Sailing to Byzantium Read online

Page 2


  He shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing in particular.”

  “I could see you seeing something.”

  “Byzantium,” he said. “I was imagining that I could look straight across the water to Byzantium. I was trying to get a glimpse of the walls of Constantinople.”

  “Oh, but you wouldn’t be able to see as far as that from here. Not really.”

  “I know.”

  “And anyway Byzantium doesn’t exist.”

  “Not yet. But it will. Its time comes later on.”

  “Does it?” she said. “Do you know that for a fact?”

  “On good authority. I heard it in Asgard,” he told her. “But even if I hadn’t, Byzantium would be inevitable, don’t you think? Its time would have to come. How could we not do Byzantium, Gioia? We certainly will do Byzantium, sooner or later. I know we will. It’s only a matter of time. And we have all the time in the world.”

  A shadow crossed her face. “Do we? Do we?”

  He knew very little about himself, but he knew that he was not one of them. That he knew. He knew that his name was Charles Phillips and that before he had come to live among these people he had lived in the year 1984, when there had been such things as computers and television sets and baseball and jet planes, and the world was full of cities, not merely five but thousands of them, New York and London and Johannesburg and Paris and Liverpool and Bangkok and San Francisco and Buenos Aires and a multitude of others, all at the same time. There had been four and a half billion people in the world then; now he doubted that there were as many as four and a half million. Nearly everything had changed beyond comprehension. The moon still seemed the same, and the sun; but at night he searched in vain for familiar constellations. He had no idea how they had brought him from then to now, or why. It did no good to ask. No one had any answers for him; no one so much as appeared to understand what it was that he was trying to learn. After a time he had stopped asking; after a time he had almost entirely ceased wanting to know.

  He and Gioia were climbing the Lighthouse. She scampered ahead, in a hurry as always, and he came along behind her in his more stolid fashion. Scores of other tourists, mostly in groups of two or three, were making their way up the wide flagstone ramps, laughing, calling to one another. Some of them, seeing him, stopped a moment, stared, pointed. He was used to that. He was so much taller than any of them; he was plainly not one of them. When they pointed at him he smiled. Sometimes he nodded a little acknowledgment.

  He could not find much of interest in the lowest level, a massive square structure two hundred feet high built of huge marble blocks: within its cool musty arcades were hundreds of small dark rooms, the offices of the Lighthouse’s keepers and mechanics, the barracks of the garrison, the stables for the three hundred donkeys that carried the fuel to the lantern far above. None of that appeared inviting to him. He forged onward without halting until he emerged on the balcony that led to the next level. Here the Lighthouse grew narrower and became octagonal: its face, granite now and handsomely fluted, rose in a stunning sweep above him.

  Gioia was waiting for him there. “This is for you,” she said, holding out a nugget of meat on a wooden skewer. “Roast lamb. Absolutely delicious. I had one while I was waiting for you.” She gave him a cup of some cool green sherbet also, and darted off to buy a pomegranate. Dozens of temporaries were roaming the balcony, selling refreshments of all kinds.

  He nibbled at the meat. It was charred outside, nicely pink and moist within. While he ate, one of the temporaries came up to him and peered blandly into his face. It was a stocky swarthy male wearing nothing but a strip of red and yellow cloth about its waist. “I sell meat,” it said. “Very fine roast lamb, only five drachmas.”

  Phillips indicated the piece he was eating. “I already have some,” he said.

  “It is excellent meat, very tender. It has been soaked for three days in the juices of—”

  “Please,” Phillips said. “I don’t want to buy any meat. Do you mind moving along?”

