Download Dark Benediction (SF Masterworks) by Walter M. Miller PDF

By Walter M. Miller

Walter M. Miller Jr is healthier remembered because the writer of A Canticle for Leibowitz, universally well-known as one of many maximum novels of recent SF. yet in addition to writing that deeply felt and eloquent e-book, he produced many shorter works of fiction of lovely originality and tool. His profound curiosity in faith and his innate literary presents mixed completely within the construction of such works because the Darfstellar, for which he gained a Hugo in 1955, Conditionally Human, I, Dreamer and the large starvation, all of that are integrated during this marvelous and crucial assortment.

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But Kenny's just a kid. " Despite Kenny's increasing helplessness and weakness, he began spending more time wandering out in the woods. Cleo chided him for it, and tried to limit his excursions. She drove him to town on alternate days for a transfusion and shots, and she tried to keep him in the house most of the time, but he needed sun and air and exercise; and it was impossible to keep him on the lawn. Whatever he was doing, it was a shadowy secretive business. It involved spades and garden tools and packages, with late excursions into the maples toward the creek.

But it writhed within itself, curled and crawled, not dispersing, but seeming to swim. Smoke from the violet light? She watched it with wide, upturned eyes. Despite its volatile shape, it clung together as a single entity as smoke would never have done. She could still see it faintly after it had cleared the lunar disk, scintillating in the moon-glow. It swam like an airborne jellyfish. A cluster of silver threads it seemed, tangled in a cloud of filaments—or a giant mass of dandelion fluff. It leaked out misty pseudo-pods, then drew them back as it pulled itself through the air.

Unconcerned. It occurred to me that some sort of psychic change, unfathomable, might have happened within him—some sudden sense of timelessness, of identity with the race. Something that would let him die calmly as long as be knew there'd be a cure someday. It seemed too much to expect of a child, but I mentioned the notion to Jules when I saw him again. "Could be," be admitted. " "People who know they're dying often behave that way. Little secret activities that don't become apparent until after they're gone.

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