Science Fiction Stories

A man who sleeps for two hundred and three years, waking up in a completely transformed London, where, because of compound interest on his bank accounts, he has become the richest man in the world.

"I am the last of my type existing today in all the Solar System. I, too, am the last existing who, in memory, sees the struggle for this System, and in memory I am still close to the Center of Rulers, for mine was the ruling type then. But I will pass soon, and with me will pass the last of my kind, a poor inefficient type, but yet the creators of those who are now, and will be, long after I pass forever..."

A simple man trying to eek out a living has an encounter that changes his life forever.

This is about the best-hated author on Earth. Who was necessarily pampered and petted because of his crime against humanity....

A man can be killed by a toy gun--he can die of fright, for heart attacks can kill. What, then, is the deadly thing that must be sealed away, forever locked in buried concrete--a thing or an idea?

Being two men rolled out of one would solve my problems--but which one would I be?

This guard smelled trouble and it could be counted on to come--for a nose for trouble was one of the many talents bred here!

Achieving immortality is only half of the problem. The other half is knowing how to live with it once it's been made possible--and inescapable!

He didn't expect to be last-but neither did he anticipate the horror of being the first!

A 1919 pulp-press tale of deepest darkest Africa.