to the endless
reticulations of the branes, but for one single word that haunts
her- Temetry.
With it comes an abiding hope for salvation, perhaps for the
salvation of every single Bell in Subsidence's ancient fleet, but
first she must hunt it down, though she doesn't even know what it
is.
The Bells of Subsidence tells 9 science fiction short stories
that chart the untamed outer fringe of existence, filled with
ruined intergalactic civilizations, lonely globe-roaming robots,
and a memetic virus locked that could destroy all things.
It features 4 stories previously published in professional
magazines: Clarkesworld, Andromeda Spaceways, Quantum Muse, and
Apocalypse Fiction.
Includes:
1) The Bells of Subsidence
2) Angel, I
3) The Giant Robot and the Myna Bird
4) Route 66
5) C22
6) Cullsman #9
7) Hunting Ground
8) The Blue Chipset and the Thing
9) Universal Time
Praise:
- ..". the images are striking and euphonious, ... and the story
is moving." - Lois Tilton, Locus Mag
- ..". beautifully written ... satisfying ... atmospheric ...
emotional ..." - Goodreads reviews
About the Author:
Michael John Grist is a 33-year old British writer, teacher, and
ruins photographer who lives in Tokyo, Japan. He runs a website
featuring his stories and photographs of ruin exploration-
www.michaeljohngrist.com
Excerpt:
The Bell is coming.
It's night, and I'm lying beside Temetry on a cold grey crater
of this world's endless desert, listening to the oscillations of
the Bell. At times we glimpse its Brilliance, the after-image of
its long and branic toll splashing across the plush black firmament
like an endless corolla borealis. I imagine it far overhead, arcing
through the universe, plancking the anthropic landscape from yoke
to clapper, and can think of only one word to describe it.
"Godly," I whisper.
Temetry nods by my side. He doesn't speak, not since the last
Bells came when we were babies, but I know what he's thinking. I'm
thinking it also.
"How are your non-orientable insects?" I ask.
He shrugs. This shrug means he's had no breakthroughs. I know
it, because he'd not be here with me if he had. The men of this
world would have taken him for the Gideon heat-sink long ago.
"I won't forget you," I say to him quietly.
He turns to me, and smiles, because he knows I cannot keep that
promise. The Bell is coming tonight. His hand worms the grey sand,
folds my fingers within his own, and I remember that he is the most
beautiful thing I have.
"I love you," I whisper to him. His fingers tighten, rippling
over mine in Euclidean gymnastics, until our hands are joined
partway between a reticulated conch shell and an intersecting Klein
bottle.
I laugh. It is our joke, a vestige of what Subsidence has
brought us both. We are only 11, and I love him, because I know in
my heart that he will never forget me.
"I'll whisper your name to the branes until I die," I promise
him, feeling the urgency of this moment, alone in this crater for
the last time.
His smile turns sad. It is the last abiding image I have of him,
because then comes the sound of old Ingen, and the moment is lost.
She is huffing and panting her rooty head over the crater-lip. This
place is no longer special or secret. Temetry's dazzling smile is
sad, forever, because I'll never see him again.
General
Imprint: |
Createspace Independent Publishing Platform
|
Country of origin: |
United States |
Release date: |
March 2014 |
First published: |
March 2014 |
Authors: |
Michael John Grist
|
Dimensions: |
229 x 152 x 6mm (L x W x T) |
Format: |
Paperback - Trade
|
Pages: |
102 |
ISBN-13: |
978-1-4961-1711-3 |
Categories: |
Books >
Fiction >
Genre fiction >
Science fiction
|
LSN: |
1-4961-1711-5 |
Barcode: |
9781496117113 |
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