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Fifteen all-new tales by means of technology fiction’s best abilities, accumulated by means of bestselling writer George R. R. Martin and multiple-award profitable editor Gardner Dozois
 
Burroughs’s A Princess of Mars. Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles. Heinlein’s Red Planet. those and such a lot of extra encouraged generations of readers with a feeling that technology fiction’s maximum wonders didn't unavoidably lie a ways sooner or later or light-years around the galaxy yet have been to be discovered instantly on a close-by global tantalizingly just like our own—a purple planet that burned like an ember in our evening sky . . . and in our imaginations.
 
This new anthology of fifteen all-original technological know-how fiction tales, edited by way of George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois, celebrates the Golden Age of technological know-how Fiction, an period choked with stories of interplanetary colonization and derring-do. earlier than the appearance of robust telescopes and area probes, our sun method might be imagined as teeming with unusual life-forms and historical civilizations—by no capability consistently pleasant to the dominant species of Earth. And of the entire planets orbiting that G-class famous person we name the solar, none was once so steeped in an charisma of romantic decadence, exciting secret, and gung-ho event as Mars.
 
subscribe to such seminal members as Michael Moorcock, Mike Resnick, Joe R. Lansdale, S. M. Stirling, Mary Rosenblum, Ian McDonald, Liz Williams, James S. A. Corey, and others during this marvelous unfashionable anthology that turns its again at the chilly, all-but-airless Mars of the Mariner probes and as a substitute embraces an older, extra welcoming, extra unique Mars: a planet of old canals slicing via purple deserts studded with the ruined towns of demise races.
 
FEATURING ALL-NEW tales BY
 
James S. A. Corey • Phyllis Eisenstein • Matthew Hughes • Joe R. Lansdale • David D. Levine • Ian McDonald • Michael Moorcock • Mike Resnick • Chris Roberson • Mary Rosenblum • Melinda Snodgrass • Allen M. Steele • S. M. Stirling • Howard Waldrop • Liz Williams
 
And an creation by means of George R. R. Martin!

Praise for Old Mars
 
“Strong, enjoyable and evocative.”Tor.com
 
“A wonderful anthology . . . Pulp magic lives in those pages.”Bookhound

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Thin? form of bizarre. ” “… appealing. Like … spires. ” “Yeah. ” Jorge sighed. The sound used to be drained. previous. Maartin squinted at his face, on the shadows in his eyes. “So it’s not only me. ” He rubbed his face with either palms. “I couldn’t work out how I got here up with these items. What are they, Maartin? are you aware? ” “… humans. ” “Martians? ” Maartin shrugged. foolish query. “Ghosts? ” Maartin frowned. Shook his head slowly. “Ghosts … useless humans. ” Jorge groaned and buried his face in his palms. “I’ve been asking round. for a very long time. Yeah, the blokes who deal with pearls see stuff, yet not anyone retains a pearl very lengthy. good, me. yet i wished to determine what i used to be seeing. I figured they have been ghosts. ” He raised his head and stuck his eyes on Maartin. “I did a few checking. discovered the previous information put up approximately your … in regards to the coincidence. You and your mother received stuck in a particles slide from a blast. It took out a small dome. ” They’d been vacationing Teresa, Mom’s good friend. She’d laughed much and taught him to play poker. Maartin closed his eyes as once more, the dome above them buckled, break up, and purple dirt and rock flowed in like water. Screaming break up his ears, then silence, darkness, and … … humans. “I’m so sorry. ” Maartin opened his eyes as anything brushed his face. Jorge was once wiping tears from his cheeks. “That used to be the richest shoal of pearls ever discovered. humans … humans went loopy. So, what are they? ” Jorge used to be whispering now. “The pearls. have you learnt? ” Maartin considered it. He did comprehend. He wasn’t convinced he had the phrases, wove a faltering rationalization within the air together with his hands, biting his lip, expecting the breath-words to return. They didn’t. “What does that suggest? What you’re doing together with your hands? ” Maartin shook his head. “I … i feel they … like …” He drew a deep breath. “… a soul. No. ” He shook his head. “… projector? From in the past? ” “So they're ghosts. ” He sounded so relieved. Maartin shook his head. “… no longer useless. Alive. ” He struggled to discover phrases that might clarify, as his arms quivered. “Dif … varied approach … of being. ” He raised his head, stared into Jorge’s darkish eyes. “They dwell without end. yet … whilst … in the event you take … pearls away … they … die. every thing. urban. Spires. Spiderways. ” “No. ” Jorge spun to his toes, heading for the door. “Kid, you’re dreaming. They’re now not alive, they’re simply visions. Yeah, they appear genuine, yet that’s all they're. Ghosts. Visions. ” “No. ” Maartin clenched his hands into fists. “… alive. You kill them. ” Jorge left. Maartin listened to his footsteps fade. round him, the town hummed with lifestyles. humans slid around the spiderways and a trio of musicians shook bouquets of soft silver wands that gave off a shimmering, crystal tune that rose and fell, filling the air with curtains of rose and golden gentle. A urban. He strained his eyes in order that the dome light away and all he observed have been the streets, the free-form plazas paved right here with opalescent tiles, the silvery arches of the spiderways overhead, the fragile walkways that attached the tall constructions’ hovering spires. packed with humans.

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