By Robert Charles Wilson
Wildly praised by way of readers and critics alike, Robert Charles Wilson's Spin received technological know-how fiction's maximum honor, the Hugo Award for most sensible Novel.
Now, in Spin's direct sequel, Wilson takes us to the "world subsequent door"--the planet engineered by means of the mysterious Hypotheticals to help human existence, and attached to Earth when it comes to the Arch that towers enormous quantities of miles over the Indian Ocean. people are colonizing this new world--and, predictably, fiercely exploiting its assets, mainly huge deposits of oil within the western deserts of the continent of Equatoria.
Lise Adams is a tender girl trying to discover the secret of her father's disappearance ten years previous. Turk Findley is an ex-sailor and sometimes-drifter. they arrive jointly while an infall of cometary dirt seeds the planet with tiny remnant Hypothetical machines. quickly, this doubtless hospitable international becomes very alien indeed--as the character of time is once more twisted, by means of entities unknown.
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Extra resources for Axis
Alcott while in private I tried to learn more about this amazing new art I don't mean to imply that I spent much time on my back, sweating away for the mutual pleasure of Maureen and His Name Is Legion. Not in Lyle County, not in 1897. Too hard to find a place to do it! ' (Anon and op. ) And there was the problem of a satisfactory partner. Charles was a nice boy and I did offer him that encore, and even a third try at it for good measure. txt and third attempts were more comfortable but even less exciting – cold mush without sorghum and cream.
Father had me file each with its appropriate case record, but make no reply. Most of those seventy patients never showed up again. This was the good result Father expected. He was cheerful about it. 'Maureen, it's a standoff; they don't pay me and I don't do them much good. Iodine, calomel, and Aspirin – that's about all we have today that isn't a sugar pill. The only times I'm certain of results are when I deliver a baby or set a bone or cut off a leg. txt `But, damn it all, I'm doing the best I know how.
I tried to suppress it and hoped that Father would not notice it. Even at fifteen I was not naive about my unusual and possibly unhealthy relations with my father. As early as twelve I had had the desert-isle daydream with my father as the other castaway. But I also knew how strong the taboo was from the Bible, from classic literature, and from myth. And I remembered all too well how Father quit letting me sit on his lap, had stopped it completely and utterly, once I reached menarche. Father put on a pair of rubber gloves.