At one point during the tour, one of the Lithuwaan guides came over to talk privately with Bred, who had gone to the back of the bus to sit by himself for awhile. An Umpire—Bred couldn’t tell whether it was his own or not—came along to translate. “I’m afraid,” the alien said, “that I have what might be rather bad news for you.”
“What is it?”
“It concerns the stretch of coastline along which the Eclipse Roses grow. Word has just been received that a battle has begun there between our forces and those of the Grosstem.”
“That is too bad,” Bred said, but his tone was noncommittal. The Lithuwa hadn’t come back here just to tell him that. Bred waited patiently to find out what else was on the alien’s mind.
“There is, of course, no way of knowing how long the battle may last. Sometimes they a
