The Best of All Possible Wars (Man-Kzin Wars Collection)
S. M. Stirling, Greg Bear, Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Uploaders Note: I bought this directly from Baen, they also provide you with a retail EPUB if anyone wants me to upload that.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.... When the catlike Kzin discovered the human region of the galaxy, they thought it was time to scream and leap again. Bred to be conquering warriors, they thought the salad-munching apes of Earth wouldn't even put up a good fight. Actually, they should have been polite to the monkey boys and girls from planet Earth. Humans had developed a pacifist society because they had been good—too good—at war and knew that there's more than one way to skin a cat—even a Kzin. The Warrior Race has encountered its most formidable opponent—and Larry Niven's Known Space is aflame with war.
danger from each other's weapons than from whatever-it-was. Even then three of them hacked it into unrecognizable bits with their machetes. Their fear turned to terror as the twin halves of the egg began to glow and collapse on themselves. "We get out of here," Gruedermann said. "The advokats will take care of the bodies." There were always a pack of them around a human settlement, waiting for garbage to scavenge, impossible to exterminate. "Come on. Money is waiting." "Not more than an
Wunderland. Printed notices were common; during the occupation the kzin overlords had restricted human use of the information net, and since then wartime damage had kept facilities scarce. Technical personnel wanted, he read, for heavy salvage operation. Categories of skills were listed. Heavy work, some danger, high pay. Suuomalisen Contracting, vid. 97-777-4321A Munchen. "Urrrowra," Spots said mournfully. "Such would be suitable—if we were not kzinti. Surely none will hire us. No, suicide
like Father did!" "Don't you ever mention Father like that again," she said coldly, forcing her hand away from the weapon slung at her back. Her hands were mechanical as she unhitched the horse and vaulted into the saddle, an easy feat on Wunderland. His voice followed her as she cantered out into the falling night. And so the Commission leaves us only the home farm, the Teufelberg forest, and the Kraki, of the properties, Tyra Nordbo read, tilting the paper towards the firelight. The
knife. They circled, eight claws against a knife. The kzin was limping as he turned, dark-red blood running down one columnar thigh, naked pink tail held out rigidly to sweep around as a weapon in itself. The man had been wearing armor too; it showed through the rents in his tunic, glittering where the claws had scraped. Bigs was stirring and muttering, no longer a mute limp pile of orange fur. Only the edge of the beam could have clipped him. Enough. The woman in the skinsuit came for Jonah,
swipes he simply lay down in the roadway, groaning more loudly. Something he would never do if he were aware of being watched, of course . . . Jonah felt a moment's guilt. I should cough or something, he thought. Then: No. If he did, he would have to explain why he was hiding behind the rock—and that would make Spots more suspicious than he was already. At least they were still talking when business made it necessary, while Bigs was barely speaking even to his sibling and not at all to the