  The temporaries had confused and baffled him at first, and there was still much about them that was unclear to him. They were not machines—they looked like creatures of flesh and blood—but they did not seem to be human beings, either, and no one treated them as if they were. He supposed they were artificial constructs, products of a technology so consummate that it was invisible. Some appeared to be more intelligent than others, but all of them behaved as if they had no more autonomy than characters in a play, which was essentially what they were. There were untold numbers of them in each of the five cities, playing all manner of roles: shepherds and swineherds, street-sweepers, merchants, boatmen, vendors of grilled meats and cool drinks, hagglers in the marketplace, schoolchildren, charioteers, policemen, grooms, gladiators, monks, artisans, whores and cutpurses, sailors—whatever was needed to sustain the illusion of a thriving, populous urban center. The dark-eyed people, Gioia’s people, never performed work. There were not enough of them to keep a city’s functions going, and in any case they were strictly tourists, wandering with the wind, moving from city to city as the whim took them, Chang-an to New Chicago, New Chicago to Timbuctoo, Timbuctoo to Asgard, Asgard to Alexandria, onward, ever onward.

  The temporary would not leave him alone. Phillips walked away and it followed him, cornering him against the balcony wall. When Gioia returned a few minutes later, lips prettily stained with pomegranate juice, the temporary was still hovering about him, trying with lunatic persistence to sell him a skewer of lamb. It stood much too close to him, almost nose to nose, great sad cowlike eyes peering intently into his as it extolled with mournful mooing urgency the quality of its wares. It seemed to him that he had had trouble like this with temporaries on one or two earlier occasions. Gioia touched the creature’s elbow lightly and said, in a short sharp tone Phillips had never heard her use before, “He isn’t interested. Get away from him.” It went at once. To Phillips she said, “You have to be firm with them.”

  “I was trying. It wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “You ordered it to go away, and it refused?”

  “I asked it to go away. Politely. Too politely, maybe.”

  “Even so,” she said. “It should have obeyed a human, regardless.”

  “Maybe it didn’t think I was human,” Phillips suggested. “Because of the way I look. My height, the color of my eyes. It might have thought I was some kind of temporary myself.”

  “No,” Gioia said, frowning. “A temporary won’t solicit another temporary. But it won’t ever disobey a citizen, either. There’s a very clear boundary. There isn’t ever any confusion. I can’t understand why it went on bothering you.” He was surprised at how troubled she seemed: far more so, he thought, than the incident warranted. A stupid device, perhaps miscalibrated in some way, overenthusiastically pushing its wares—what of it? What of it? Gioia, after a moment, appeared to come to the same conclusion. Shrugging, she said, “It’s defective, I suppose. Probably such things are more common than we suspect, don’t you think?” There was something forced about her tone that bothered him. She smiled and handed him her pomegranate. “Here. Have a bite, Charles. It’s wonderfully sweet. They used to be extinct, you know. Shall we go on upward?”

  The octagonal midsection of the Lighthouse must have been several hundred feet in height, a grim claustrophobic tube almost entirely filled by the two broad spiraling ramps that wound around the huge building’s central well. The ascent was slow: a donkey team was a little way ahead of them on the ramp, plodding along laden with bundles of kindling for the lantern. But at last, just as Phillips was growing winded and dizzy, he and Gioia came out onto the second balcony, the one marking the transition between the octagonal section and the Lighthouse’s uppermost story, which was cylindrical and very slender.

  She leaned far out over the balustrade. “Oh, Charles, look at the view! Look at it!”

  It was amazing. From one side they could see
the entire city, and swampy Lake Mareotis and the dusty Egyptian plain beyond it, and from the other they peered far out into the gray and choppy Mediterranean. He gestured toward the innumerable reefs and shallows that infested the waters leading to the harbor entrance. “No wonder they needed a lighthouse here,” he said. “Without some kind of gigantic landmark they’d never have found their way in from the open sea.”

  A blast of sound, a ferocious snort, erupted just above him. He looked up, startled. Immense statues of trumpet-wielding Tritons jutted from the corners of the Lighthouse at this level; that great blurting sound had come from the nearest of them. A signal, he thought. A warning to the ships negotiating that troubled passage. The sound was produced by some kind of steam-powered mechanism, he realized, operated by teams of sweating temporaries clustered about bonfires at the base of each Triton.

