The Time Traveller's Almanac: The Ultimate Treasury of Time Travel Fiction - Brought to You from the Future
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THE TIME TRAVELER'S ALMANAC is the largest, most definitive collection of time travel stories ever assembled. Gathered into one volume by intrepid chrononauts and world-renowned anthologists Ann and Jeff VanderMeer, here is over a century's worth of literary travels into past and the future. The anthology covers millions of years of Earth's history – from the age of the dinosaurs to strange and fascinating futures, through to the end of Time itself. The Time Traveler's Almanac will reacquaint readers with beloved classics and introduce them to thrilling contemporary examples of the time travel genre.
THE TIME TRAVELER'S ALMANAC includes stories from Douglas Adams, Isaac Asmiov, Ray Bradbury, William Gibson, George RR Martin, Ursula K. Le Guin, Michael Moorcock and, of course, HG Wells.
out a mite. “Yeah,” Estelle agreed dreamily, “exploring.” “Well, I’m going out,” Ma said. And without so much as a second glance or a pause to allow someone to talk her out of it, she rested the empty plate on the counter-top and strode over to the door. A minute or so later she was walking across the street. It seemed like the things had sensed she was going to come out because they’d moved across the street like to greet her, swivelling around at the last minute – just as Ma came to a stop –
on you. It’s just a fact. Humans can’t wrap their heads around time travel, and it’s not a software thing. It’s hardware. Our brains just don’t get it. Not yet. Maybe someday. But that will take, for lack of a better word, time. We could evolve, as a species, but that would require a selection pressure, some environmental advantage for minds unburdened by the illusion of temporal sequence, of the notion of cause and effect. But that’s not what we have. What we have is the opposite. What we have
the future, perhaps some other ship to be named Hesperia, one not yet even built. The rigid laws of relativity mean that a wormhole pierces not space alone, but also time. Half of the job of a navigator, Daryn had explained to her once – and the most important half at that – came in making sure that the ship sailed to the right when as well as to the right where. Sailing a Cauchy loop would rip the ship apart; it was the navigator’s calculation to make sure the ship never entered its own past,
course of previous events, but to come back at all is difficult for even the most experienced; to make a prolonged stay has been proved impossible. Half-an-hour with a relative or a loved one, a short account to an auditor, such as myself, of life, say, in the 75th century, a glimpse at an artefact allowed to some interested scientist – these are the best the time traveller can hope for, once he has made his decision to leap into the mysterious future. As a consequence our knowledge of the
it isn’t much of a downside.” “Isn’t it?” The kid’s giving him that dead-eyed stare in the rearview. “In my book selling out all your values isn’t such a small price to pay. Or is it your own glued-down money you’ve been stealing? You have been stealing, haven’t you?” Ernie feels his cheeks flush. Better than those other guys. That’s what Janine always said. I guess she was wrong, Ernie thinks. I guess we were both wrong. That doesn’t sit well with Ernie, so he does what he always does when it