“So, you’re Mr. Kincade?” asked Maxwell.

“I am, but you can call me Erik,” said a skinny wheelchair-bound man.

Shale was an alien, a cephaloid. I have been working with him for the last five years as an anthropologist.

Ian surveyed the alien planet and breathed deep. His nostrils flared at the acrid smell of burning minerals and plant life. The ground beneath him smoldered.

Reg was at her station when the alarm sounded. The alarm -- the only one that would ever matter.