The Stars, My Brothers

He was afraid -- not of the present or the future, but of the past. He was afraid of the thing tagged Reed Kieran, that stiff blind voiceless thing wheeling its slow orbit around the Moon, companion to dead worlds and silent space. . . .Hamilton was a thoughtful SF writer, and you can surely see that here: this is the tale of a man dead in space for centuries -- and revived by folks who approach an alien world a lot the way out nuttier environmentalists approach the defense of trees. There ...