The Essential Works of Cyril M. Kornbluth
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Cyril M. Kornbluth. The Essential Works of Cyril M. Kornbluth
The Essential Works of Cyril M. Kornbluth
Table of Contents
Takeoff
PART I
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
PART II
FOREWORD
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CONCLUSION
FOREWORD
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
The Syndic
PART I
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
PART II
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
Search the Sky
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
Wolfbane
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
King Cole of Pluto
CHAPTER I. LEIGH SALVAGE, INCORPORATED
CHAPTER II. AN UNEXPECTED RIVAL
CHAPTER III. CRIME IN SPACE
CHAPTER IV. PURSUIT BETWEEN THE PLANETS
CHAPTER V. CONTACT OFF PLUTO
CHAPTER VI. RETURN FROM BATTLE
Reap the Dark Tide
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
The Rocket of 1955
What Sorghum Says
The City in the Sofa
Dead Center!
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
The Perfect Invasion
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
Masquerade
The Little Black Bag
Iteration
The Marching Morons
With These Hands
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
The Altar at Midnight
The Adventurer
The Luckiest Man in Denv
Time Bum
Ms. Found in a Chinese Fortune Cookie
Theory of Rocketry
Crisis!
The Reversible Revolutions
Отрывок из книги
Cyril M. Kornbluth
Takeoff, The Syndic, Search the Sky, Wolfbane, King Cole of Pluto, Reap the Dark Tide
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He checked out, carrying his light overnight bag and portable. An inconspicuous man followed him to the airport; he had been following MacIlheny for weeks. They both enjoyed the walk; it was a coldly sun-bright January day.
The man was in dungaree pants and a dirty undershirt—no, the top of an old-fashioned union suit with buttons. He was bending over a slow-turning engine lathe, boring out a cast-iron fitting. The boring bar chattered suddenly and he snarled at it: "A-a-ah, ya dirty dog ya!" and slapped off the power switch.
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