Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    The Sixth Day
    The Sixth Day
    The Sixth Day
    Ebook191 pages1 hour

    The Sixth Day

    By Terry Bisson

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Hugo and Nebula Award-winning author Terry Bisson's thrilling sci-fi novel The Sixth Day, now a major motion picture starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Michael Rapaport!

    Cloning humans is illegal—that is until family man Adam Gibson comes home from work one day to find a clone has replaced him. Taken from his family and plunged into a sinister world he doesn't understand, Gibson must not only save himself from the assassins who must now destroy him to protect their secret, but uncover who and what is behind the horrible things happening to him.

    At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMacmillan Publishers
    Release dateDec 8, 2015
    ISBN9780765390066
    The Sixth Day
    Author

    Terry Bisson

    Terry Bisson (1942-2024) was the American science fiction and fantasy author of the Hugo- and Nebula Award-winning short story "Bears Discover Fire," as well as the widely-reprinted, all-dialogue short story "They're Made Out of Meat." His many novels include Talking Man, Fire on the Mountain, Voyage to the Red Planet, Pirates of the Universe, and The Pickup Artist. He also published several volumes of short fiction, including Bears Discover Fire and Other Stories, In the Upper Room and Other Likely Stories, Greetings, and TVA Baby and Other Stories.

    Related to The Sixth Day

    Related ebooks

    General Fiction For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Destination nowheresville, U.s.a.

      Apr 13, 2023

      I CAN’T SAY I’M SOME SORT OF INTERSTATE SUPERFAN—I’M not planning on showing up at HighwayCon cosplaying as a median anytime soon—but it’s just facts that the stretch of I-70 between Denver and Cisco, Utah, is one of the best roads in the country. I

      11 min read

    • Article

      Future Shock

      Oct 5, 2023

      Future Shock
      3 min read

    • Article

      Playing God

      Apr 10, 2023

      After Jack was abducted by the alien spaceship, and after the round vessel had vanished into the Milky Way, he found himself walking down a tubular corridor with white vibrating walls, escorted by a sinuous blonde who smiled graciously and said her n

      13 min read

    • Article

      Islanders

      Oct 13, 2022

      Islanders
      8 min read

    • Article

      The Accidental Activist

      Aug 17, 2023

      The Accidental Activist
      5 min read

    • Article

      Movie Novels Are Still Around, And They Aren't All Trash — Just Ask The Chicagoans Who Wrote Them

      Apr 1, 2020

      CHICAGO - Recently, during C2E2 at McCormick Place, the Random House imprint Del Rey, which publishes Lucasfilm-licensed "Star Wars" books, made an unusual choice and offered the novelization of "Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker" three weeks early. A

      9 min read

    • Article

      Aloha In A Cup

      Dec 6, 2022

      Aloha In A Cup
      3 min read

    • Article

      Tunnel Visions

      May 4, 2021

      Tunnel Visions
      3 min read

    • Article

      Tea Fortž

      Dec 7, 2021

      Tea Fortž
      4 min read

    • Article

      The thirteenth Day

      Apr 14, 2022

      The thirteenth Day
      31 min read

    • Article

      Rolling On Into 2022

      Feb 8, 2022

      As lovers of the whiskey industry, change and adaptation is something that we all come to expect and encourage. However, if the world of spirits has taught us anything, sometimes it can be the smallest alterations that make the biggest difference in

      3 min read

    • Article

      Teatime in Austin

      Aug 2, 2022

      Teatime in Austin
      9 min read

    • Article

      Vaults and Value

      Oct 3, 2023

      Vaults and Value
      2 min read

    • Article

      Skunks: Stinky But Sweet

      Nov 13, 2021

      What’s the secret behind skunks’ odor? Skunks have two scent glands at the base of their tails that produce a super-strong sulphur compound (think rotten eggs but much worse). They can keep only about a tablespoon of this liquid on tap, and it takes

      2 min read

    • Article

      Prime Contact

      Sep 1, 2023

      Prime Contact
      2 min read

    • Article

      Krash Newz

      Aug 5, 2021

      Krash Newz
      5 min read

    • Article

      Crate Chair

      Feb 17, 2020

      Crate Chair
      4 min read

    • Article

      Seriously Good Film and TV

      Nov 1, 2023

      Film critic Bill Newcott offers his entertainment picks for mature audiences (In theaters November 10) Among the most anticipated films at this year's Toronto International Film Festival was this dramatic comedy from twotime Oscar-winning writer/dire

      1 min read

    • Article

      Going Rogue

      Jul 26, 2022

      Going Rogue
      2 min read

    • Article

      The Library of Gromma

      Jul 10, 2023

      Zac was sweating and panting as he reached the top of the hill. The crooked beams of the library loomed over him. He dropped the buckets of water, swore at the few drops that spilled, and escaped the piercing morning sun in the shade of the library.

