The Complete Short Stories: The 1960s

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Brian Aldiss. The Complete Short Stories: The 1960s

Afterword:

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INTERVENTION OF FRAME BARS

EDVARD MUNCH: THE ROOM OF THE DEAD

EVEN TODAY THE CATASTROPHE IS NOT ABSOLUTE BY DAVID JESSEL

NATIONAL FLAGS IN INTERNATIONAL BREEZE

MARVELLOUS ACTION SHOT OF HUMAN SUFFERING

REPUBLICA DOS ESTADOS UNIDOS DO BRASIL

CO-OPERATIVE AVOIDANCE OF CONDITIONING IN MONKEYS’ AVERSIVELY CONTROLLED BEHAVIOUR

SECRET CEREMONY, BOOM, ACCIDENT

THE WORLD OF THE DO-IT-YOURSELF WAR

‘STOP THE TWENTIETH CENTURY – IT’S THE NINETEENTH TRAVELLING IN REVERSE!’

HOUSE ABOLITION PROTEST MARCH STRIKE

EVERYTHING OR NOTHING IS WORTH TELEVISING

RELATIVITY – THE WAY VAN VOGT USED TO TELL IT

THE SICK CITIES OF HISTORY

HIS NAME BE PRAISED BLESSED ARE THE LONGLIVED YOU ASKED FOR IT ROME

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU KNOW WHO LET THIS BE A LESSON

SIX MANIFESTATIONS OF JOSEPH LOSEY BEFORE BREAKFAST

Also by Brian Aldiss

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Cover

Title Page

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Angelina was having a mild hysteric fit, crying this was London burning and slapping Charteris wildly on the face. He in his eyes scribbled on the retinal wall saw the graffiti of her blazing hate and all behind her flames like Christmas cacti flowering with a lorry coming fast recalled her husband the white land as it rushes up but no impact and his blows and knew among the microseconds lay a terminal alternative to silence her and have no more inspector at his feast for she as much as any of the predelic enemies among the Neanders dream her speckled wake.

She in her turn was not too wild to see a redder shade of crimson leap up his retaining wall and with a lesser scream now our valleys fall echoing before them now in our shattered towns the smoke clings still as the ulcerated countryside rumpled outwards at predatomi speed to her fluttering chimera she did the sleight-of-hand and dodged him as he once more sprang and pushed clutching at his ancient blue coat of Inner Relief but now no Christmas innocence. Slipping he fell and at the rickety platform edge hung down to see bloodied cobbles under surflare. With instinct she on top of him flung her bony trunk loading him back and cosseted him and goosed and mewed and sat him up and like a mother made all kindliness but milk there though the sun novaed.

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