By Elizabeth Hand
400 years after the 3rd Shining, Hobi, Reive, Tast'annin, and Nefertity arrange for the prophesied cave in of Araboth, the domed city-state possibly conserving its voters from the alleged horrors of the surface.
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Extra resources for Aestival Tide
If it's presentable, old man. ” “Of course not,” he said, revolted. “What do you take me for? She gave me two happy years, on and off, and I want to make an adequate return. ” “He's a small thing,” I said, holding up my thumb and fore-linger again. “Could he give her a perfect voice? For a time, anyway. ” Mortenson's suggestion sounded the gentlemanly thing to do. His ex-mistress sang cantatas at the local church, if that's the proper term. In those days I had quite an ear for music and would frequently go to these things (taking care to dodge the collection box, of course).
I said, and held out my hand for it, but he made no move to give it to me. “You'll want more copies,” he said. “No, I won't,” I said, looking over his shoulder. It was a remarkably clear photograph in brilliant color. Kevin O'Donnell was smiling, though I didn't remember such a smile at the time I snapped it. He seemed good-looking and cheerful, but I was rather indifferent to that. Perhaps a woman might observe more, or a man like my photographer friend — who, as it happened, did not have my firm grasp on masculinity — might do so.
Now when you tell a story, old man, the air of disbelief that descends upon the room is thick enough to cut with a chain saw, but it's not that way with me. There's nothing like a reputation for probity and an air of honest directness. His eyes glittered as I told him. He said could he arrange to give her something that I would ask for. “If it's presentable, old man. ” “Of course not,” he said, revolted. “What do you take me for? She gave me two happy years, on and off, and I want to make an adequate return.
Aestival Tide by Elizabeth Hand