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She sought a bridge where she would be able to discern the damages caused by the fire. She did not want to lose the spectacle, when the dolls would begin to burn. The fire needs to reach the tracks. There it will become a whirlwind and soon everything would be in flames. His escort remained, with great reluctance from Captain Vaz Pinto, posted at the entrance of the cave, securing the horses that are particularly nervous in this suffocating night. Much further ahead.

The prince finds himself in the darkest part of the route where neither the light of the torches which preced them, nor the light of the place where it is directed, manage to illuminate it. He walks slowly, testing the irregular floor with his feet, attempting to find a compromise between the dignified posture of a future monarch and the caution necessary in order not to trip on the rocks and holes which are hidden in the dark.

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Slowly, meter by meter, the small point of orange light grows, the heat and humidity increase, the sulfurous stench makes it more difficult each time to breathe. Beyond his activity as professor and programmer he writes publicity texts specializing in the area of direct marketing.

He has various stories published in Brazilian and Portuguese anthologies. Alguns sentimentos, por exemplo. No meu caso, a Inglaterra, onde nasci.

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When you are a double agent, you must learn to live with unpleasant situations. Some sentiments, for example. The first is guilt; it is not easy to act secretly against the country you consider your motherland.

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In my case, England, where I was born. It is necessary to be constantly spending in review the various motives that lead you to act in favor of the enemy in order to be able to go forward, and to convince yourself of them is often difficult.

Moreover, there exists the fear and shame of the simple thought of being discovered by your countrymen. On the other hand, at the same time in which I try to convince myself of the nobility of my intentions, in the moment in which I secretly sell my services to France, precariously supported on shoulders many times hardened by despicable things that I lived and witnessed, there is no avoiding of low self-esteem and no ignoring the disappointment of the disdain and derision in the depth of those eyes to whom you secretly serve.

Finally, before anything else you are a traitor and are a native of an enemy country, and they are not able to stop thinking if, one time a traitor, you will not do it again. If that one time served to save my life and give origin to the double life which I live today, ironically it is a burden which I am obliged to carry through dangerous days and sleepless nights.

He wrote during all his infancy, due to this he plays football poorly. One day he decided he would be a doctor and write as a hobby, or be a writer and practice medicine as a hobby. As a last result, he opted for the former. He graduated with a degree in medicine and became an ophthalmologist. Quatro anos mais tarde, graduava-se como primeiro cadete da turma de The recent changes brought to the region led him to reflect on his own life. In truth, he was already advanced in years, but he judged to have motives more than sufficient to be proud of his career.

After the normal training period at Cerca de Subupira during adolescence, he proceeded to the port of Ipojuca and entered the Naval Academy.

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Four years later, he graduated as First Cadet in the class of Nine years later, now 31 years old, when he served as First Mate on the proud frigate Henrique Dias, he received that visit from a double agent that would change his life. Mas ouve-o. The passarolas lift off from the field, slow and grandiose, one after the other. But he can hear. The grinding of the ropes and the hollow sound of the bamboo levers, the shouts of the maneuvering masters, the imperative orders of the officers, and, above all else, the crackle of the flames devouring the coals and the hiss of the gases escaping in a whirlpool from the recipients where they are guarded under pressure, fill the small ancillary balloons surrounding the long main set of balloons locked in a net, where the coats-of-arms of the Nation and of the Corps protrude discreetly from the aerial camouflage.

He has belonged to the Air Corps for almost two years now, after having been forcibly taken from his home village by the recruiters of the Earl of Alvor. A massive taking of boys and younger men, even married ones, a few questions asked by a man of strange accent, some subordinate from an island, maybe even a colony, and a scratched piece of paper proffered to the parents, all weepy because such is the role that the burden of parenthood has given them, but secretly relieved because now they have one mouth less to feed.

The piece of paper is certainly to be found in the village, well-kept in] the chest of family treasures, along with the crucifix and the pair of earrings that his mother used only once, on the day of her wedding, without any of its members having ever read it, even though his mother perhaps had at some point asked the local priest or senhor Francisco, scrivener for the magistrate, to translate for her the scribbles into something she could possibly understand. First because he was told, and, later, to read and write papers such as that one was part of the things he learned before putting his eyes for the first time in a passarola.

Jorge Candeias is an Algarve Portuguese and has developed in recent years intense activity in media connected to SF and fantasy on both sides of the Atlantic although more over there than here, for obvious logistic reasons. Currently making a living as a translator, he has on his resume a pair of translations of which he is proud. He also has a short book, Sally stories appearing in Portuguese, Brazilian, English, and Argentine publications, both on paper and in bits.

Tristeza, misturada a um desespero mudo, aprisionado, interdito: o olhar que eu esperaria ver na face do Velho Marujo de Coleridge. Qual a menor unidade viva que poderia ser recriada mecanicamente? Uma mosca? A perna de uma mosca?

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O pelo na perna…. What I propose is this: to look at the seed as if it were the machine that builds the tree, in the same way that pulleys and levers built the pyramids. In that day, he brought for the first time to my home his bronze hound, which ran, amused, after a butterfly in twilight, while the polished metal of its body gleamed under the almost horizontal rays of the setting sun, emerald-tinted by the translucent forest.

I wonder to what point this imitation could go. What is the smallest living thing that could be recreated mechanically? A fly? The leg of a fly? A hair in the leg of a…. The true complexity, in order to be recreated, requires first the understanding of the simplest particle. Estamos em guerra, uma guerra como nenhuma outra.

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O que os bruxos uruguaios evocaram dessa vez? O medo exalava como o aroma das especiarias. O soldado passava por um treinamento rigoroso e precisava jurar confidencialidade sobre as atividades conduzidas, sob pena de parar no fundo do oceano. The Botanical Garden of Rio de Janeiro. The dense forest and the noises of the night fed the imagination of the soldiers, already shaken by that very unusual day.

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The many stories spread around town had in common only the sheer absurdity of them. Each and every soldier, slave, or merchant changed details in ways that mirrored their own fears. We are at war, a war like no other. We have been attacked by creatures of other world, so apart we are from the Holy Church. That can only be a scheme of Argentina, a new plot concocted by that bunch of envious rascals. What had the Uruguayan sorcerers summoned this time? Fear wafted around like the aroma of the spices. The high summer heat was in its peak for more than a month now.

Clove, cinnamon, and rosemary, so pleasant when taken separately, started to sicken the already weak men, foreheads dripping with sweat. Being a security guard of the research area was a respected job, though merciless. Every soldier underwent a rigorous training and had to swear utter secrecy about the activities conducted there, under penalty of going to the bottom of the ocean.

To the applicants, the expression having his world turned upside down acquired a fresh meaning. Pedro II took very seriously his goal of turning the country into a technological power that would make the Englishmen envious and his neighbors really angry. They had come with the poor excuse of stopping the slave trade, but they were still in Brazilian waters, changing every year the explanations from their representatives to be there. Eric Novello is a translator, writer, and scriptwriter.