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The Shoulders of Giants [MultiFormat]
eBook by Robert J. Sawyer

  Regular     Club
You Pay:  $0.75     $0.64

eBook Category: Science Fiction Aurora Award Nominee
eBook Description: After 1200 years of travel, the sleeper ship Pioneer Spirit finally arrives at Tau Ceti ... only to find that the world they intended to colonize is already inhabited.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Star Colonies, ed. Martin H. Greenberg and John Helfers, 2000
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2002


179 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [82 KB], eReader (PDB) [33 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [20 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [19 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [68 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [90 KB], hiebook (KML) [78 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [49 KB], iSilo (PDB) [17 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [21 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [49 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [31 KB]
Words: 5668
Reading time: 16-22 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED


It seemed like only yesterday when I'd died, but, of course, it was almost certainly centuries ago. I wish the computer would just tell me, dammitall, but it was doubtless waiting until its sensors said I was sufficiently stable and alert. The irony was that my pulse was surely racing out of concern, forestalling it speaking to me. If this was an emergency, it should inform me, and if it wasn't, it should let me relax.

Finally, the machine did speak in its crisp, feminine voice. "Hello, Toby. Welcome back to the world of the living."

"Where--" I'd thought I'd spoken the word, but no sound had come out. I tried again. "Where are we?"

"Exactly where we should be: decelerating toward Soror."

I felt myself calming down. "How is Ling?"

"She's reviving, as well."

"The others?"

"All forty-eight cryogenics chambers are functioning properly," said the computer. "Everybody is apparently fine."

That was good to hear, but it wasn't surprising. We had four extra cryochambers; if one of the occupied ones had failed, Ling and I would have been awoken earlier to transfer the person within it into a spare. "What's the date?"

"16 June 3296."

I'd expected an answer like that, but it still took me back a bit. Twelve hundred years had elapsed since the blood had been siphoned out of my body and oxygenated antifreeze had been pumped in to replace it. We'd spent the first of those years accelerating, and presumably the last one decelerating, and the rest--

--the rest was spent coasting at our maximum velocity, 3,000 km/s, one percent of the speed of light. My father had been from Glasgow; my mother, from Los Angeles. They had both enjoyed the quip that the difference between an American and a European was that to an American, a hundred years was a long time, and to a European, a hundred miles is a big journey.

But both would agree that twelve hundred years and 11.9 light-years were equally staggering values. And now, here we were, decelerating in toward Tau Ceti, the closest sunlike star to Earth that wasn't part of a multiple-star system. Of course, because of that, this star had been frequently examined by Earth's Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. But nothing had ever been detected; nary a peep.

I was feeling better minute by minute. My own blood, stored in bottles, had been returned to my body and was now coursing through my arteries, my veins, reanimating me.

We were going to make it.


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