"Ian McDonald - The Best and the Rest of James Joyce" - читать интересную книгу автора (McDonald Ian)THE BEST AND THE REST OF JAMES
JOYCE By Ian McDonald British author Ian McDonald is an ambitious and daring writer with a wide range and an impressive amount of talent. His first story was published in 1982, and since then he has appeared with some frequency in Interzone, Isaac AsimovтАЩs Science Fiction Magazine, Zenith, Other Edens, Amazing, and elsewhere. He was nominated for the John W. Campbell Award in 1985, and in 1989 he won the Locus тАЬBest First NovelтАЭ Award for his Desolation Road. He won the Philip K. Dick Award in 1992 for his novel King of Morning, Queen of Day. His other books include the novel Out on Blue Six and a collection of his short fiction, Empire Dreams. His most recent books include a new novel, The Broken Land, and a new collection, Speaking in Tongues, as well as several graphic novels. He is at work on another new novel, tentatively entitled Necroville. Born in Manchester, England, in 1960, McDonald has spent most of his life in Northern Ireland, and now lives and works in Belfast. In the daring, playful, and lushly inventive story that follows, he gives us a look (or a succession of different looks) at a world-famous writer as youтАЩve never seen him beforeтАФin fact, as no oneтАЩs ever seen him before . . . **** Aboard His Britannic MajestyтАЩs air-dreadnought William and Mary as it leaves the Command Holdfast buried beneath the cratered mudscape once known as London in the one-hundred-and-first year of the war are 112 ratings, 66 officers, and six Van Loos, Marshall Valery-Petain, Director Ames, Sub-Academician Giorgio Joyce and his father, senior Acade-mician James Joyce. Reinforced concrete bombproof doors open as William and Mary rises cautiously, every sense tuned, toward the perpetual rainclouds that discharge their poisoned drizzle over the mudfields of Staines. Despite two atomic cannon, a complement of ten turret-mounted 18-inch guns and a veritable arsenal of lighter artillery and rocket racks, the artillerymen stand-ing by their weapons and the glider-marines ready at the launch tubes are nervous. They have heard stories of dirigibles, dreadnoughts even, surprised and destroyed attaining altitude by marauding Tsarist airships lying grounded, half buried in the mud. For the lynchpin of His MajestyтАЩs airfleet to lift unescorted, unprotected, into potentially hostile airspace . . . They have long suspected that the High Command locked up in their War Room half a mile under Command Holdfast have gone insane: now they have proof. But His MajestyтАЩs Air Lords need not justify, to the crew of William and Mary their decision that a lone dirigible might escape the attention a dreadnought with full escort would warrant. Their destination, the very fact that they are carrying passengers, have been kept secret from them. But seeing the cindered cities of the midlands slipping away far beneath their armoured glass observation bullтАЩs-eyes, they know that their course is northward. A combined services mission, perhaps, supporting the belea-guered 19th Army bogged down in melting permafrost north of Bergen, or a search-and-destroy mission on Tsarist submarine traffic across the Barents Sea. Maybe William and Mary has been sent to rendezvous with the remnant of the Royal Dutch Airfleet stationed at Scapa Flo Holdfast and destroy the Tsarist North |
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