  Once again he found himself swept by admiration for the clever way these people carried out their reproductions of antiquity. Or were they reproductions, he wondered? He still did not understand how they brought their cities into being. For all he knew, this place was the authentic Alexandria itself, pulled forward out of its proper time just as he himself had been. Perhaps this was the true and original Lighthouse, and not a copy. He had no idea which was the case, nor which would be the greater miracle.

  “How do we get to the top?” Gioia asked.

  “Over there, I think. That doorway.”

  The spiraling donkey-ramps ended here. The loads of lantern fuel went higher via a dumbwaiter in the central shaft. Visitors continued by way of a cramped staircase, so narrow at its upper end that it was impossible to turn around while climbing. Gioia, tireless, sprinted ahead. He clung to the rail and labored up and up, keeping count of the tiny window slits to ease the boredom of the ascent. The count was nearing a hundred when finally he stumbled into the vestibule of the beacon chamber. A dozen or so visitors were crowded into it. Gioia was at the far side, by the wall that was open to the sea.

  It seemed to him he could feel the building swaying in the winds up here. How high were they? Five hundred feet, six hundred, seven? The beacon chamber was tall and narrow, divided by a catwalk into upper and lower sections. Down below, relays of temporaries carried wood from the dumbwaiter and tossed it on the blazing fire. He felt its intense heat from where he stood, at the rim of the platform on which the giant mirror of polished metal was hung. Tongues of flame leaped upward and danced before the mirror, which hurled its dazzling beam far out to sea. Smoke rose through a vent. At the very top was a colossal statue of Poseidon, austere, ferocious, looming above the lantern.

  Gioia sidled along the catwalk until she was at his side. “The guide was talking before you came,” she said, pointing. “Do you see that place over there, under the mirror? Someone standing there and looking into the mirror gets a view of ships at sea that can’t be seen from here by the naked eye. The mirror magnifies things.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  She nodded toward the guide. “It said so. And it also told us that if you look in a certain way, you can see right across the water into the city of Constantinople.”

  She is like a child, he thought. They all are. He said, “You told me yourself this very morning that it isn’t possible to see that far. Besides, Constantinople doesn’t exist right now.”

  “It will,” she replied. “You said that to me, this very morning. And when it does, it’ll be reflected in the Lighthouse mirror. That’s the truth. I’m absolutely certain of it.” She swung about abruptly toward the entrance of the beacon chamber. “Oh, look, Charles! Here come Nissandra and Aramayne! And there’s Hawk! There’s Stengard!” Gioia laughed and waved and called out names. “Oh, everyone’s here! Everyone!”

  They came jostling into the room, so many newcomers that some of those who had been there were forced to scramble down the steps on the far side. Gioia moved among them, hugging, kissing. Phillips could scarcely tell one from another—it was hard for him even to tell which were the men and which the women, dressed as they all were in the same sort of loose robes—but he recognized some of the names. These were her special friends, her set, with whom she had journeyed from city to city on an endless round of gaiety in the old days before he had come into her life. He had met a few of them before, in Asgard, in Rio, in Rome. The beacon-chamber guide, a squat wide-shouldered old temporary wearing a laurel wreath on its bald head, reappeared and began its potted speech, but no one listened to it; they were all too busy greeting one another, embracing, giggling. Some of them edged their way over to Phillips and reached up, standing on tiptoes, to touch their fingertips to his cheek in that odd hello of theirs. “Charles,” they said gravely, making two syllables out of the name, as these people often did. “So good to see you again. Such a pleasure. You and Gioia—such a handsome couple. So well suited to each other.”

  Was that so? He supposed it was.

