Parisien, Dominik (ed) - Robots vs. Fairies / Парисьен, Доминик (ред) - Роботы против фей [2018, EPUB, ENG]

Build Me a Wonderland / Поcтрой мне Страну чудес short story by Seanan McGuire Quality Time / Чистая радость novelette by Ken Liu Murmured Under the Moon / Шёпотом, при лунном свете short story by Tim Pratt The Blue Fairy's Manifesto / Манифест Голубого Эльфа short story by Annalee Newitz Bread and Milk and Salt / Хлеб, молоко и соль short story by Sarah Gailey Ironheart / Железное сердце short story by Jonathan Maberry Just Another Love Song / Просто ещё одна песня любви short story by Kat Howard Sound and Fury / Шум и ярость short story by Mary Robinette Kowal The Bookcase Expedition / Экспедиция на книжный шкаф short story by Jeffrey Ford Work Shadow/Shadow Work / Рабочая тень/Теневая работа short story by Madeline Ashby Second to the Left, and Straight On / Второй поворот налево, затем — прямо short story by Jim C. Hines The Buried Giant / Похороненный гигант short story by Lavie Tidhar Three Robots Experience Objects Left Behind from the Era of Humans for the First Time / Три робота впервые оценивают объекты, оставленные эрой человечества short story by John Scalzi Ostentation of Peacocks / Хвастовство павлинов short story by Delilah S. Dawson (as by Lila Bowen) All the Time We've Left to Spend / Время, что нам остаётся short story by Alyssa Wong Adriftica / Афродиатика novelette by Maria Dahvana Headley To a Cloven Pine / В расщелине сосны short story by Max Gladstone A Fall Counts Anywhere / Поражение — везде и всегда поражение short story by Catherynne M. Valente

I started seeing them during the winter when I was at death’s door and whacked out on meds. At first I thought they were baby praying mantises that had somehow invaded the house to escape the ice and snow, but they were far smaller than that. Minuscule, really. I was surprised I could see them at all. I could, though, and at times with great clarity, as if through invisible binoculars. Occasionally, I heard their distant cries. I’m talking about fairies, tiny beings in the forms of men, women, and children. I spotted them, thin as a pin and half as tall, creeping about; running from the cats or carrying back to their homes in the walls sacks full of crumbs gathered from our breakfast plates. Mostly I saw them at night, as I had to sit upright in the corner of the living room couch to sleep in order not to suffocate. While the wind howled outside, the light coming in from the kitchen illuminated a small party of them ascending and descending the dunes and craters of the moonscape that was my blanket. One night they planted a flag—a tattered postage stamp fastened to a cat’s whisker—into my knee as if I was undiscovered country. The first time I saw one, it was battling—have you ever seen one of those spiders that looks like it’s made of wood? Well, the fairy had a thistle spike and was parrying the picket legs of that arachnid, bravely lunging for its soft underbelly. I took it all in stride, though. I didn’t get excited. I certainly didn’t go and tell Lynn, who would think it nonsense. Let the fairies do their thing, I thought. I had way bigger problems to deal with, like trying to breathe. ...