      22 min read

    • Article

      Killers Of The Flower Moon

      Oct 17, 2023

      Killers Of The Flower Moon
      1 min read

    • Article

      Tea-rrific Kettles

      Dec 6, 2022

      Tea-rrific Kettles
      1 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for The Sixth Day

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      The Sixth Day - Terry Bisson

      One

      The sky was dark as velvet, pierced by stars.

      Stars no one, on this planet anyway, was watching.

      All eyes were on the grass, which was that bright, electric, astro-green seen only in football stadiums, on network television, with the contrast set on HIGH.

      Stadium green.

      Sunday grass.

      The crowd surrounding the football field was agitated, excited, but murmuring rather than screaming. Taking a deep breath, as it were, between plays.

      While the two opposing teams huddled on the field, a sparkling Chrysler 300 sedan, two and a half times normal size, slowly spun in the air over the fifty-yard line—a holographic display, visible not only on TV, but from every one of the twenty-two thousand seats in the stadium as well.

      Football was big time; advertising was big business.

      The announcer’s voice reached twelve million (12.1765 million, to be precise) sets of ears via TV consoles, headsets, car radios, and stadium speakers.

      Big third down for the expansion Road Runners! Their playoff hopes could hinge on this play. A lot of pressure for quarterback Johnny Phoenix!

      The subject of the eulogy (or was it a premature elegy?) confirmed the play, nodded to his receivers, and dismissed the huddle.

      As if being the first player to break three hundred million isn’t enough pressure! another announcer added as the teams faced off on the line of scrimmage.

      The burly center leaned over the ball.

      The quarterback, Johnny Phoenix, cupped his hands and spat on his fingers; looked left, looked right. His linemen were poised like hammers, ready to strike. His receivers were coiled like steel springs, ready to dart into action.

      With a flick of his eyes, Johnny Phoenix checked the head-up display inside his helmet: 6-4 flex. Danger: Possible blitz.

      What else is new? he thought wryly.

      The crowd fell almost silent as the quarterback called the numbers in a tense monotone:

      Red 26, red 26 hut! Hut! Hut!

      Smack!

      The ball was in his hands … and Johnny Phoenix’s hands knew just what to do.

      His feet knew just what to do.

      He danced back from the line of scrimmage as the two teams collided—tons of groaning, grunting, grinding flesh, canvas and plastic.

      Wham! Crack! Ungh!

      There’s the receiver, right where he oughta be!

      All of Johnny Phoenix’s dreams, skills and ambitions—all his years of training and practice and work—narrowed to a blinding point of light as he pulled back for the throw that was going to win the game …

      Whamp!

      Then everything went dark as he was blindsided by a 271 pound tackle who had sashayed and twisted his way between two defenders.

      Sacked! was his last grim thought as he fell.

      And fell and fell …

      Down into a darkness that was silent and still.

      Too silent. Too still.

      Why doesn’t it hurt? Johnny wondered as the darkness lapped over his mind, like waves erasing a sand castle.

      There was not enough pain. Not nearly enough pain.

      *   *   *

      The gurney was pushed down the corridor on whispering wheels. The man on it lay perfectly, eerily still.

      An electronic display on one side of the gurney showed heartbeat, respiration, all the vital signs.

      All of them were within range, but barely.

      The respirator over Johnny Phoenix’s mouth and nose expanded and contracted as he breathed.

      In. Out. In. Out.

      The yin and yang of life itself, thought the team doctor pushing the gurney. He watched the young man’s face, then the monitor. He was breathing, but that was about all. He wouldn’t even be breathing without the respirator.

      The man walking on the other side of the gurney looked worried. Marshall was with the team’s front office. What he had to tell the doctor, the doctor already knew.

      The owner wants Johnny to get the best of care.

