Hot and Steamy

Table of Contents

 

 

 

 

A klaxon sounded, loud and pulsing.

Lord Ashington's face changed in an instant. “Clark, are you on the damned boilers?”

There was noise below as men shouted and ran.

The scaffolding lurched beneath my feet. I staggered. Lord Ashington wrapped his arm around my waist to steady me and grabbed for one of the braces with his free hand. He clasped me tight in a most inappropriate manner.

The machine he had been working on moved, lurching to rise to its feet. It was an automaton, fully twenty feet tall, and it turned a copper face toward the klaxon.

There'd be no help from below, as men raced to what appeared to be a boiler on the verge of boiling dry. Once again the automaton lurched. Ashington released me, thrusting me behind him as he turned to confront his creation, wrench in hand. The platform shuddered beneath our feet. “We have to stop it,” he yelled to me. “Or else it will—”

The automaton raised its hand, and whirling blades emerged inches from Ashington's face.

I gripped my parasol and leaped to the attack.

 

—From “For Queen and Country”

by Elizabeth A. Vaughan

 

 

Boondocks Fantasy
, edited by Jean Rabe and Martin H. Greenberg
Urban fantasy is popular, but what if you took that modern fantasy and moved it to the “sticks,” with no big city in sight? Trailer parks, fishing shacks, sleepy little towns, or specks on the map so small that if you blink while driving through you'll miss them. Vampires, wizards, aliens, and elves might be tired of all that urban sprawl and prefer a spot in the country—someplace where they can truly be themselves without worrying about what the neighbors think! With stories by tale-spinners such as Gene Wolfe, Timothy Zahn, Mickey Zucker Reichert, Anton Strout, Linda P. Baker and others.

 

Zombiesque
,
edited by Stephen L. Antczak, James C. Bassett, and Martin H. Greenberg

Zombies have long stalked and staggered through the darkest depths of human imagination, pandering to our fears about death and what lies beyond. But must zombies always be just shambling, brain-obsessed ghouls? If zombies actually maintained some level of personality and intelligence, what would they want more than anything? Could zombies integrate themselves into society? Could society accept zombies? What if a zombie fell in love? These are just some of the questions explored in original stories by Seanan McGuire, Nancy A. Collins, Tim Waggoner, Richard Lee Byers, Jim C. Hines, Jean Rabe, and Del Stone Jr. with others. Here's your chance to take a walk on the undead side in these unforgettable tales told from a zombie's point of view.

 

Science fiction is the literature of what if, and steampunk takes the what if along a particular time stream. What if steam power was the prime force in the Victorian era? How would that era change, and how would it change the future? From a Franco-British race for Kentucky coal to one woman's determination to let no man come between her and her inventions . . . from “machine whisperers” to a Thomas Edison experiment gone awry, here are fourteen original tales of what might have been had steam powered the world in an earlier age, from Michael A. Stackpole, Donald J., Bingle, Robert Vardeman, Paul Genesse, Jody Lynn Nye, and others.

 

After Hours: Tales from the Ur-Bar
,
edited by Joshua Palmatier and Patricia Bray

The first bar, created by the Sumerians after they were given the gift of beer by the gods, was known as the Ur-Bar. Although it has since been destroyed, its spirit lives on. In each age there is one bar that captures the essence of the original Ur-Bar, where drinks are mixed with magic and served with a side of destiny and intrigue. Now some of today's most inventive scriveners, such as Benjamin Tate, Kari Sperring, Anton Strout, and Avery Shade, among others, have decided to belly up to the Ur-Bar and tell their own tall tales—from an alewife's attempt to transfer the gods' curse to Gilgamesh, to Odin's decision to introduce Vikings to the Ur-Bar . . . from the Holy Roman Emperor's barroom bargain, to a demon hunter who may just have met his match in the ultimate magic bar, to a bouncer who discovers you should never let anyone in after hours in a world terrorized by zombies. . . .

eISBN : 978-1-101-53327-7

Copyright © 2011 by Jean Rabe and Tekno Books

 

All Rights Reserved

 

 

DAW Book Collectors No. 1551.

