Super Trick or Treat System

"I will appeal directly to the council."

Kyle Gris shrugged. "Okay. You have my support."

"But do you believe that such an effort is hopeless?"

"You know those merchants with red tape. If you want to defeat Ruthwen, you have to go fast. He may be reaching Stanton, Reese and Margate in a straight line now. This is what he has been waiting for!"

"There is News Corporation; public opinion will support us-"

"Of course, you didn't mean that." Kyle Garris suddenly became out of reach.

Ash rushed to wash under the heavy brown, which covered his usual features. Threatening to break the silence here is almost blasphemous. He wiped the fabric of his thighs with both hands, as if wiping off the dirt from his palms.

"No," he replied heavily, his voice dull. "I don't think I will. I will contact Hoff, hoping for the best."

"At the same time," Kyle Garris said briskly, "We will do everything we can to speed up the development of the program. I suggest you fly to New York within an hour-"

"Me? Why?" Ash asked suspiciously.

"Because I can't help but act directly on the order, which will make us immediately make a mistake. You see Hoff and talk to him personally, tell him straightforwardly. If he wants to fight back, he must have all the facts. From Stanton to Parliament You know every argument we can use and all the proofs around us, and you have enough authority to make it valuable."

"If I can do all of this, I will." Ash is alert and eager. The colonel felt relaxed when he saw his expression change.

But when Kyle Garris hurried down the side corridor, he stood looking at Ash, and then walked slowly to his office. After entering the room, he stared at the wall unhappily for a long time, only seeing the pictures produced by his thoughts. Then he pressed a button and read a small visa screen flashing on the desk. Pressing another button, he picked up a microphone in one hand to receive a command that might delay the malfunction for a period of time. Too valuable, a person is not worth losing, his emotions will make him fall into disaster for this.

"Bidwell-rescheduled the team's time. They have to go to the hypnosis laboratory within 10 minutes, not to the reserve team."

Release Mike and he stares at the wall again. No one dares to interrupt the hypnotic training period, which will last three hours. It is impossible to meet the trainees before leaving New York. In that way, his temptation is eliminated-he will not speak at the wrong time.

Kyle Garris' mouth turned sour. He is not proud of what he has done. And he is very certain that he will win, and his fear is well-founded. All this is back to the old basic principle of service: finally proved the rationality of the means. They must use all methods and personnel under their control to ensure that Topaz is still the property of the West, even if the strange planet is now far beyond the sky covering the East-West Alliance. Time is too fast. They are forced to play the cards they hold, even if the cards may be low. Kesh hopes that Ashe will come back, but not until a decision is made in one way or another. Until it's done.

Ruined! Kyle Gris blinked against the wall. Maybe they are done too. Until the transport ship landed on the person who appeared on the direction belt, no one knew that the ship was symbolized by the jewel-like golden-brown disc, which was given the code name of topaz.

2

There are even more than a dozen air guardians, and each guardian travels along its own orbit, just within the atmosphere of the planet. In the four-world system of the yellow planet, they shine like a great copper-gold gem. Six months ago, the globe had been launched to form a protective net around, and the highest level of skills had been put into production. Just as contact mines planted in ports can allow ships that do not know secret passages to land, the world should also be closed to any spacecraft that is not equipped with a signal to prevent missile defense.

This is the theory of the new foreign settlers. They should be protected. They have been tested as much as possible, but have not yet been finally proven. At night, the small bright globe rotates undisturbed on the two-month-high sky, and during the day, the installation screen sends a reassuring signal.

Then, the thirteenth object blinked and started a circling, closed descending spiral. A sphere resembling a guardian ball is one hundred times its size, and its orbit is purposefully controlled by the pilot's eyes and his instruments.

Four men were strapped to the padded harness seats in the control cabin of the Allied Coalition Forces. The two dangled where their fingers might touch the buttons and joysticks. The others were just passengers, and their work was waiting for them to step off the plane. time. Alien soil of topaz. The planet hangs on the visa screen, and the amber gold is magnificent, getting bigger and closer, so that they can pick out the characteristics of the oceans, continents, and mountains, which have been studied on the tape. Until they are familiar, but now they are also very strange

One of the guard rooms sounded an alarm and oscillated on a set path, and its subtle internal mechanism responded to the awakening spark, making it spin faster when performing destruction tasks. The relay clicked, but the correct heading could not be set within the smallest millimeter range. On the remote instrument, it checked the new heading of the globe and found no errors.

The screen of the ship hovering towards Topaz recorded a path that brought it into violent contact with the earth. When the alarm went off, they were still hundreds of miles apart. The pilot's hand reached for the control library. Under the almost unbearable pressure of their descendants, he could do nothing. His curved fingers receded weakly from the buttons and joystick; as the beating of the signal increased, his mouth turned into a frustratingly distorted grimace.

A passenger slammed his head on the soft cushion and spoke with his companion to form words. The other was staring at the screen, his thick lips clinging to his teeth growling angrily.

"They are here..."

Ruthven did not notice the obvious phenomenon his countrymen said. His anger is a red, pulsating thing in his heart, fed by his own helplessness. Stay close to his target, hold it tightly as the target of a lifeless but cunning old weapon, swallowing him like a deadly acid. His big bet will be extinguished in the fire, the sky is illuminated, and nothing is left. On the armrest of his sling seat, his nails were deeply scratched.

The four people in the cab can only sit down and watch, waiting to meet to block them. The anger is futile. His companion in the passenger seat closed his eyes, his lips moved silently, expressing his scattered thoughts. The pilot and his assistant distracted their attention on the screen, displaying shocking messages and controls that they could not use effectively, and frantically looking for a way out at the last moments.

Below those people under the boat are those who know the ending unconsciously, they are kept in a compartment. In a cushioned cage, a piercing head stopped on his forehead, and his moving eyes blinked. Not only was he aware of the familiar environment, but also the tension and fear caused by the level of human thought and emotion. A pointed nose lifted up, growling deep in his throat, covered with thick light gray hair.

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