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The visitor, making his way unobserved through the crowded main laboratory of The Hill, stepped up to within six feet of the back of a big Norwegian seated at an electrono-optical bench. Drawing an automatic pistol, he shot the apparently unsuspecting scientist seven times, as fast as he could pull the trigger; twice through the brain, five times, closely spaced, through the spine.
“Ah, Gharlane of Eddore, I have been expecting you to look me up. Sit down.” Blonde, blue-eyed Dr. Nels Bergenholm, completely undisturbed by the passage of the stream of bullets through his head and body, turned and waved one huge hand at a stool beside his own.
“But those were not ordinary projectiles!” the visitor protested. Neither person—or rather, entity—was in the least surprised that no one else had paid any attention to what had happened, but it was clear that the one was taken aback by the failure of his murderous attack. “They should have volatilized that form of flesh—should at least have blown you back to Arisia, where you belong.”
A Story of Resilience, Friendship, and Hope
100% of profits will benefit the victims of the Easter Sunday Attacks who are still in need of assistance.
Follow in the footsteps of Vibhu, a little church mouse, as he remembers a difficult time in his life.
Vibhu and his friends are caught in the Easter Sunday bomb attack in Sri Lanka as they observe the Mass from their mouse hole. Amid the chaos, Vibhu realizes that his best friend, Seha, is missing. He makes his way through the debris and faces many obstacles in his search for his friend. The story recalls the events of that tragic day and the aftermath of the attacks through the eyes of these little mice. We follow Vibhu as he learns to deal with tragedy, loss, and grief. We see how some step forward to assist their fellow-creatures while others hide away in fear.
I remember the absolute shock we all experienced as the news reports rolled in that day. My main aim in writing this book is to ensure that those who lost their lives will never be forgotten. I also hope that this story will give both children and adults who read it a sense of catharsis and strengthen their faith in humanity and God.
I know the story has strong Christian overtones, but I feel it can be read by anyone of any ethnicity or religion. The days following the bombings were dark and desperate, and I hope we never return to such a juncture as a nation ever again.
“The linguistic style is simple yet expressive of the fear and sadness that gripped everyone
Once upon a time there was a village shop. The name over the window was “Ginger and Pickles.”
It was a little small shop just the right size for Dolls—Lucinda and Jane Doll-cook always bought their groceries at Ginger and Pickles.
The counter inside was a convenient height for rabbits. Ginger and Pickles sold red spotty pocket-handkerchiefs at a penny three farthings.
They also sold sugar, and snuff and galoshes.
In fact, although it was such a small shop it sold nearly everything—except a few things that you want in a hurry—like bootlaces, hair-pins and mutton chops.
Ginger and Pickles were the people who kept the shop. Ginger was a yellow tom-cat, and Pickles was a terrier.
The rabbits were always a little bit afraid of Pickles.
It was, as usual, a decision on which the question of peace or atomic war depended. The Council of the Western Defense Alliance, as usual, had made the decision. And, as usual, the WDA Coordinator had to tell the Com Ambassador that the Coms had won again. The WDA would not risk atomic war over a thirty-mile shift of a national border in southeast Asia.
“Perhaps,” said the Com Ambassador politely, “it will be easier for you personally if I admit that our Intelligence Service has reported the decision of your Council.” He paused, and added, “in detail.”
The Coordinator asked wearily, “How much detail?”
“First,” said the Ambassador, “you are to insist that no decision has been reached. You are to play for time. If I do not agree, you are to offer to compromise. If I do not agree, you are to accept the settlement we suggested. But you are to ask urgently for time in which to remove the citizens we might feel ought to be shot. This is not an absolute condition, but you are to use every possible means to persuade me to grant it.”