The idea is peace on Earth, see, and the way to do it is by figuring out angles.

    He was afraid of the thing tagged Reed Kieran, that stiff blind voiceless thing wheeling its slow orbit around the Moon, companion to dead worlds and silent space. . . .Hamilton was a thoughtful SF writer, and you can surely see that here: this is the tale of a man dead in space for centuries -- and revived by folks who approach an alien world a lot the way out nuttier environmentalists approach the defense of trees. There are creatures on this alien world, see, that look like people -- and act like chimpanzees. But chimps are animals, aren't they? "Aren't they. . . ?"

    and so, they knew, were the Aliens. When two expanding empires meet... war is inevitable. Or is it...?

    Born in 1921, he began his career in the Golden Age of SF in the 1950s, and was a regular contributor to Astounding SF magazine (later Analog SF) edited by John W. Campbell. His work encompassed science fiction and fantasy, including the Polesotechnic League series and the Terran Empire series featuring Dominic Flandry, and the fantasy Kingdoms of Ys series, written with his wife Karen. He received seven Hugo and three Nebula Awards, and a SFWA Grandmaster Award among other honors. He died in 2001. "Security" takes place in a future America, where Control and Efficiency are emphasized, and unquestioned loyalty is required. Nobody wants a repeat of the catastrophic war that happened seventy-five years previously, and sacrifices must be made to insure the ultimate peace. Or so Dr. Allen Lancaster, a Sector Chief on a Project believes, until Security decides his planned vacation will be spent in space on a top secret project. People who learn too much have been jailed or even shot as security risks. Is Dr. Lancaster's new assignment a blessing or a curse? He will find out . . .

    Once in the very first weeks of the war, before everyone had been evacuated from the surface, they had seen a hospital train discharging the wounded, people who had been showered with sleet. He remembered the way they had looked, the expression on their faces, or as much of their faces as was left. It had not been a pleasant sight.There had been a lot of that at first, in the early days before the transfer to undersurface was complete. There had been a lot, and it hadn't been very difficult to come across it.Taylor looked up at his wife. She was thinking too much about it, the last few months. They all were."Forget it," he said. "It's all in the past. There isn't anybody up there now but the leadys, and they don't mind.""But just the same, I hope they're careful when they let one of them down here. If one were still hot--"

    And it's not to be expected that a man would get a second chance at life. But an atomic might accomplish both--

    The new quantum computer system is foolproof. But someone on the inside is no fool. For once the odds may not favor the house—unless human ingenuity isn’t entirely a thing of the past.Andy Weir’s Randomize is part of Forward, a collection of six stories of the near and far future from out-of-this-world authors. Each piece can be read or listened to in a single thought-provoking sitting.

    Dead Ringer appeared in the November 1956 issue of Galaxy Science Fiction.There was nothing, especially on Earth, which could set him free--the truth least of all!

    . . ?Nicholas Martin looked up at the robot across the desk."I'm not going to ask what you want," he said, in a low, restrained voice. "I already know. Just go away and tell St. Cyr I approve. Tell him I think it's wonderful, putting a robot in the picture. We've had everything else by now, except the Rockettes. But clearly a quiet little play about Christmas among the Portuguese fishermen on the Florida coast "must" have a robot. Only, why not six robots? Tell him I suggest a baker's dozen. Go away."

    As the story begins, Leeds and his 'aspects' are drawn into the search for the missing Balubal Razon, inventor of a camera whose astonishing properties could alter our understanding of human history and change the very structure of society"--From publisher's description

    A gifted chemist vying for a place at the university, David leads a secret life as a manufacturer for a ruthless drug dealer. When his friend Leelee goes missing, leaving signs of the dealer's involvement, David takes it upon himself to save her. But first he must shake his aunt Bobbie Draper, an ex-marine who has been set adrift in her own life after a mysterious series of events nobody is talking about. Set in the hard-scrabble solar system of Leviathan Wakes and Caliban's War, "Gods of Risk" deepens James S. A. Corey's acclaimed Expanse series.

    With polite smiles, the planet frustrated him at every turn - until he found them all the hard way! A classic science fiction story originally published in the "If Worlds of Science Fiction" in July, 1953. Includes a detailed "About the Author" and a selected bibliography.

    In this toasted tomorrow, the highly-mechanized Puffy Products is bent on producing the supremely lightest loaf. The story is what happens if bread isn't just airy, but pumped full of lighter-than-air helium. Leiber (Ships to the Stars) didn't often bake up such a souffle of spoof, but he's a master in the kitchen. And "Bread Overhead" has just enough to say about human nature to be filling, besides.

    Though most of Earth has already been evacuated, it’s Samantha’s job to catalog plant samples for the survivors’ unknowable journey beyond.Preparing to stay behind and watch the world end, she makes a final human connection.As certain doom hurtles nearer, the unexpected and beautiful potential for the future begins to flower.Veronica Roth’s Ark is part of Forward, a collection of six stories of the near and far future from out-of-this-world authors. Each piece can be read or listened to in a single thought-provoking sitting.

    Now and then he moved a little to quiet the protest of cramped muscles and stagnant blood, but most of the time he was as motionless as the heap of rags he resembled. Not once did he hear or see a Bohas agent, or, for that matter, anyone. The predawn darkness had hidden his panting flight from the transie jungle, his dodging across backyards while whistles shrilled and voices shouted, and his crawling on hands and knees down an alley into the high grass and bushes which fringed a hidden garden. For a while his heart had knocked so loudly that he had been sure he would not be able to hear his pursuers if they did get close. It seemed inevitable that they would track him down. A buddy had told him that a new camp had just been built at a place only three hours drive away from the town. This meant that Bohas would be thick as hornets in the neighborhood.