  The chamber hummed with chatter. The guide could not be heard at all. Stengard and Nissandra had visited New Chicago for the water-dancing—Aramayne bore tales of a feast in Chang-an that had gone on for days—Hawk and Hekna had been to Timbuctoo to see the arrival of the salt caravan, and were going back there soon—a final party soon to celebrate the end of Asgard that absolutely should not be missed—the plans for the new city, Mohenjo-daro—we have reservations for the opening, we wouldn’t pass it up for anything—and, yes, they were definitely going to do Constantinople after that, the planners were already deep into their Byzantium research—so good to see you, you look so beautiful all the time—have you been to the Library yet? The zoo? To the temple of Serapis?—

  To Phillips they said, “What do you think of our Alexandria, Charles? Of course, you must have known it well in your day. Does it look the way you remember it?” They were always asking things like that. They did not seem to comprehend that the Alexandria of the Lighthouse and the Library was long lost and legendary by the time his twentieth century had been. To them, he suspected, all the places they had brought back into existence were more or less contemporary. Rome of the Caesars, Alexandria of the Ptolemies, Venice of the Doges, Chang-an of the T’angs, Asgard of the Aesir, none any less real than the next nor any less unreal, each one simply a facet of the distant past, the fantastic immemorial past, a plum plucked from that dark backward abysm of time. They had no contexts for separating one era from another. To them all the past was one borderless timeless realm. Why, then, should he not have seen the Lighthouse before, he who had leaped into this era from the New York of 1984? He had never been able to explain it to them. Julius Caesar and Hannibal, Helen of Troy and Charlemagne, Rome of the gladiators and New York of the Yankees and Mets, Gilgamesh and Tristan and Othello and Robin Hood and George Washington and Queen Victoria—to them, all equally real and unreal, none of them any more than bright figures moving about on a painted canvas. The past, the past, the elusive and fluid past—to them it was a single place of infinite accessibility and infinite connectivity. Of course, they would think he had seen the Lighthouse before. He knew better than to try again to explain things. “No,” he said simply. “This is my first time in Alexandria.”

  They stayed there all winter long, and possibly some of the spring. Alexandria was not a place where one was sharply aware of the change of seasons, nor did the passage of time itself make itself very evident when one was living one’s entire life as a tourist.

  During the day there was always something new to see. The zoological garden, for instance: a wondrous park, miraculously green and lush in this hot dry climate, where astounding animals roamed in enclosures so generous that they did not seem like enclosures at all. Here were camels, rhinoceroses, gazelles, ostriches, lions, wild asses; and here, too, casually adjacent to those familiar African beasts, were hippogriffs, unicorns, basilisks, and fire-snorting dragons with rainbow scales. Had the original zoo of Alexandria had dragons and unicorns? Phillips doubted it. But this one did; evidently it was no harder for the backstage craftsmen to manufactur
e mythic beasts than it was for them to turn out camels and gazelles. To Gioia and her friends all of them were equally mythical, anyway. They were just as awed by the rhinoceros as by the hippogriff. One was no more strange—or any less—than the other. So far as Phillips had been able to discover, none of the mammals or birds of his era had survived into this one except for a few cats and dogs, though many had been reconstructed.

  And then the Library! All those lost treasures, reclaimed from the jaws of time! Stupendous columned marble walls, airy high-vaulted reading rooms, dark coiling stacks stretching away to infinity. The ivory handles of seven hundred thousand papyrus scrolls bristling on the shelves. Scholars and librarians gliding quietly about, smiling faint scholarly smiles but plainly preoccupied with serious matters of the mind. They were all temporaries, Phillips realized. Mere props, part of the illusion. But were the scrolls illusions, too? “Here we have the complete dramas of Sophocles,” said the guide with a blithe wave of its hand, indicating shelf upon shelf of texts. Only seven of his hundred twenty-three plays had survived the successive burnings of the library in ancient times by Romans, Christians, Arabs: were the lost ones here, the Triptolemus, the Nausicaa, the Jason, and all the rest? And would he find here, too, miraculously restored to being, the other vanished treasures of ancient literature—the memoirs of Odysseus, Cato’s history of Rome, Thucidydes’ life of Pericles, the missing volumes of Livy? But when he asked if he might explore the stacks, the guide smiled apologetically and said that all the librarians were busy just now. Another time, perhaps? Perhaps, said the guide. It made no difference, Phillips decided. Even if these people somehow had brought back those lost masterpieces of antiquity, how would he read them? He knew no Greek.

