Down To Earth (colonization, Book Two): Down to Earth by Harry TurtledoveDown To Earth (colonization, Book Two): Down to Earth by Harry Turtledove

Down To Earth (colonization, Book Two): Down to Earth

byHarry Turtledove

Mass Market Paperback | January 2, 2001

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In 1942 Hitler led the world's most savage military machine. Stalin ruled Russia while America was just beginning to show its strength in World War II. Then, in Harry Turtledove's brilliantly imagined Worldwar saga, an alien assault changed everything. Nuclear destruction engulfed major cities, and the invaders claimed half the planet before an uneasy peace could be achieved.

A spectacular tale of tyranny and freedom, destruction and hope, Colonization takes us into the tumultuous 1960s, as the reptilian Race ponders its uneasy future. But now a new, even deadlier war threatens. Though the clamoring tribes of Earth play dangerous games of diplomacy, the ultimate power broker will be the Race itself. For the colonists have one option no human can ignore. With a vast, ancient empire already in place, the Race has the power to annihilate every living being on planet Earth . . .
Harry Turtledove is the award-winning author of the alternate-history works The Man with the Iron Heart, The Guns of the South, and How Few Remain (winner of the Sidewise Award for Best Novel); the War That Came Early novels: Hitler’s War, West and East, The Big Switch, Coup d’Etat, and Two Fronts; the Worldwar saga: In the Balance, Ti...
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Title:Down To Earth (colonization, Book Two): Down to EarthFormat:Mass Market PaperbackDimensions:624 pages, 6.87 × 4.27 × 1.36 inPublished:January 2, 2001Publisher:Random House Publishing GroupLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:0345430239

ISBN - 13:9780345430236

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Customer Reviews of Down To Earth (colonization, Book Two): Down to Earth

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Rated 4 out of 5 by from Fun book I enjoyed this book and it was a great followup to the first book in the series. I have enjoyed the author's take on Aliens attacking during WWII.
Date published: 2016-12-26
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Amazing book This series is amazing
Date published: 2013-08-21

