A gem of short story in the form of correspondence between the leaders of two opposing Political Blocs whose escalation of hostilities is rapidly suppressed from a surprise third party.
Any war is made up of a horde of personal tragedies--but the greater picture is the tragedy of the death of a way of life. For a way of life--good, bad, or indifferent--exists because it is dearly loved....
When people talk about getting away from it all, they are usually thinking about our great open spaces out west. But to science fiction writers, that would be practically in the heart of Times Square. When a man of the future wants solitude he picks a slab of rock floating in space four light years east of Andromeda. Here is a gentle little story about a man who sought the solitude of such a location. And who did he take along for company? Charles the Robot.
A scientist, an unemployed man and a cat lady read an advertisement about a secret society from a magazine. They all answer it for various, but different, reasons and get somewhat different return mailings. It turns out that there really IS a real ancient secret society with scientific secrets, and it is drafting new researchers.
Because this is a masculine world, the author of this fairytale is usually identified as the wife of Poul Anderson. But a few more incisive cameos of fantasy such as this, and Mr. Anderson may come to be identified as Karen's husband.