Fantas

  Books by ROBERT SILVERBERG Valentine Pontifex

  Lord of Darkness

  World of a Thousand Colors Maiipoor Chronicles

  Lord Valentine's Castle Dying Inside

  The Book of Skulls

  The Stochastic Man

  Nightwings

  Shadrach in the Furnace

  Books Edited bv ROBERT SIf,YERBERG WITH NT1'NTI/N H. GREENBERG

  The Arbor House Treasury of Science Fiction Masterpieces The Arbor House Treasury of Modern Science Fiction

  The Arbor House Treasury of Great Science Fiction Short Novels

  Other Books Edited by MARTIN H. GREENBERG The Arbor House Celebritv Book of the Greatest Stories

  Ever Told (with Charles G. Waugh)

  The Arbot House Treasury o[ Great Western Stories

  (with Bill Pronzini)

  The Arbor House Celebrity Book of Horror Stories (with Charles G. Waugh)

  Tomortow, Inc.-SF Stories about Big Business Run to Starlight: Sports through Science Fiction

  The

  Fantas

  Hall of Fame

  Compiled by ROBERT SILVERBERG and MARTIN H, GREENBERG

  .4.

  -a W

  EI'Z

  ARBOR HOUSE New York

  Copyfight @ 1983 by Robert Silverberg and Martin H. Greenberg

  AIl rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Published in the United States of Ameica by

  Arbor House Publishing Company and in Canada by Fitzhenty d Whiteside, Ltd.

  Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number: 83'48721

  ISBN: 0-87795-521-2

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1098765432

  This book is printed on acid free paper. The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on

  Library Resources.

  This page constitutes an extension of the copyright page.

  "The Woman of the Wood," by Abraham Menitt. Copyright @ 1926 by Abraham Menitt. Copyfight renewed 1954 by Abtaham Menitt. Reprinted by permission of Brandt d tuandt Literary Agents, Inc.

  "The Weird of Avoosl Wuthoqquan," by Clark Ashton Smith. Copyright @ 1932 by Popular Fiction Company; copyright renewed by the authon Reprinted by permission of the agents for the author's estate and Scott Meredith Literary Agency, Inc., 845 Third Avenue, New York, N.y. 10022. "The Valley of the Wotm," by Robert E. Howard. Copyight @ 1954 by Popular Fiction Publishing Company for Weird Tales, February 1934. Reprinted by permission of Glenn Lord, agent for the Robert E. Howard heirs. "Black God's Kr'ss," by C.L. Moore. Copyright @ 1934, renewed 1961 by C.L. Moore. Reprinted by permission of Don Congdon Associates, Inc. "The Silver Key," by H.P. Lovecraft. Copyright @ 193T by popular Fiction Publishing Company; copyright renewed. Reprinted by permission of the author and the author's agents, Scott Meredith Literary Agency, Inc., 845 Third Avenue, New York, New York 10022.

  "Nothinginthe Rules," by L. Sprague de Camp. Copyilght @ 19A9 by Sfteet and Smith Publications, Inc. Copyright renewed 1966 by L. Sprague de Camp. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  'A Gnome There Was," by Henry Kuttner. Copyright @ 1941, renewed 1969 by Catherine Moore Kuttner, Reprinted by permission of Don Congdon Associates, Inc.

  "Snulbug,"'by Anthony Boucher Copyright @ 1941 by Street and Smith Publications, Inc. Reprinted by permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd.

  "The Words of Guru," by C.M. Kornbluth. Copytight @ 1941 by Albing Publications. Reprinted by permission of Robert p. Mills, Ltd. "Homecomin4," by Ray Bradbuty. Copyilght @ 1946, renewed 1978 by Ray Bradbury. Reprinted by permission of Don Congdon Associates, Inc. "Mazirian the Magician," by lack Vance. Copyight @ 1950 by lack Vance, Reprinted by permission of Krby McCauley, Ltd.

  "O USly Bird!," by Manly Wade Wellman. Copyright @ 1951 by Mercury Press. From The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Reginted by permission of Kirby McCauley, Ltd.

  "The Silken Swift," by Theodore Suugeon. Copyright @ 1953 by Mercury Prcss. From The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Reprinted by permission of Kirby McCauley, Ltd.

  "The Golem," by Avram Davidson. Copyright @ 1955 by Mercury Press. Reptinted by permission of the author.