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Chapter 1Atvar, the fleetlord of the Race's conquest fleet, and Reffet, thefleetlord of the colonization fleet, were having a disagreement. Theyhad agreed on very little since Reffet brought the colonization fleet toTosev 3. Atvar was convinced Reffet still had no real understanding ofthe way things worked on this miserable planet. He didn't know whatReffet was convinced of--probably that things on Tosev 3 were in factthe way the Race had fondly imagined them to be before sending out theconquest fleet. "I do not know what you wish me to do, Reffet," he said.They were equals; neither of them was Exalted Fleetlord to the other.They could be, and often were, equally impolite to each other. "Nomatter what you may believe, I cannot work miracles." He swiveled hiseye turrets this way and that to show exasperation.Reffet swiveled his eye turrets, too, and hissed for good measure. "I donot see that it is so difficult. The ship the Big Uglies have launchedis under very low acceleration. You have plenty of time to send areconnaissance probe after it and keep it under close, secretobservation.""And you brought starships across the light-years between Home andhere!" Atvar exclaimed. "You must have had good officers and goodcomputers, for you surely were not up to the job unaided." He pacedacross his office, which had been a suite in Shepheard's Hotel beforethe Race occupied Cairo. It gave him plenty of room to pace; Toseviteswere larger than males and females of the Race, and, naturally, built inproportion to their own size."Leave off your insults," Reffet replied with another hiss, an angryone. His tailstump switched back and forth, back and forth. "I repeat, Ido not see that what I have asked is so very difficult. As I said, thatship, that Clewis and Lark, is under acceleration of no more than ahundredth of the force of gravity.""Lewis and Clark." Atvar took no small relish in correcting hiscolleague and rival over even minute details that shouldn't havemattered to anyone save a Big Ugly. "That it is under tiny accelerationdoes not matter. That it is under continuous acceleration does. If weare to observe it closely and continually, our reconnaissance must beunder acceleration, too. And how, I ask, do you propose to keep thatsecret? A spacecraft with a working engine is by the nature of thingsanything but secret.""By the Emperor!" Reffet burst out. He lowered his eyes to the floorwhen naming his sovereign. So did Atvar, on hearing the title. Fromtraining since hatchlinghood, any member of the Race would have done thesame. Still furious, Reffet went on, "These accursed Tosevites have nobusiness flying in space." He used an emphatic cough to underline hiswords. "They have no business having instruments that let them detectwhat we do when we fly in space, either."Atvar let his mouth fall open in amusement. "Come here, Reffet," hesaid, walking over to the window. "Come here--it is safe enough. Iintend no tricks, and the riots seem to have quieted down again, so noBig Ugly is likely to be aiming a sniper's rifle in this direction atthe moment. I want to show you something."Suspicion manifest in every line of his forward-sloping body, Reffetcame. "What is it?" The suspicion filled his voice, too."There." Atvar pointed west across the great river that flowed pastCairo. "Do you see those three stone pyramids, there in the sand?"Reffet deigned to turn one eye turret in that direction. "I see them.What of it? They look massive, but weathered and primitive.""They are primitive--that is my point," Atvar said. "They are as old asany monuments on this world. They were built as memorials to localrulers eight thousand years ago, more or less: eight thousand of ouryears--half that many for the years of Tosev 3. Eight thousand yearsago, we had already had a planet- wide Empire for more than ninetythousand years. We had already conquered the Rabotevs. We had alreadyconquered the Hallessi. We were beginning to wonder if the starTosev--this world's star--had any interesting planets. Here,civilization was just hatching from its egg.""And it should have taken much longer to hatch, too," Reffet saidirritably. "The Big Uglies should still be building monuments much likethese, as we were not long after we started gathering in cities.""Truth." Atvar's voice was sad. "They should have. In fact, we thoughtthey had. You will have seen this picture of a Tosevite warrior in fullbattle regalia before you set out from Home, of course."He walked over to the hologram projector and called up an image. He hadseen it countless times himself, both before reaching Tosev 3 and since.It showed a hairy Big Ugly in rusty chainmail, armed with sword andspear and iron-faced wooden shield and riding a four-legged beast with along head, an unkempt mane, and a shaggy tail."Yes, of course I have seen that image," Reffet said. "It is one ofthose our probe took sixteen hundred years ago. From it, we assumed theconquest would be easy.""So we did," Atvar agreed. "But the point is, in those interveningsixteen hundred years--eight hundred of this planet's revolutions--theTosevites somehow developed industrial civilization. However much youand I and every other member of the Race may wish they had remainedprimitive, the sorry fact is that they did not. We have to deal withthat fact now.""It was not planned thus." Reffet made that an accusation. The Racemoved by plans, by tiny incremental steps. Anything different came hard.Atvar had been dealing with the Big Uglies for more than forty of hisyears. By painful necessity, he'd begun to adapt to the hectic pace ofTosev 3. "Whether it was planned or not, it is so. You cannot crawl backinto your eggshell and deny it."Reffet wanted to deny it. Again, every line of his body showed as much.So did the big breath of air he sucked deep into his lung. "I think Iwould rather deal with the Tosevites than with you," he snarled. "I knowthey are aliens. With you, I cannot tell whether you have become halfalien or are simply addled like an egg gone bad."That did it. Atvar drew in a deep, angry breath of his own. It broughtthe stinks of Cairo--the stinks of Big Uglies and of their food andtheir wastes, as well as the stinks from the hydrocarbon-burning enginesthey had developed themselves--across the scent receptors in his tongue."Go away," he told