  The life of the city buzzed and throbbed about him. It was a dazzlingly beautiful place: the vast bay thick with sails, the great avenues running rigidly east-west, north-south, the sunlight rebounding almost audibly from the bright walls of the palaces of kings and gods. They have done this very well, Phillips thought: very well indeed. In the marketplace hard-eyed traders squabbled in half a dozen mysterious languages over the price of ebony, Arabian incense, jade, panther skins. Gioia bought a dram of pale musky Egyptian perfume in a delicate tapering glass flask. Magicians and jugglers and scribes called out stridently to passersby, begging for a few moments of attention and a handful of coins for their labor. Strapping slaves, black and tawny and some that might have been Chinese, were put up for auction, made to flex their muscles, to bare their teeth, to bare their breasts and thighs to prospective buyers. In the gymnasium naked athletes hurled javelins and discuses, and wrestled with terrifying zeal. Gioia’s friend Stengard came rushing up with a gift for her, a golden necklace that would not have embarrassed Cleopatra. An hour later she had lost it, or perhaps had given it away while Phillips was looking elsewhere. She bought another, even finer, the next day. Anyone could have all the money he wanted, simply by asking: it was as easy to come by as air for these people.

 

    The Longest Way Home Read onlineThe Longest Way HomeHawksbill Station Read onlineHawksbill StationA Time of Changes Read onlineA Time of ChangesThis Way to the End Times: Classic Tales of the Apocalypse Read onlineThis Way to the End Times: Classic Tales of the ApocalypseBeyond the Gate of Worlds Read onlineBeyond the Gate of WorldsLord Valentine's Castle Read onlineLord Valentine's CastleThe Man in the Maze Read onlineThe Man in the MazeTales of Majipoor Read onlineTales of MajipoorTime of the Great Freeze Read onlineTime of the Great FreezeThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 3: Something Wild Is Loose: 1969-72 Read onlineThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 3: Something Wild Is Loose: 1969-72Planet of Death Read onlinePlanet of DeathTrips: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume Four Read onlineTrips: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume FourIn the Beginning: Tales From the Pulp Era Read onlineIn the Beginning: Tales From the Pulp EraHot Sky at Midnight Read onlineHot Sky at MidnightValentine Pontifex Read onlineValentine PontifexUp the Line Read onlineUp the LineThorns Read onlineThornsAmanda and the Alien Read onlineAmanda and the AlienStar of Gypsies Read onlineStar of GypsiesNightwings Read onlineNightwingsThe Time Hoppers Read onlineThe Time HoppersBlood on the Mink Read onlineBlood on the MinkDying Inside Read onlineDying InsideThe Last Song of Orpheus Read onlineThe Last Song of OrpheusThe King of Dreams Read onlineThe King of DreamsThe Stochastic Man Read onlineThe Stochastic ManThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume Seven: We Are for the Dark Read onlineThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume Seven: We Are for the DarkThe Millennium Express: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume Nine Read onlineThe Millennium Express: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume NineThe Iron Chancellor Read onlineThe Iron ChancellorLord Prestimion Read onlineLord PrestimionTo Open the Sky Read onlineTo Open the SkyThe World Inside Read onlineThe World InsideChains of the Sea Read onlineChains of the SeaThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume Five: The Palace at Midnight Read onlineThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume Five: The Palace at MidnightPostmark Ganymede Read onlinePostmark GanymedeThe Second Trip Read onlineThe Second TripThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 4: Trips: 1972-73 Read onlineThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 4: Trips: 1972-73Son of Man Read onlineSon of ManTom O'Bedlam Read onlineTom O'BedlamTo the Land of the Living Read onlineTo the Land of the LivingTo Be Continued: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume One Read onlineTo Be Continued: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume