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The men of Yarnith hold that nothing began until Yarni Zai uplifted his hand. Yarni Zai, they say, has the form of a man but is greater and is a thing of rock. When he uplifted his hand all the rocks that wandered beneath the Dome, by which name they call the sky, gathered together around Yarni Zai. Of the other worlds they say nought, but hold that the stars are the eyes of all the other gods that look on Yarni Zai and laugh, for they are all greater than he, though they have gathered no worlds around them. Yet though they be greater than Yarni Zai, and though they laugh at him when they speak together beneath the Dome, they all speak of Yarni Zai.

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There was also another prophet and his name was Shaun, who had such reverence for the gods of Old that he became able to discern their forms by starlight as they strode, unseen by others, among men. And in the city Shaun’s followers built three temples. The one on the right was a temple for the young, and the one on the left a temple for the old, and the third was a temple for the old, and the third was a temple with doors closed and barred—therein none ever entered. For many years Shaun and his few followers lived in their huts upon the mountain’s summit worshipping gods that mocked, and every night Shaun saw the two gods by starlight as they laughed to one another in the silence. And Shaun grew old.

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There in Pegana lay the gods asleep, and in a corner lay the Power of the gods alone upon the floor, a thing wrought of black rock and four words graven upon it, whereof I might not give thee any clue, if even I should find it—four words of which none knoweth. Some say they tell of the opening of a flower towards dawn, and others say they concern earthquakes among hills, and others that they tell of the death of fishes, and others that the words be these: Power, Knowledge, Forgetting, and another word that not the gods themselves may ever guess.

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It was dark all over the world and even in Pegana, where dwell the gods, it was dark when the child Inzana, the Dawn, first found her golden ball. Then running down the stairway of the gods with tripping feet, chalcedony, onyx, chalcedony, onyx, step by step, she cast her golden ball across the sky. The golden ball went bounding up the sky, and the Dawnchild with her flaring hair stood laughing upon the stairway of the gods, and it was day.

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Joe Kenmore heard the airlock close with a sickening wheeze and then a clank. In desperation he turned toward Haney. «My God, we've been locked out!» Through the transparent domes of their space helmets, Joe could see a look of horror and disbelief pass across Haney's face. But it was true! Joe and his crew were locked out of the Space Platform. Four thousand miles below circled the Earth. Under Joe's feet rested the solid steel hull of his home in outer space. But without tools there was no hope of getting back inside. Joe looked at his oxygen meter. It registered thirty minutes to live.

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Fantastic Stories of the Imagination, edited by Hugo and Wold Fantasy Award nominated editor Warren Lapine, brings you the very best in science fiction and fantasy. Join us as we explore strange new worlds. This is the ebook edition of the Fantastic Stories webzine containing all content from the September 2014 issue, including: Original Novella: Invisible Friends Too (Or, I have no bananas and Ice must cream) by Steven Sawiki Monkeys, aliens, and Elvis . . . oh my. Novellette: Planting Walnuts by Linda Tiernan Kepner They were broke, outnumbered, and outgunned… but they were just getting started. Short Story: The Big Guy by Mike Resnick Is there anything that compares to the thrill of victory . . . ? Short Story: Time Slip by Hannah Kollef What if your past, present, and future could commingle? Reviews: The Fan: Backtracking, Dislocations, Learning Curves, and Getting One’s Bearings in which Carole McDonnell interogates a series of puzzling novels. Reviews: The Magic Lantern:To Start With in which Adam-Troy Castro reveals and reviews off-the beatean path films; finding some hidden gems amongst those justly obscure. Commentary: Roots of Spec Fic: The Greater Evil of H.P. Lovecraft in which by Jay O’Connell dissects HPL’s enduring—and troubling—appeal. Make sure you go to www.fantasticstoriesoftheimagination.com every months for lots of great, free content.

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Dixon Wells, a fashionable playboy, is always late. What will it cost him this time? Sideways into time, lie the worlds of 'if', where many answers await.

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An entertaining story that plays like '2001: A Space Odyssey' in reverse. Martians, an interplanetary cold war, asteroids, and devolution await.

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In the frozen wastes at the bottom of the world two explorers find a strange pool of white fire—and have a strange adventure.

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A small group of intellectuals from a primitive culture of modified monkey-like humans are banished from the treetops for heresy. In their exile on the ground they have to adapt to vastly different circumstances, fight monsters resembling dinosaurs, and finally happen upon the godly giants, whose existence they had questioned.