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Kingsley Amis is one of the more astute critics of science fiction and recently, while speaking about the mainstream writer Anthony Burgess and his occasional forays into SF, Amis said . . . hes a stylist and thats rare in this field. Quite true. But we do have lack Vance and his haunting, mood-pos-sessed visions of the distant future, written in a style that stirs the reader to reaction and response. Here, in this award winning story, he once more spins his seductive magic.
Nebula Award, Best Novella 1966
Jack Vance THE LAST CASTLE
Toward the end of a stormy summer afternoon, with the sun finally breaking out under ragged black rain clouds, Castle Janeil was overwhelmed and its population destroyed.
Until almost the last moment the factions among the castle clans were squabbling as to how Destiny properly should be met. The gentlemen of most prestige and account elected to ignore the entire undignified circumstance and went about their normal pursuits, with neither more nor less punctilio than usual. A few cadets, desperate to the point of hysteria, took up weapons and prepared to resist the final assault. Others still, perhaps a quarter of the total population, waited passively, readyalmost happyto expiate the sins of the human race.
In the end death came uniformly to all; and all extracted as much satisfaction in their dying as this essentially graceless process could afford. The proud sat turning the pages of their beautiful books, or discussing the qualities of a centufy-old essence, or fondling a favorite Phane. They died without deigning to heed the fact. The hot-heads raced up the muddy slope which, outraging all normal rationality, loomed above the parapets of Janeil. Most were buried under sliding rubble, but a few gained the ridge to gun, hack, stab, until they themseves were shot, crushed by the half-alive power-wagons, hacked or stabbed. The contrite waited in the classic posture of expiation, on their knees, heads bowed, and perished, so they believ
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