Jim White thought he might as well write a science fiction book. He did it, no trouble. It was published. The critics panned it. They said they’d never read anything so stupidly unscientific. If you’re going to write science fiction it still has to be based on scientific reality, they said.
Jim White laughed behind the palm of his hand. He was an undercover alien. He knew earthlings wouldn’t catch up with his science for another two and a half thousand years.