The Fountains of Paradise
Arthur C. Clarke
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This Hugo and Nebula Award-winning novel is reissued in this trade paperback edition. Vannemar Morgan's dream of linking Earth with the stars requires a 24,000-mile-high space elevator. But first he must solve a million technical, political, and economic problems while allaying the wrath of God. Includes a new introduction by the author.
come. Already, his mind, strength, and will were being taxed to the utmost; he had no time for idle distractions. Yet he had become fascinated by the achievements of an engineer-architect two thousands years dead, belonging to a totally alien culture. And there was the mystery of Kalidasa himself. What was his purpose in building Yakkagala? The King might have been a monster, but there was something about his character that struck a chord in the secret places of Morgan’s own heart. Sunrise would
attraction. They think they could charge premium rates for views of Phobos sailing past at arm’s length at a couple of thousand kilometers an hour. Quite a spectacle, wouldn’t you agree?” “I prefer to imagine it. But they may be right…. Anyway, I’m relieved to hear that there is a solution. I’m also happy to note that you approve of our engineering talent. Does this mean we can expect a decision soon?” “You can have it now,” said Morgan. “When can we start work?” 26. The Night before Vesak
Presently he became aware of the buzzing of insects, the distant barking of dogs, the cold hardness of the stone upon which he was sitting. Tranquillity was not a state of mind that could be sustained for long. With a sigh, Rajasinghe got to his feet and began to walk back to his car, parked a hundred meters outside the temple grounds. He was just entering the vehicle when he noticed the small white patch, so clearly defined that it might have been painted on the sky, rising over the trees to
shows astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman with a copy of this book floating in space beside him. When they returned to Earth, the shuttle crew autographed it and mailed it to me. Finally, I’d like to record that I had the great pleasure of meeting the charming inventor of the space elevator, Yuri Artsutanov, in Leningrad during my visit to Russia in 1982 (see my collection of essays 1984: Spring a Choice of Futures), and I am glad that Yuri has now received recognition for his brilliant and daring
frescoes for another hour. Idly, Rajasinghe wondered who the early bird could be. He rolled out of bed, slipped into a bright batik sarong, and made his way out to the veranda and thence to the stout concrete pillar supporting the telescope. Making a mental note, for about the fiftieth time, that he really should get the instrument a new dust cover, he swung the stubby barrel toward the Rock. I might have guessed it! he said to himself, with considerable pleasure, as he switched to high power.