Reffet, and added an emphatic cough of his own. "Ihave not the time to deal with your stupidity. Whatever the Big Ugliesin that spacecraft do, they will not do it soon. I am facing a seriousuprising in the subregion of the main continental mass called China. Ihave to deal with that now. I will deal with the American spacecraft asI find the chance, or when it becomes urgent. Meanwhile, good day.""You have turned into a Big Ugly," Reffet said furiously. "All you careabout is the immediate. Anything that requires forethought is beyondyou.""Tosev 3 will do that to a male--unless it kills him first," Atvaranswered. Then he paused. Both his eye turrets swung thoughtfully towardReffet. "Have you any notion how many casualties the Big Uglies'continual revolts have cost us?""No, I do not." Reffet sounded peevish. As far as Atvar was concerned,Reffet sounded peevish far too often. The fleetlord of the colonizationfleet went on, "Had you done a proper job of conquering this planet, Iwould not have to concern myself with such things--and neither wouldyou."I will not bite him, Atvar thought. I will not tear his belly open withmy fingerclaws. But he hadn't known such temptation to pure, cleansingviolence since a ginger-induced mating frenzy in Australia. Fortunately,he had no ginger coursing through him now, nor could he smell anyfemales pheromones. That let him stay his usual rational self. "Dealwith things here as they are, Reffet," he said, "not as you wish theywould be. Our casualties have been heavy, far heavier than anyone couldpossibly have anticipated before we left Home. Like it or not, that is atruth.""Very well. That is a truth." Reffet still sounded peevish. "I do notsee how it is a truth to concern me, however. I am in charge ofcolonists, not soldiers.""All you care about is the immediate," Atvar said, waggling his jaw ashe dropped it to turn his laugh nasty. He took malicious pleasure inbouncing the other fleetlord's words off his snout. "Anything thatrequires forethought is beyond you.""Very well." Now Reffet sounded condescending. "What fresh nonsense isthis?""It is no nonsense at all, but something we would have had to facesooner or later during our occupation of Tosev 3," Atvar answered. "Itmight as well be now. Have you noticed that this is a world consumed bywar and rebellion, that the Big Uglies in the regions we occupycontinually try to overthrow our rule, and that the Tosevites'independent not-empires--the SSSR, the Greater German Reich, the UnitedStates, and also the weaker ones like Nippon and Britain--train largenumbers of their inhabitants as soldiers year after year?""I have noticed it," Reffet admitted, "but you are the fleetlord of theconquest fleet. Soldiers are your responsibility.""Truth," Atvar said. "They are. This is not Home, where, save in aSoldiers' Time of preparation for conquest, we have no soldiers, onlypolice. Here, we will need soldiers continuously, for hundreds of yearsto come. Where shall we get them, if we do not begin the training ofmales, and possibly females as well, from among your preciouscolonists?""What?" Reffet cried. "This is madness! It is nothing but madness! Mycolonists are colonists. How can they become fighters?""The males I command managed," Atvar said. "I am certain I can recruittrainers from among them. Think, Reffet." He didn't bother beingsardonic, not any more; the more he thought on this, the more importantit looked. "How long can the Race endure here on Tosev 3 withoutsoldiers to defend us?"Reffet did think. Reluctantly, Atvar gave him credit for it. After apause, the fleetlord of the colonization fleet said, "It could be thatyou are correct. I shall not commit myself further than that withoutanalysis from my experts. If you would also convene a panel of yourexperts to examine the issue, I should be grateful."With any other member of the Race on or near Tosev 3, Ref- fet couldhave given an order and heard It shall be done as reply. Having to makea polite request of Atvar surely grated on him. Atvar knew having tomake a request of Reffet grated on him. Here, the request was nothing ifnot reasonable. "I will do that, and soon," Atvar promised. "It issomething we need to examine, as I said.""So it is." Like Atvar's, Reffet's temper seemed to be cooling. He said,"If it proves we must do this thing, it will make us different from themembers of the Race back on Home and inhabiting Rabotev 2 and Halless1.""Males of the conquest fleet are already different from all othermembers of the Race," Atvar replied. "My hope is that, over the courseof hundreds of years, we will gradually incorporate all the Big Ugliesinto the Empire and assimilate them to our way of doing things. If wesucceed there, the differences between those of the Race here on Tosev 3and those living on the other worlds of the Empire will graduallydisappear.""By the Emperor, may it be so," Reffet said. He and Atvar cast downtheir eyes again. Then, half talking to himself, Reffet went on, "Butwhat if it is not so?""That is my nightmare," Atvar told him. "That has been my nightmaresince we first discovered the Big Uglies' true nature. They changefaster than we do. They grow faster than we do. They are still behindus, but not by so much as they were when we came to Tosev 3. If they, orsome of them, remain hostile, if they look like they are passing us . .." His voice trailed away."Yes?" Reffet prompted. "What then?""We may have to destroy this world, and our own colony on it," Atvaranswered unhappily. "We may have to destroy ourselves, to save theRace."Under an acceleration of .01g, Lieutenant Colonel Glen Johnson had towear a seat belt to stay in his chair. His effective weight was justover a pound and a half--not enough for muscles used to Earth's robustgravity to notice. Any fidgeting at all would have sent him bouncingaround the Lewis and Clark's control room. Bouncing around in a roomfull of instruments wasn't recommended.He turned to Colonel Walter Stone, the American spaceship's chief pilot."This is the best seat in the house," he said."You'd best believe it, Johnson," Stone answered. The two of them mighthave been cousins: they were both lean, athletic men in their earlymiddle years; both crew cut; both, by coincidence, from Ohio. Johnsonhad started in the Marines, Stone in the Army Air Corps. Each lookeddown his nose at the other because of that.