Short Fiction by Mack Reynolds (ready to read books .TXT) 📕
Description
Dallas McCord “Mack” Reynolds was an American science fiction writer who authored almost two hundred short stories and novellas, was a staple in all the major science fiction and fantasy magazines and published dozens of science fiction novels. He began his writing career in the late 1940s. His fiction focused on exploring and challenging both the socioeconomic themes of the day and the implications of the Cold War that raged throughout his career. A thoughtful writer of speculative fiction, many of Mack Reynolds’ predictions have come to pass, including the credit-card economy, remote warfare and a worldwide computer network. His thoughts about the outcomes of both the Soviet and western political and economic systems are still highly relevant.
This collection gathers stories that were published in Analog, Astounding Science Fiction, Amazing Stories and others. Ordered by date of first publication, they range from spy adventures to the ultimate expression of corporate warfare and from a very short 1000-word story to full-blown novellas.
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- Author: Mack Reynolds
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“He seems to be quite a character,” I said, only half-interested.
“Sure,” Sam said. “Haven’t you heard about Joseph? He’s immortal.”
“What?” I said, startled.
“Immortal. You know, he lives forever.” He poured me another brandy and leaned on the bar. His other customers had left and he was obviously in the mood for talking.
“I thought everybody knew about Joseph,” he went on. “He was one of the first spacebarons, a real bigshot, controlled the whole of Calypso; him and his brother. They not only personally owned all of the satellite, but even all of the space lines that served it. When it came to law there, he was judge, jury, and owner of the courthouse and jail. Brother, that was one monopoly.”
“You mean that old man that was just here?” I said in amazement.
“That’s right. Joseph, we call him now. He probably had a longer name then. It was a long time ago.
“Anyway, to get back to the story, one day a space liner radios in that it wants to make an emergency landing on Calypso for medical assistance. They had some virulent disease on board and the passengers and crew were dying like flies.
“Well, this brother of Joseph, Micheal, or something like that his name was, advises Joseph not to give them permission to land. The captain of the liner pleads with him, but Joseph tells him to move on, he doesn’t want to take any chances. The ship tried to make the next port, I forget just what it was, but, anyway, to cut it short, they all died. That’s what started things churning in Joseph’s bailiwick; a full-scale revolution, no less.”
“You missed something there,” I said. “The people wouldn’t have been expected to be so upset. After all, no matter how mistaken, he must have thought he was acting in the interests of everyone on Calypso.”
“Yeah,” Sam pointed out, “but the thing is that among the passengers was Joseph’s own boy, the most popular person on the satellite and the apple of his old man’s eye. Nobody had known it, but the kid was playing hookey from his school on Terra and was making a cruise of the Jupiter moons.
“Joseph himself had never been very popular with his people, neither had this younger brother of his, Micheal. Too strict, see. But everybody liked the boy and were looking forward to the day when he’d take over the reins of government. When it came out what happened, they went berserk. They cornered Joseph and Micheal and a dozen or so of their close associates in the palace, which was actually more of a fortress than anything else.”
Sam wiped the bar again without need, and said reflectively, “It must’ve been quite a fight. Not that Joseph himself participated. The boy had been his whole life, and he just moved around like he was in a trance.
“They threw everything at that palace. Every weapon, every device, that had been thought up for centuries; but it didn’t crack. Finally, the fight was ended by a fleet of battle cruisers from Terra. Joseph and Micheal and the rest were removed and brought here to Mars. None of them dared to remain on Calypso.”
I poured myself another brandy from the bottle that Sam had left on the bar. “You make quite a story of it,” I told him, “but you didn’t tell me what you’d started to—about the immortality.”
“Yeah,” he said, “that’s right. Well, it seems that in the atomic bombardment of the palace something happened that wound up with Joseph and his friends all immortal. Don’t ask me what; I don’t know and neither did these scientist guys when they tried to figure it out. Of course, it didn’t become known for years; not until it became obvious they weren’t dying, or even aging. They continued to appear as they had at the time of the fight. I don’t mean they couldn’t die at all; one by one they dropped away. Two were lost in space; one was blown up in an explosion on Terra; another was burned to death; but the only way they could die was through accident—or suicide. After a few hundred years they were all gone but Joseph, and, of course, he’d gone batty.”
I interrupted. “You mean he’s insane?”
The bartender grinned. “Crazy as a makron.”
I said slowly, “He seemed normal enough to me. Uh … perhaps a bit eccentric.”
Sam said, “Brother, he’s as far around the corner as you can get. You know what he thinks? He thinks that he’s wandering through space, going from planet to planet, trying to find a situation similar to that in which he sent away the person he loved most to his death. He thinks that if he ever finds that similar situation, he’ll be able to make the opposite decision from the one he made before and that will redeem him.”
I frowned. “Where does he get the money for his wandering around the planets?”
“He don’t need no money. He’s good luck. There’s not a captain in the system that would refuse free passage to old Joseph.” Sam shrugged his beefy shoulders. “And who am I to say otherwise? That’s why I give the bums free drinks when he’s around; so does every other bartender.”
Two customers had entered and Sam made his way down to them, leaving me alone.
A halftripper scurried through the door and cringed up to me. He whimpered, “How about a drink, spaceman? I. …”
I flipped him a coin. “Sure, buddy,” I said, repressing my usual nausea at the sight of him. I got down from my stool and made my way out. It was time for me to return to the spaceport and my job.
I suppose that I forgot to tell the cabbie to take me to the administration building entrance—the first time I’d made that mistake in years. I was
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