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Sunday, March 4, 2018

The Ghost Canal

The Ghost Canal


They knew what would happen, of course, when the mining companies and the archaeologists discovered a plentiful supply of water. That water would still be contaminated by centuries of leakage from an alien superbomb and would have to be filtered, probably not very thoroughly. That wouldn’t be much of a problem especially with expendable prison labor working down there. Stone guessed what the exploiters would do with the great calm waterway perpetually pouring into a bottomless canyon to be captured and recycled, by some mysterious process, back into the canal again. Power.  (The Lost Canal by Michael Moorcock)

On the west side of the canal, someone seemed to be trying to raise wheat again – that happened every decade or so, according to his father, when new settlers arrived from Earth. It never worked very well, but it usually produced enough spindly stalks to feed a few goats. (The Sunstone by Phyllis Eisentstein).

And Dave thought, not for the first time, how much more beautiful the stars were without that big, bright Earth satellite to spoil them ; the Martian moons were far more modest, with Phobos a fraction of the size and brightness of Earth’s moon and Deimos just another pinpoint in the great darkness. (King of the Cheap Romance by Joe R. Lansdale).

If you die on Mars, do you go to Martian Heaven? (Joe R. Lansdale). Image: © by Megan Jorgensen (Elena)

Jason’ first day on his new world would have been his last, his journeys ended in the belly of a sand-shark, had a passing Praxian naval ship not hauled him on board,(Chris Roberson, Mariner).

My last great excitement had been the night before we left for Mars. Ships! Space travel! Why, I could hardly sleep the night before launch. I soon discovered that space travel is very much like an ocean cruise, without the promenade decks and the excursions, and far, far fewer people. And much, much worse food. However tedious and braying the company for me, I derived some pleasure from the fact that for them it was three months locked in with Count Jack. (Ian McDonald, The Queen of the Night’s Aria)

Just a few weeks of being in the abandoned place, alone with a half-sane man, and she was already starting to hear whispers, to forget where she was leaving thing, finding light on she swore she’d turned off. Either she was going crazy, or Solo found humor in making her feel that way. (Wool, by Hugh Howey)

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