4 • Checklists • [Editorial (Analog)] • essay via Trevor Quachri
• eight • song to Me • [Floyd and Brittney] • novella by way of Richard A. Lovett
• forty • lights Up the mind: using Electromagnetic Radiation to Stimulate Neurons • [Science truth (Analog)] • essay via Kyle Kirkland
• forty nine • not anything to worry • poem through Kate Gladstone
• forty nine •  Nothing to worry • inside paintings by way of uncredited
• 50 • Mousunderstanding • shortstory via Carl Frederick
• 50 •  Mousunderstanding • inside paintings via Joshua Meehan
• sixty one • Wine, ladies, and Stars • shortstory via Thoraiya Dyer
• 70 • this can be As I desire to Be Restored • shortstory via Christie Yant
• seventy three • In instances to come back (Analog, January-February 2014) • [In occasions to return (Analog)] • essay through uncredited
• seventy four • Product recollects • poem via Mary A. Turzillo
• seventy five •  Product recollects • inside paintings through uncredited
• seventy six • The Tansy Tree • novelette by way of Rob Chilson
• seventy six •  The Tansy Tree • inside paintings via Zelda Devon
• ninety one • the matter with Reproducible insects • shortstory by way of Marie DesJardin
• ninety six • similar to Grandma Used to Make • shortstory by means of Brenta Blevins
• ninety eight • Racing Prejudice • shortstory by way of John Frye, III
• a hundred • On Investigating Heretical Gizmos • [The exchange View] • essay through Jeffery D. Kooistra
• 103 • Technological Plateau • shortstory by way of Michael Turton
• one hundred ten • This Quiet airborne dirt and dust • shortstory through Karl Bunker
• one hundred ten •  This Quiet airborne dirt and dust • inside paintings via Kurt Huggins
• one hundred twenty • decided Spirits • novelette by means of gray Rollins
• 132 • Lockstep (Part 2 of four) • serial via Karl Schroeder
• 132 •  Lockstep • inside paintings by way of Mark Evans
• one hundred eighty • The Reference Library (Analog, January-February 2014) • [The Reference Library] • essay via Don Sakers
• 181 •   overview: Mars, Inc.: The Billionaire's membership by means of Ben Bova • assessment by means of Don Sakers
• 182 •   evaluation: Ghost Spin by way of Chris Moriarty • evaluation through Don Sakers
• 182 •   evaluation: at the Razor's area by means of Michael Flynn • assessment via Don Sakers
• 183 •   evaluate: Transcendental by way of James Gunn • evaluate by way of Don Sakers
• 183 •   assessment: John Carter and the Gods of Hollywood via Michael D. dealers • evaluation through Don Sakers
• 184 • Brass Tacks (Analog, January-February 2014) • [Brass Tacks] • essay by means of numerous
• 184 •  Letter: the writer Responds ... (Analog, January-February 2014) • essay by way of Haris A. Durrani
• 186 •  Letter (Analog, January-February 2014) • essay through Rick Norwood
• 187 • 2013 Index (Analog, January-February 2014) • essay by means of uncredited
• one hundred ninety • It's Anlab Time back (Analog, January-February 2014) • essay by means of uncredited
• 192 • Upcoming occasions (Analog, January-February 2014) • [Upcoming occasions] • essay via Anthony R. Lewis [as via Anthony Lewis ]

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Additional info for Analog Science Fiction and Fact (January-February 2014)

Example text

It was too much. Peter giggled, then laughed hard. He smiled at the boy, fondly amused for the moment. He turned abruptly and walked toward the porch steps, and would have gone back into the house if he hadn't heard Coke Rymer come stamping after him. He looked and ducked; began backing again slowly and carefully. The knife was shining in Coke's hand; the boy held it loosely but confidently. This was different, he could kill him with that knife, he was that silly. Peter felt completely at a loss, kept his balance gingerly and made himself stop looking at the weapon.

He pictured his long body lying all white and drained. Perhaps there would be a funeral for him in the brick house, in the dark disused sun parlor there, his body lying in a soft casket beside the disordered piano. But he knew that that was all wrong. There was no doubt he would be cast just as he lay into an open field and left to ferment in the sun. Muskrat food. Yet this seemed appropriate; it was, after all, a proper burial, wasn't it? He wouldn't expect any more than this for himself. In fact, he would stop expecting.

Especially when it's some chicken bastard like you. I don't know what you're doing, hanging around here anyhow. Why don't you just cut out while you got the chance? There ain't nothing to hold you here. If I was you I'd just point myself on the road and get gone. Without hesitating, almost without thinking, he aimed a kick at the blond boy's knee; missed. His foot caught him on the lower thigh. Coke Rymer blundered backward a couple of steps. You're right mean, ain't you? By God, we'll see about that.

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