  "That Hell-Bound Train," by Robert Bloch. Copyright @ 1958 by Mercury Press. From The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Reprinted by permission of Kfuy McCauley, Ltd.

  "ICngs in Darkness," by Michael Moorcock. Copyright @ 1962 by Michael Moorcock. Reprinted by permission of Wallace d Sheil Agency, Inc.

  "Pretty Maggie Moneyeyes," by Harlan Ellison. Copytight A D67 by Harlan Ellison. Reprinted with permission of , and by anangement with, the author and the author's agent, Richard Curtis Associates, Inc., New York. A11 ilghts resewed.

  "Gonna Roll the Bones," by Fritz Leiber. Copyright @ 1967 by Hailan EIIison. Reginted by permission of Robert P. Mills, Ltd.

  "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas," by Ursula K. Le Guin. Copyright @ 1973, 1975 by Ursula K. Le Guin. Repilnted by permission of the author and the author's agent, Vtuginia Kidd.

  Contents

  Introduction 9

  The Masque of the Red Death EDGAR

  ALLAN poE 13

  An Inhabitant of Carcosa AMBRosE

  BTERCE 2l

  The Sword of Welleran LoRD DUNsANv 26

  The Women of the Wood A. MERRrrr 42

  The Weird of Avoosl Wuthoqquan

  CLARK ASHToN SMITH 76

  The Valley of the Worm RoBERT E. HowARD 86

  Black God's Kiss c. L. MooRe 110

  The Silver Rey H. P. LovECRAFT I43 Notlring in the Rules L. spRAcuE DE cAMp 157

  A Gnome Therc Was HENRY KUTTNER l9l

  Snulbug ANTHoNY BoucHER 22I

  The Words of Guru c. M. KoRNBLUTH 239

  Homecoming RAY BRADBURY 248

  Mazfuian the Magician JACK vANCe 263 O Ugly Bird! MANLY wADE wELLMAN 282 The Silken Swift THEoDoRE sruRGEoN 296

  The Golem AvRAM DAvTDSoN 318

  That HeII-Bound Train RoBERT BLocH 325 Kings in Darkness MTcHAEL MooRcocK 34I Pretty Maggie Moneyeyes HARLAN ELLrsoN 375

  Gonna Roll the Bones FRrrz LETBER 399 The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas

  URSULA K. LE curN 424

  Introduction

  THE PHENOMENON of the science fiction convention_a gathering of readers and writers for the mutual exchange of ideas and general social amusement-goes back nearly tllty years. originally they were small-scale events held in obscure meeting rooms, but currently the annual world Science Fiction convention is a major happening with six or seven thousand attendees, and most of the best-known writers are present and remarkably accessible to their readers. It is at the world science Fiction convention that the Hugo award has been presented each year since 1953, honoring the best stories of the year as determined by vote of the convention's members.

  When the writers of science fiction founded their own professional organization, the science Fiction writers of America, in 1965, a second award structure developed: the annual Nebula award, chosen by vote of the writers themselves and presented at a formal meeting that has taken on many of the aspects of a full-scale convention, though it is limited only to those who are professionaily involved with science fiction. when the science Fiction writers of America was a few years old, sentiment developed for a kind of retroactive Nebula award to honor great stories that had been published prior to SFWA,s founding; and so the members were polled for nominations for a science Fiction Hall of Fame, to include the best s-{ stories of the preNebula period. It was my privilege to edit the volume that contained the winning short

  storles (The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One, Doubleday & Co., I97O.l A later Hall of Fame volume, edited by Ben Bova, contained the winning stories of novelette and nov-ella length, which had intentionally been excluded from the first book.

  And now, following the example o{ the science fiction world, the readers o{ {antasy fiction have begun holding their own conventions, presenting their own annual awards, and-inevitably-creating their own Hall of Fame to celebrate the classic stories of that genre.

  I would not care to get entangled in any extensive effort to draw definitional boundaries between science fiction and fantasy. I have my own rough idea of the di{ferences between the two {ields, which is operationally use{ul in an abstract sort of way, but I know (and so does everyone else who has tried to draw these distinctions) that even the best definition is likely to break down into illogicality and inconsistency under close examination. The furthest I will venture is to say that science fiction is that branch of fantasy which generally deals in extrapolations of the consequences of technological development, and which attempts to stick fairly rigorously to known or theoretically possible scientific concepts. Fantasy is a much broader field o{ fiction that is less firmly bound to the tyranny of fact, and for the purposes of any given story is permitted to assume nearly any idea as plausible, though it is desirable for the author to elicit a suspension of disbelief through the plausible development of a basically unlikely notion. Thus I tend to think of stories about spaceships, robots, computers and the like as science fiction, and o{ stories about vampires, werewolves, angels and such as fantasy. But I can illustrate the impossibility of making any of these definitions stick {or long by telling you that I myself recently wrote a story ("Basileus" ) in which a computer was used to generate angels' Fantasy? Science fiction?