      He’s going to need it, the doctor said. His sixth cervical vertebra is crushed.

      The doctor touched a button and the electronic monitor on the gurney printed out a damage scan.

      He handed it to Marshall, who took it without a word.

      With proper care and animatronics, said the doctor, he’ll eventually walk again.

      Marshall wadded up the scan and stuck it deep into the inside pocket of his $2200 Milano suit. We’ll be getting a second opinion, he said. Perhaps it’s not as bad as you think.

      The doctor shrugged, and turned the gurney over to two ambulance attendants at the end of the corridor. Quickly, in one practiced move, they collapsed the legs and shoved the assembly—electronic monitors and all—into the rear of a waiting ambulance.

      Marshall jumped into the back with the injured player.

      The team doctor started to join him.

      Marshall slammed the door in his face.

      *   *   *

      Sirens blaring, the ambulance raced through the night.

      Inside, Johnny Phoenix lay breathing in and out. The respirator hissed:

      Yin. Yang.

      Yin. Yang.

      Marshall sat at Johnny’s head, speaking into a cell phone. He didn’t bother to lower his voice. Johnny Phoenix was out cold. But even if he were wide awake, and listening, and understanding—what did it matter?

      The status? Marshall spat into the phone. We have a lifetime contract with a guy with a broken back!

      Marshall leaned over and flicked Johnny’s ear. No response.

      Maybe we could trade him to LA… Marshall joked into the phone. Sure, I’ll get right on it.

      He clicked the phone shut and put it away in the pocket of his suit.

      Then he reached for the electronic monitor on the gurney and found the button marked RESPIRATOR.

      Sorry, Johnny, he said in a soft, matter-of-fact voice. You gotta take one for the team.

      He hit the button and turned off the respirator. The hissing stopped.

      The yin, the yang … no more.

      Marshall looked toward the front of the ambulance. The two attendants were watching the road. They couldn’t hear what was going on in the back anyway.

      Marshall watched as the heart display on the monitor fluctuated wildly, peaked … beep beep beep … and flat-lined.

      Then he looked away, already thinking about something else.

      Two

      Adam Gibson wiped the fog off the bathroom mirror.

      He studied his face. He looked ordinary, he thought—though some might have said handsome. In need of a shave.

      Intelligent. Resourceful.

      Determined—though some might have said stubborn. He looked like what he was: a man at peace with himself and his life.

      But not this morning. Anxiety and vanity overtake even the most sensible, the most resourceful, the most contented men at least once a year, and Adam was worriedly looking for signs of the great destroyer, age.

      Do I look different to you? he called out.

      No one answered.

      He poked his head around the door and looked into the bedroom. His wife was just stirring on the big double bed.

      As usual, Adam felt overwhelmed by Natalie’s beauty. His aesthetic senses were amplified by the fact that her quilt had fallen off her sleeping form, and her curves—even at forty—were lush and full.

      Huh? Natalie yawned sleepily, covering herself with the quilt. She studied her husband. You shaved your mustache?

      Adam shook his head ruefully. I never had a mustache.

      Then, no.

      Adam gave up. He pushed the defogger below the bathroom mirror, and the whoosh of air quickly cleared the glass.

      He resumed the study of himself in the mirror. "I don’t feel any different."

      In the other room, Natalie sat up in the bed. Is Clara up?

      She’s watching TV with Oliver, said Adam.

      Natalie let the quilt fall from her shoulders. Are you going to spend the day looking for new wrinkles? Or are you going to come on in and give me a kiss?

      Oh, well, said Adam, heading into the bedroom. I suppose I have to.

      Whack! He was hit on the side of the head with a pillow.

      Before she could launch another pillow, Natalie was toppled over onto the bed by Adam. He held her down with both hands while he nailed her with a kiss.

      "You don’t look any different, he said. You look exactly … no, you look better than the day I met you."

      Natalie dropped the second pillow and looked at her husband with slightly misty, laughing eyes. If you’re trying to get your present early—it worked.

      She reached behind her and pulled a wrapped package from the drawer of the bedside table.

      Happy birthday, honey.

      Adam sat up and smiled, surprised, then delighted. He unwrapped the package quickly, greedily—more like a kid than a middle-aged man.

      His face lit up with delight when he saw what it was: A cigar butt and a Zippo

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1