 

DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA).

 

All characters and events in this book are fictitious.

 

All resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

 

 

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

First Printing, June 2011

 

DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED
U.S. PAT. AND TM. OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES
—MARCA REGISTRADA
HECHO EN U.S.A.

 

 

Introduction © 2011 by Jean Rabe

“Chance Corrigan and the Queen of Hearts,” copyright © 2011 by Michael A. Stackpole

“Absinthe-Minded Archaeologist,” copyright © 2011 by Vicki Johnson-Steger

“The Problem of Trystan,” copyright © 2011 by Maurice Broaddus

“Clockworks,” copyright © 2011 by Jody Lynn Nye

“In the Belly of the Behemoth,” copyright © 2011 by Matt Forbeck

“Automata Futura,” copyright © 2011 by Stephen D. Sullivan

“Love Comes To Abyssal City,” copyright © 2011 by Tobias S. Buckell

“For the Love of Byron,” copyright © 2011 by Mickey Zucker Reichert

“For Queen and Country,” copyright © 2011 by Elizabeth A. Vaughan

“Grasping at Shadows,” copyright © 2011 by C.J. Henderson

“Go Forward With Courage,” copyright © 2011 by Dean Leggett

“Her Faith Is Fixt,” copyright © 2011 by The Cenotaph Corporation.

“Kinetic Dreams,” copyright © 2011 by C.A. Verstraete

“For the Love of Copper,” copyright © 2011 by Marc Tassin

“Cassandra's Kiss,” copyright © 2011 by Mary Louise Eklund

“Dashed Hopes,” copyright © 2011 by Donald J. Bingle

T
o me, the Victorian era is romantic all on its own. The dresses and music, lace doilies on decorative little tables, fluted glasses for wine, the soft glow of oil lamps . . . ah, to be transported there. But to be transported there with the use of a time machine, such as is available in “Kinetic Dreams,” is even better. The Victorian era is a little more interesting with a good dose of science fiction, steampunk style, thrown in.

Some of the authors in this collection were in DAW's previous offering—
Steampunk'd
. They even revisit their favorite characters in a romantic light.

As the title implies, these are all love stories—with varying degrees of steam to suit most tastes. But the tales are more than smoochy scenes filled with tender embraces and a few sweaty sheets. They are also filled with intrigue, danger, pyrotechnics, and plenty of gadgets. It wouldn't be proper steampunk without some gadgets and airships and automatons and the like. There are even a few pairs of goggles in the mix.

The stories weave their way from England to the New World to Egypt and back again, from high above the earth to deep beneath it.

And all are centered on the heart—from Michael A. Stackpole's Queen of Hearts to the one beating in Jody Lynn Nye's tale.

This one's for you, Marty.

Enjoy! I certainly did.

—Jean

C
hance Corrigan emerged from the shadowed doorway and fell in step with the woman. None too gently, he took her right elbow in his left hand. “Keep walking, my lady.”

Her blue eyes sparked hotly. “How dare . . .”

“I'm not with them.” Chance cast a glance back over his left shoulder, the mechanical eye clicking once. “I'm here to save you.”

She failed to wrench her arm free, so she raised a heel to kick him. Chance, expecting that, leaned into her, throwing her off balance. Her gown's long skirts would have rendered the kick less than effective, but now they tangled her legs. Save for his hand on her arm, and his right hand quickly slipping around her waist, she would have fallen onto a wet Monaco street.

Her two pursuers sprinted forward. Both wore evening clothes, the trailing man having donned a thick overcoat and bowler hat. The younger man, wasp-waisted, his blond hair slicked back in the manner of the day, raised a hand. “I say, you there, unhand her.” His accent, the product of generational inbreeding and the finest of British public schools, rendered his English all but incomprehensible.

Chance turned, interposing himself between them and their petite, flame-haired prey. “‘Unhand her?' I ain't gonna hurt her. Or are you afraid I'll do a better job than you?”