  Be that as it may,
the readers of fantasy seem to have a

  Iairly clear idea most of the time of what they consider fantasy to be, and at the annual conventions that they have held since 1975 they have presented the World Fantasy Award-a statuette of the fantasy master H. p. Lovecraft-to recognize the year's outstanding work in their field. These award-winning stories have been collected in a series of anthologies.

  And now the members of the World Fantasy Conventions of 1981 and 1982 have voted on a Fantasy Hall of Fame, which, like the corresponding science fiction volume, takes in those masterpieces that were published before the inception of their annual award program. Because of my involvement in developing and creating the Hall of Fame volumes for the Science Fiction Writers of America, I was asked-along with my invaluable and indefatigable collaborator in many anthologies, Martin H. Greenberg-to assemble the book for publication (on Halloween, the traditional time for holding the World Fantasy Convention! ). Ballots were distributed asking the convention members to name their favorites, elaborate tabulation processes were performed, and here at last we have, in one volume, the finest stories of all time.

  The finest of all time? A presumptuous statement, perhaps-considering that fantasy is perhaps the oidest of all the branches of imaginative literature, that it goes back at least as far as the Gilgamesh legend of Mesopotamia and perhaps back to the tales that were told in the caves of Altamira and Lascaux. But the Cro-Magnon fantasy stories, alas, are not at the moment accessible to us, and for the purposes of this volume we also thought it best to ignore such things as classical mythology, Gfimm's Fairy Tales, A Thousand and One Nigftts and such other works which are undeniably masterpieces of fantasy but which were not quite what everyone had in mind for this particular book. What we have, really, is the Hall of Fame of modern fantasy, a specialized field of fiction that has certain special delights well known to ail its aficionados. It is those aficionados who chose these stories: a panel

  of hundreds of experts, to whom ghosts and ghouls and things that go bump in the night are iust as familiar as computers and robots , arrd are, perhaps, somewhat more plausible.

  -Robert Silverberg

  Oakland, California

  May 1, 1983

  The lulasque of the Red Death

  by EDGAR ALLAN POE

  THE "RED DEATH" has long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, ot so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal-the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress, and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an hour.

  But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half ciepopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong

  and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress nor egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of.frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world would take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the 'Red Death.'

  It was toward the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, and while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince Prospero entertained his thousand friends, at a masked ball of the most unusual magnificence.

  It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of the rooms in which it was held. There were seven-an imperial suite. In many palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista, while the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand, so that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the case was very different; as might have been expected from the duke's love of the bizarue. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each tum a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose color varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations of the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for example, in blue-and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were purple. The

  third was green throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange-the fifth with white-the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same material and hue. But in the chamber only, the color of the windows failed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were scarlet-a deep blood color. Now in no one of the seven apartments was there any lamp or candelabrum, amid the profusion of golden ornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof. There was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the suite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there stood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of fire, that proiected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly illumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and fantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber the effect of the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the blood-tinted panes was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a look upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of the company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.

  It was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western wall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a dull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute-hand made the circuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from the brazen lungs of the clock, a sound which was clear and loud and deep and exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were constrained to pause/ momentarily, in their performance, to hearken to the sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and there was a brief disconcert o{ the whole gay compan/; and, while the chimes of the clock yet rang, it

  was observed that the giddiest grew pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully ceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians looked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and folly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next chiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and then, after the lapse of sixty minutes (which embrace three thousand and six hundred seconds of the Time that flies!, there came yet another chiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and tremulousness and meditation as before.

  But, in spite of these things, it was ^ gay and magnificent revel. The tastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colors and effects. He disregarded the decora of mere fashion. His plans were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric luster. There are some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he was not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be sure that he was not.

  He had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven chambers, upon occasion of this great flte; and it was his own guiding taste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were grotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy and phantasm-much of what has been since seen in "Hernani. " There were arabesque figures