I suppose there are people out there who don’t like science fiction. I don’t have to suppose that. It’s a fact. But today I’m reading Alastair Reynolds’ Revelation Space and I can’t imagine anything better.
This is what fiction is about. Speculation. And yes there are planet destroying weapons and tense chases through the ancient foreshadowing dead city but there are ideas going on. Running wild throughout the pages. I wish I could do that kind of thing.
My favourite thing about sf is relativistic space travel. The whole idea of the traveller working off long out of date information while moving between worlds in some sort of cryogenic sleep just makes me happy. It’s the kind of thing I’ll never get to experience for real, that accumulation of history between one moment and the next. It’s too bad about this whole four score and ten allotment.