OneShadrach in the Furnace Read onlineShadrach in the FurnaceThe Chalice of Death: Three Novels of Mystery in Space Read onlineThe Chalice of Death: Three Novels of Mystery in SpaceThe Queen of Springtime Read onlineThe Queen of SpringtimeTo Be Continued 1953-1958 Read onlineTo Be Continued 1953-1958Legends Read onlineLegendsRoma Eterna Read onlineRoma EternaTo Live Again Read onlineTo Live AgainAt Winter's End Read onlineAt Winter's EndNeedle in a Timestack Read onlineNeedle in a TimestackTo Live Again and the Second Trip: The Complete Novels Read onlineTo Live Again and the Second Trip: The Complete NovelsLord of Darkness Read onlineLord of DarknessThe Mountains of Majipoor Read onlineThe Mountains of MajipoorThe World Outside Read onlineThe World OutsideThe Alien Years Read onlineThe Alien YearsThe Book of Skulls Read onlineThe Book of SkullsThe Face of the Waters Read onlineThe Face of the WatersGilgamesh the King Read onlineGilgamesh the KingThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 6: Multiples: 1983-87 Read onlineThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 6: Multiples: 1983-87The Happy Unfortunate Read onlineThe Happy UnfortunateThree Survived Read onlineThree SurvivedCronos Read onlineCronosTower of Glass Read onlineTower of GlassLegends II Read onlineLegends IIThe Planet Killers Read onlineThe Planet KillersThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 2: To the Dark Star: 1962-69 Read onlineThe Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 2: To the Dark Star: 1962-69Downward to the Earth Read onlineDownward to the EarthLord Valentine's Castle: Book One of the Majipoor Cycle Read onlineLord Valentine's Castle: Book One of the Majipoor CycleHot Times in Magma City, 1990-95 Read onlineHot Times in Magma City, 1990-95Hunt the Space-Witch! Seven Adventures in Time and Space Read onlineHunt the Space-Witch! Seven Adventures in Time and SpaceMajipoor Chronicles Read onlineMajipoor ChroniclesThe Robert Silverberg Science Fiction Megapack(r) Read onlineThe Robert Silverberg Science Fiction Megapack(r)Starman's Quest Read onlineStarman's QuestCar Sinister Read onlineCar SinisterWorlds of Maybe Read onlineWorlds of MaybeFantasy The Best of 2001 Read onlineFantasy The Best of 2001Revolt on Alpha C Read onlineRevolt on Alpha CHomefaring Read onlineHomefaringThe Pardoner's Tale Read onlineThe Pardoner's TaleSailing to Byzantium - Six Novellas Read onlineSailing to Byzantium - Six NovellasThe Chalice of Death Read onlineThe Chalice of DeathSundance Read onlineSundanceA Tip on a Turtle Read onlineA Tip on a TurtleNebula Awards Showcase 2001: The Year's Best SF and Fantasy Chosen by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America Read onlineNebula Awards Showcase 2001: The Year's Best SF and Fantasy Chosen by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of AmericaThe Fangs of the Trees Read onlineThe Fangs of the TreesThe Palace at Midnight: The Collected Work of Robert Silverberg, Volume Five Read onlineThe Palace at Midnight: The Collected Work of Robert Silverberg, Volume FiveThe Millennium Express - 1995-2009 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume Nine Read onlineThe Millennium Express - 1995-2009 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume NineBook of Skulls Read onlineBook of SkullsPassengers Read onlinePassengersSomething Wild is Loose - 1969–72 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume Three Read onlineSomething Wild is Loose - 1969–72 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume ThreeMultiples Read onlineMultiplesStarborne Read onlineStarborneThe Masks of Time Read onlineThe Masks of TimeThe Mountains of Majipoor m-8 Read onlineThe Mountains of Majipoor m-8Multiples (1983-87) Read onlineMultiples (1983-87)Those Who Watch Read onlineThose Who WatchIn the Beginning Read onlineIn the BeginningEarth Is The Strangest Planet Read onlineEarth Is The Strangest PlanetCollision Course Read onlineCollision CourseNeutral Planet Read onlineNeutral PlanetTo the Dark Star - 1962–69 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume Two Read onlineTo the Dark Star - 1962–69 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume TwoMutants Read onlineMutantsSailing