Written by Tom W. Harris s212u
Tom W. Harris 2z1f5n
It was even more unsettling when the Ravian was a high official, as at present. Their minds were even more coldly intellectual, dry and logical than the usual Ravian tourist's. And they could make a lot of trouble. Chester's job as tour-chief here at Knoxville—more specifically, Port Knoxville, where the ships came in—was to keep the tourists happy.. 2q2w3u
Tom W. Harris 2z1f5n
For the first time in his life he felt desperate. A cool head and a habit of never being wrong had got him where he was—founder and top banana of Full-Projection, sole owner of three TV networks using the revolutionary 3-D devices perfected by Otto Kahler and patented by Archy. In the present emergency, he tried to keep his head still cool and cont..
Tom W. Harris 2z1f5n
Careful to keep trees and bushes between himself and the cottage, the boy legged it across the fields toward the glass rocket poised in Johnson's pasture, glittering and slim like a dark, slender dancer. To Pete it was all the promise in the world distilled into a pointed black glass bottle. But to the women in the cottage....He glanced back. Appar..
Tom W. Harris 2z1f5n
DiCredico squeezed a plastic bottle, squirting water into his face. Drops spattered and drifted off slowly through the air. Bailey blinked and stared. He was aboard the Ranger. Safe. Then panic came gibbering back at him as his body told him unmistakably he was falling."You're not!" snapped DiCredico. "No gravity, ? Spin ship!" he ordered o..