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equences of early theory. Pilots didn't go back in time, didn't show up younger than a twin brother. The ship simply became invisible as it moved faster than the light around it.It was just a matter of propulsion. Find a way to increase energy and you keep breaking speed records. That was the key to the Boscon Prop. Ironically, Boscon's basic principles dated back to the invention of the wheel. In watching a simple spinning disk, Boscon understood that the number of rotations was the constant

dded at Sandon, a gesture Sandon politely returned.He had only ever seen the younger Ka Vail boy from a distance. Up close, Jarid Ka Vail had much of his father's looks: the hooded gray eyes, the high cheekbones, and the thin lips. His mouth betrayed a slight arrogance. Sandon graced him with a polite smile. "So, what news? How are the preparations going?" asked Ka Vail, looking back up at his son. "We've started to pull in the groundcars from the farms and the communications

al stereotype, and all the history books have been altered to make it seem forever-so. I suppose it's an attempt to make things less confusing for children.Of all the stories, the most inflated was the biography of Benjamin Franklin. I refused to believe that any one individual could be responsible for inventions ranging from the light-bulb to electricity to the concept of yellow. There had to be some distortion in there somewhere. But as I sat alone in my bed, reading over all those great

buying mareridtbane for 800 gold per plant. His initial reccy had netted him five plants. That brought the total expected take from the dungeon up to 4,400 gold for 20 minutes, or 13,200 gold per hour -- which, at the day's exchange, was worth about $30, or 285 Renminbi.Which was -- he thought for a second -- more than 71 bowls of dumplings. Jackpot. His hands flew over the mice, taking direct control over the squad. He'd work out the optimal path through the dungeon now, then head out to the

ecrets.After all, Theseus damn well was. * She'd taken us a good fifteen AUs towards our destination before something scared her off course. Then she'd skidded north like a startled cat and started climbing: a wild high three-gee burn off the ecliptic, thirteen hundred tonnes of momentum bucking against Newton's First. She'd emptied her Penn tanks, bled dry her substrate mass, squandered a hundred forty days' of fuel in hours. Then a long cold coast through the abyss, years of stingy

parody of bacterial plasmid exchange, so fast that, by the time the windfall tax demands are served, the targets don't exist anymore, even though the same staff are working on the same software in the same Mumbai cubicle farms.Welcome to the twenty-first century. The permanent floating meatspace party Manfred is hooking up with is a strange attractor for some of the American exiles cluttering up the cities of Europe this decade - not trustafarians, but honest-to-God political dissidents, draft