By Philip E. High
From: The Shaldron Race
To: The Human Race
Your presence in the world has been famous and the cause of your stopover at analyzed through our tools. we've, for that reason, taken the freedom of choosing one in all your social gathering for our first touch, one whom we think is most fitted to know the motivations of either our races and set up for destiny crew contacts.
Peter Collard stared on the message with a chilly feeling of foreboding. He felt pity for the negative devil.
"Who is that this chosen contact?"
"Ah, now," Dyson turned by surprise drawn to the papers at the desk. "Well, i am sorry and all that yet, on the contrary, they need you."
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From: The Shaldron RaceTo: The Human RaceGreetings:Your presence on the earth has been famous and the cause of your stopover at analyzed via our tools. we have now, for this reason, taken the freedom of choosing one among your social gathering for our first touch, one whom we suppose is most fitted to understand the motivations of either our races and set up for destiny team contacts.
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Extra resources for No Truce With Terra
Dyson sighed. " Collard said, "No," flatly. "I was afraid of that, in which case I am afraid I must over-simplify. " "I'm as wise as I was before," said Collard honestly. "I hope, rather crudely, to explain by demonstration. In the universe are countless billions of worlds and solar systems. Most of these are light years or light centuries away in normal space/time but relatively adjacent in the continuum. In short, if we had a way of twisting or warping time/space, these worlds are close. " "Imagine a pea in the center of a piece of typing paper.
At times we may be an irritant and the aliens take a smack at us like a dozing man slapping at a fly. They can afford to doze, chuck a few seeds out of the window, let loose some hawks and nature will do the job for them. Not too far in the future they can step out of the front door into world which is seeded, prepared and ready for them. " Dyson turned and stared moodily out of the window. " One hour and ten minutes later the alarm above the door clanged once and stopped. When they reached the laboratory, slightly out of breath, there was a coating of ice on the interior of the windows and frost crystals nearly an inch deep covered the floor.
A sergeant arrived with the rifle and five spare magazines. "One of the new Brandon's, sir. If you'll just sign here, please. " Collard signed. "Same old bull. " Dyson held out his hand but stared past him. "Damn good luck. " Collard slung the rifle over his shoulder. He looked at Lipscombe but did not speak. He knew that if he did he'd break up and he couldn't afford to break up, not now. " He gulped it down. " He turned abruptly, almost ran at the arc of negation and stepped directly into it.