A war journalist gets a little too close to his subject in the near future.
Fleeing global destruction, their race had to make hard decisions. Being a single guy with few connections in this world, sometimes he had to make hard decisions too.
They were strange folk, no doubt. Still, they seemed good people, willing to share a meal and a roof with a traveler. They had slowed their truck down as they passed him on a dirt road between two farms, way off the highway. He remembered there had been horses in the field to the left, fenced in with barbed wire strung between ancient posts. On the right had been a high hedgerow. In the back of the truck were their daughters, enchantingly beautiful and holding out their eager hands to help him aboard.
A young pilot assigned to a remote airfield, an attractive commander, a routine surveillance mission on a world where animal genes have become mixed with human… what could go wrong?
We don’t use that word in this house. It isn’t polite. And besides, they’ll know this evening when they connect to our brains.
On the world of Kattal, things are falling apart. If you want to survive, swear to the Pact, and don't go out after dark. If you are ever out late, don't listen to the voices!
Something peculiar was going on around the mountain farm he was trying to buy.
He left the security of the Abbey for a life with the streetlings, and as long as none of the crew knew where he had come from, he could stay with them.
Our nearest interstellar neighbors are aware of our existence. A century ago, the inventor of the radio on Elipson Eridani turned on the device and was shocked: He heard our voices. But when they learned what we were like, any return message was prohibited. They were scared. Now, however, it seems someone wants to make contact. That must be stopped at all costs.
Five years after she had run out on him, she was standing on his porch. He thought he would never see her again. Maybe he shouldn’t have. He knew he couldn't let her in... knew he must not...
A probe from Earth brought our culture. It helped them raise themselves out of the problems of an extremely difficult climate. But can culture be transplanted? What would long-term effects would our culture have on an entirely non-human civilization?
When I was only fourteen, I made my first trip to the Gaps and met there an old veteran of the psychic wars...
The Flier arrives at the City of Rookers, in the heights, where the air was breathable.