to Byzantium Read onlineSailing to ByzantiumWhen We Went to See the End of the World Read onlineWhen We Went to See the End of the WorldRobert Silverberg The Science Fiction Hall Of Fame Volume One, 1929-1964 Read onlineRobert Silverberg The Science Fiction Hall Of Fame Volume One, 1929-1964To Be Continued - 1953–58 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume One Read onlineTo Be Continued - 1953–58 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume OneValentine Pontifex m-3 Read onlineValentine Pontifex m-3Gianni Read onlineGianniMajipoor Chronicles m-2 Read onlineMajipoor Chronicles m-2We Are for the Dark (1987-90) Read onlineWe Are for the Dark (1987-90)Waiting for the Earthquake Read onlineWaiting for the EarthquakeFantasy: The Best of 2001 Read onlineFantasy: The Best of 2001How It Was When the Past Went Away Read onlineHow It Was When the Past Went AwayBeauty in the Night Read onlineBeauty in the NightThe Man Who Never Forgot Read onlineThe Man Who Never ForgotThe Book of Changes m-9 Read onlineThe Book of Changes m-9Lord Valentine's Castle m-1 Read onlineLord Valentine's Castle m-1This Way to the End Times Read onlineThis Way to the End TimesQueen of Springtime Read onlineQueen of SpringtimeLegends-Volume 3 Stories by the Masters of Modern Fantasy Read onlineLegends-Volume 3 Stories by the Masters of Modern FantasyThe Palace at Midnight - 1980–82 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume Five Read onlineThe Palace at Midnight - 1980–82 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume FiveSomething Wild is Loose: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume Three Read onlineSomething Wild is Loose: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume ThreeMultiples - 1983–87 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume Six Read onlineMultiples - 1983–87 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume SixAlaree Read onlineAlareeThree Survived: A Science Fiction Novel Read onlineThree Survived: A Science Fiction NovelDefenders of the Frontier Read onlineDefenders of the FrontierThe New Springtime Read onlineThe New SpringtimeWe Are for the Dark - 1987–90 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume Seven Read onlineWe Are for the Dark - 1987–90 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume SevenThe Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One 1929-1964--The Greatest Science Fiction Stories of All Time Chosen by the Members of the Science Fiction Writers of America Read onlineThe Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One 1929-1964--The Greatest Science Fiction Stories of All Time Chosen by the Members of the Science Fiction Writers of AmericaMaster Of Life And Death Read onlineMaster Of Life And DeathChoke Chain Read onlineChoke ChainSorcerers of Majipoor m-4 Read onlineSorcerers of Majipoor m-4Absolutely Inflexible Read onlineAbsolutely InflexibleTrips - 1962–73 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume Four Read onlineTrips - 1962–73 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume FourHot Times in Magma City - 1990-95 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume Eight Read onlineHot Times in Magma City - 1990-95 - The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg Volume EightFar Horizons Read onlineFar HorizonsThe Queen of Springtime ns-2 Read onlineThe Queen of Springtime ns-2The Seventh Science Fiction Megapack Read onlineThe Seventh Science Fiction MegapackInvaders From Earth Read onlineInvaders From EarthHanosz Prime Goes To Old Earth Read onlineHanosz Prime Goes To Old EarthThe Macauley Circuit Read onlineThe Macauley CircuitScience Fiction: The Best of 2001 Read onlineScience Fiction: The Best of 2001To the Dark Star: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume Two Read onlineTo the Dark Star: The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume TwoStochastic Man Read onlineStochastic ManLegends: Stories By The Masters of Modern Fantasy Read onlineLegends: Stories By The Masters of Modern FantasyTo Live Again And The Second Trip Read onlineTo Live Again And The Second TripFlies Read onlineFliesThe Silent Invaders Read onlineThe Silent InvadersShip-Sister, Star-Sister Read onlineShip-Sister, Star-Sister