Impossible Places

By Alan Dean Foster

For 3 many years technology fiction legend Alan Dean Foster has captivated readers all over the world, from his debut classic The Tar-Aiym Krang and his encouraged state of affairs for the 1st megastar Trek motion picture to a number of New York Times bestsellers, together with Splinter of the Mind’s Eye and Flinx in Flux.

In this choice of twenty very good odysseys of the mind's eye, Foster once more soars past the boundaries of reality—where the genuine thrills start. . . .

NASA Sending Addicts to Mars!: It used to be the main insane proposal within the annals of house travel—and the single person who might work.
Diesel Dream: Sometimes on darkish, lonely highways goals do come precise, and this trucker’s wish was once the easiest one among all.
Sideshow: Flinx hadn’t a clue concerning the alien dancer, yet Pip knew difficulty while she observed it.
Empowered: an impressive male discovers the not-so-super half approximately being a superhero.
The Question: A daring adventurer determines to resolve one in every of life’s profound mysteries.

. . . and fifteen different remarkable stories!

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Chuckling uneasily to himself, he sauntered on. And iced up. They have been relocating. The programs at the cabinets forward. Twitching just a little, jerking opposed to their bins and restraints. large baggage of intimidating chips, densely packed boxes of vacuum-restrained pretzels, stacks of creme-filled non-cakes. All gyrating and weaving and rustling invitingly. And he may listen the sound now—a low, insinuating moan. The tempting murmur of empty energy, of empires of gluttony equipped on mountains of salt and plains of subtle white sugar. “Eat us,” the engaging susurration whispered coaxingingly. “You have disadvantaged your self for too lengthy, have placed your self outdoor excitement for no cause. eat, and enjoyment in us. ” He blinked, clapping his fingers over his ears. The microcassette recorder slipped from his arms to strike the unyielding, Hawaiian Punch–stained flooring. Its conceal popped open and the tape flew out. Pained, he knelt to recuperate it. whatever landed on his again. Forgetting the recorder, he reached round wildly. anything tender and sticky squished among his arms. The tactile sensation used to be oddly sensuous. Terrified, he came upon himself staring down at a handful of smashed, bloodred lunch-box cherry pie that contained no cherries and no pie. It oozed from among his arms, the unctuous red gunk packing in underneath his fingernails. “Eat me,” the glutinous mass recommended him. “Suck me up. You’ll love it. ” With a cry, he rose and flung the fragments of pseudo-pie so far as he could—but a few of it caught to his arms besides. Stumbling backward, he crashed into the closest cabinets. Flailing wildly, he introduced down on best of himself piles of chips, stacks of Cheetos, heavy lumps of sponge cake and devil’s meals cake and white cake and lemon cake differentiated exclusively by way of the kind of synthetic coloring and flavoring they contained. They have been everywhere him now, relocating, surging lugubriously back and forth; these unusual molecules he’d found boldly announcing themselves. They sought after, cried out, demanded to be fed on. He struggled underneath their empty weight and attempted to scream for support, however the eight-year-olds who may have rescued him have been tucked comfy of their beds faraway from the shuttered industry. having a look down, he observed baggage of pretzels and honey-roasted Cornnuts splitting open; their overbaked, over-saturated, oversalted entrails spilling throughout his chest and legs. He kicked wildly, sending crumbs flying yet not able to get to his toes. His fingers and chest have been slowly disappearing underneath thick cords of plaster-white creme and darkish imitation fudge filling. His eyes widened as he observed them humping sinuously towards his face; dying diminished to spongy candy bland-ness. They stuffed themselves into his mouth, shoving his lips aside, forcing themselves down his throat. He persisted to fight, to struggle, however it was once lifeless. They crushed him, relentless and unyielding of their wish to please, to slavishly gratify the basest of human wishes. the sunshine started to fade from his eyes. He’d been careless, he learned.

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