Russian Science Fiction: An Anthology
Robert Magidoff, Alexander Belyaev, Victor Saparin, E. Zelikovich, Vadim Okhotnikov, Ivan Yefremov, Mikhail Vasilyev, Anatoly Dn
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collection of Russian science fiction compiled with introduction by Robert Magidoff, translated by Doris Johnson
a selection of science fiction from the Soviet era, from early experiments in the form in the early 20th century up through the 1960s. the authors are all listed in the author field above. i would assume i am not the only one to see some unfamiliar names in that bunch...
the creatures inhabiting outer space, but not to those who have had the misfortune to live under capitalism, as the reader of Cor Serpentis w ill learn. A major theme in Soviet science fiction, as in all Soviet literature, is the glorification of teamwork, of what the Russians term collec tive effort. In it lies, they claim, the secret of creative accomplish ment and of the selflessness that changes man from a creature ii Russian Science Fiction distorted by the individualism rampant in
see all kinds of weird things. We can’t go on.’ ‘Nonsense! ’ the senior driver answered angrily. ‘I know dust can produce mirages, but to say you can’t drive because of them— ’ T r y it yourself. I’ll go first!’ The Dinosaur’s driver was offended. ‘All right, go ahead,’ the senior driver agreed sullenly. They got back into the trucks and started the motors. The Dino saur, its canvas top swaying, passed the Lightning slowly and, picking up speed, disappeared in a cloud of dust. The Lightning’s
up, and they had to begin using the emergency supply. But what about water for the return trip? They would have to drop 73 Russian Science Fiction everything and travel 125 miles to the east where there were good wells. But if they did that, there wouldn’t be enough fuel for the trip to the home base. Stunned by this unexpected blow, Nikitin keenly felt his helpless ness before unpitying nature. What could he, and all his splendidly equipped expedition, do without water? Where would they get
returned to the trucks almost at a run. Coming up to the Lightning, he again caught sight of Miriam. She was standing motionless by the Destroyer, staring at the entrance to the gorge. This was the last impression which he took with him from the m ystifying Arkarla mountains. ‘Let’s g o !’ he shouted, and slammed the door of the truck. He began to watch the sparks of gypsum flashing under the truck wheels in the valley of the dinosaurs. A cold, gloomy light was fading rapidly in the leaden sky.
behind the wall beyond the partition. It was like somebody being tortured. Crumpling the sheets with m y problem, the young man, throwing a side glance and seiz ing me by the hand, dragged me to the exit. ‘What was that?’ I asked, panting. ‘You’ll have the solution the day after tomorrow, at twelve. You’ll pay the bearer.’ With those words he left me by m y taxi. (3) It is hardly necessary to say that after this event my peace of mind was completely gone. Not for one moment could I forget that