Jemisin, N. K. / Джемисин, Н. К. - Собрание сочинений (42 произведения) [2005-2022, fb2/epub, ENG]

How Long 'til Black Future Month? 2018, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-0-316-49135-8, Orbit (US)

Red Riding Hood's Child 2010, fb2 Cloud Dragon Skies 2005, fb2 Bittersweet 2007, fb2 The Narcomancer 2007, fb2 The Brides of Heaven 2007, fb2 The You Train 2007, fb2 Playing Nice With God's Bowling Ball 2008, fb2 Non-Zero Probabilities 2009, fb2 On the Banks of the River Lex 2010, fb2 The Effluent Engine 2011, fb2 Valedictorian 2012, fb2 Walking Awake 2014, fb2 Stone Hunger 2014, fb2 The City Born Great 2016, epub, Tor Red Dirt Witch 2016, fb2 Give Me Cornbread or Give Me Death 2019, fb2 Emergency Skin 2019, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-5420-9357-6, Amazon Original Stories

“I didn’t mean for anything to happen to Timmy.” Jeffy Hanson sat before Grace in a chair big enough to swallow him, his head bowed and hands limp in his lap. “I told him not to feed it like that. I told him what would happen.” “Let’s just start at the beginning.” Detective Grace Anneton gave Jeffy a reassuring smile, though he didn’t lift his eyes to see it. In spite of herself, Grace felt sorry for the kid. She knew better; he could be some sweet-talking little punk, trying to snowjob her with his big, brown, puppy eyes. Or a sociopath, already skilled enough at seven years old to emulate emotions he didn’t feel. She shouldn’t feel sorry for any confessed murderer, no matter how improbable the murder sounded. But she did. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “It was for my mom. The card. I wanted to get it back from Timmy. You know Monster Fusion King?” Grace sifted through her memory and came up with an image: a sign in the window of the local convenience store. MONSTER FUSION KING SOLD HERE! “Some sort of card game?” He nodded. “Me and Timmy, we get new packs on Fridays. Timmy always gets four or five. I only buy one. My mom used to give me an allowance, but when Dad went away and we moved here to the city she had to stop. We don’t have a lot of money anymore.” “So how do you get a new pack every week, Jeffy?” “Mom gives me lunch money. But at lunchtime I get water instead of juice and I save up what’s left and I use that to buy my pack for the week.” He looked up at Grace, a different sort of guilt flickering in his eyes. “Do you have to tell my mom that?” Grace smiled and made a mental note to check for a financial motive if the kid’s confession turned out to be more than a load of hooey. “I don’t think we’ll have to tell her that, Jeffy. So. This all started when Timmy got a card you liked?” “No.” He looked down at his hands again. “I mean, yeah, he always had cards I liked, but that wasn’t what started it. Timmy was a real collector. He even got MONSTER KING magazine. He had almost all the cards ever made.” “I see. And how many cards did you have?” He shrugged a little. “Not so many.” Of course. “So this started last Friday when you got your new pack?” He nodded. “I got a really good card, the Cuckoo Chimera. It’s a special contest card, only a few ever made. Only I didn’t know that, not then. Timmy said he’d trade me for three of his repeats—ones he already had, I mean. I said yes.” He frowned and squirmed in his seat. Grace read his restlessness. “I’m guessing it was worth more than three cards.” . . .

THE WAY TO tell the difference between dreams that were prophecy and dreams that were just wasted sleep was to wait and see if they came three times. Emmaline had her third dream about the White Lady on the coldest night ever recorded in Alabama history. This was actually very cold—ten degrees below zero, on a long dark January Sabbath when even the moon hid behind a veil of shadow. Emmaline survived the cold the way poor people everywhere have done since the dawn of time: with a warm, energetic friend. Three patchwork quilts helped too. The friend was Frank Heath, who was pretty damn spry for a man of fifty-five, though he claimed to be forty-five so maybe that helped. The quilts were Em’s, and it also helped that one of them had dried flowers (Jack-in-thepulpits) and a few nuggets of charcoal tucked under each patch of leftover cloth. That made for a standing invitation to warmth and the summertime, who were of course welcome to pay a visit and stay the night anytime they liked. Those had come a-calling to the children’s beds, at least, for which Emmaline was grateful; the children slept soundly, snug and comfortable. That left Em and Frank free to conduct their own warmthmaking with an easy conscience. After that was done, Emmaline closed her eyes and found herself in the Commissary Market down on Dugan. Dusty southern daylight, bright and fierce even in winter, shone slanting onto the street alongside the market, unimpeded by cars or carts—or people. Pratt City wasn’t much of a city, being really just the Negro neighborhood of Birmingham, but it was a whole place, thriving and bustling in its way. Here, though, Emmaline had never seen the place so empty in her life. As if to spite the cold, the market’s bins tumbled over with summer produce: watermelons and green tomatoes and peaches and more, along with a few early collards. That meant that whatever this dream meant to warn her of, it would come with the heat of the mid-months. Out of habit, Em glanced at the sign above these last. Overpriced again; greedy bastards. “Why, greed’s a sin,” said a soft, whispery voice all around her. “Be proper of you to punish ’em for it, wouldn’t it?” This was one of the spirits that she’d tamed over the years. They liked to test her, though, so it was always wise to be careful with ’em. “Supposin’ I could,” she said in reply. “But only the store manager, since the company too big to go after. And I can’t say’s I truly blame the manager, either, since he got children to feed same as me.” “Sin’s sin, woman.” “And let she who is without sin cast the first stone,” Em countered easily. “As you well know.” Then she checked herself; no sense getting testy. Illwishing opened doors for ill winds to blow through—which was probably why the voice was trying to get her to do it. . . .

Добавлен новый роман "The Stone Sky" из цикла "The Broken Earth": 03 Jemisin, N. K. - The Stone Sky (The Broken Earth) - 2017.epub

Новый роман из межавторского цикла 02 Jemisin, N. K. - Initiation (Mass Effect_ Andromeda) - 2017.epub

Новый сборник Jemisin, N. K. - How Long 'til Black Future Month - 2018.epub

Добавлено: Jemisin, N. K. - Give Me Cornbread or Give Me Death - 2019.fb2 Jemisin, N. K. - Emergency Skin - 2019.epub

Добавлен новый роман из нового цикла: 01 Jemisin, N. K. - The City We Became (The Great Cities Trilogy) - 2020.epub

Замена: По невыясненным обстоятельствам файл Jemisin, N. K. - Non-Zero Probabilities - 2009.fb2 оказался содержащим другое произведение (и даже другого автора) Заменен на правильный файл с тем же именем

Название цикла "The Great Cities Trilogy" заменено на "The Great Cities": планы автора изменились, теперь это дилогия. файл 01 Jemisin, N. K. - The City We Became (The Great Cities Trilogy) - 2020.epub переименован в 01 Jemisin, N. K. - The City We Became (The Great Cities) - 2020.epub Добавлено: 02 Jemisin, N. K. - The World We Make (The Great Cities) - 2022.epub