There’s no urgency, a third voice urged, pleading compromise. No duty calls. Hold onto the illusion a little… — David Brin

“You think I'm kidding?” the pilot asked.

“No, we think you're crazy.”

Of course, sometimes a species’ invention only benefited itself. Goats developed an ability to eat almost anything, right down to the roots. Goats proliferated. Deserts spread behind them.

Then another creature appeared, one whose originality was unprecedented. Its numbers grew. And in its wake some other types did flourish. The common cat and dog. The rat. Starlings and pigeons. And the cockroach. Meanwhile, opportunity grew sparse for those less able to share the vast new riches—huge expanses of plowed fields and mowed lawns, streets and parking lots...

The coming of the grasses had left its mark indelibly on the history of the world.

So would the Age of Asphalt and Concrete.

What kind of man takes a live bomb across the seas in order to blow up other people? People who have mothers and lovers and children, just like him?

Probably either a professional or a patriot, Alex thought. Or, worse, both.