The Dangers of Science Fiction

Impossible.

There was simply no way. Hartsch put down the ereader and sat amazed. How could they possibly know?! There had been no contact between the QueeTee and Humanity before a year ago. In fact, Humanity had had NO contact priority to the QueeTee reaching out.

The QueeTee had been passing through the system called Gamma Cephei by the Humans when they heard the radio traffic. The QueeTee had been investigating the strange system with its semi habitable world around Gamma Cephei B. When they heard another voice, another species, they retasked their mission from a quick survey of an empty world to First Contact. New species of intelligent life were rare and precious. Whatever race brought them into the Galactic Commonwealth peacefully reaped rewards of both helping them develop and the enormous prestige. The QueeTee lept with both hairy feet at once.

First Contact had gone exceedingly well. Humanity seemed, despite its oddities, to be well disposed to the QueeTee. They were far from perfect, but what species was? At least they were not Geigerians. He shuddered at the thought of the species that had attempted first contact there. Rydleyarians almost went extinct before the quarantine was successfully slapped in place.

No, Humanity, for its warts and all, was a prize on so many levels. They had been worried the QueeTee were out to enslave them, but that was not how the Galaxy worked: who needed slaves when you had dumb bots for far cheaper? No, Humanity's insight and friendship was worth more than mere material things.

The most amusing of the idea the QueeTee were here for taking over the world, especially for its /water!/ There was far, far more water in the asteroid belt or the moons of the gas giants. Why pick a fight with even a slightly annoying race if you can just wave hi and collect the water in space for cheaper?! Sometimes the ideas thrown around were just plain silly. Water was plentiful in space.

The weird ideas Humans had about aliens had led Hartsch to look into the genre called 'science fiction.' Most stories were silly. Some were insightful. Many needed to rethink whether or not ought to associated with 'science' at all. SQUIRK!

However, in reading, and especially digging through the 'classics' of the genre, Hartsch had found one author that was prescient. However, the roles of the aliens and humans were somewhat reversed. The author described the QueeTee's world perfectly. The author described the QueeTee perfectly. However, the story would deeply offend so many QueeTee.

Perhaps, given its obscurity, Humanity and the QueeTee could develop a deep bond without being endangered by this silly story. Perhaps.

Pondering, Hartsch sat in the library in the embassy in massively oversized Human furniture and looked at the pipe on the table with disgust.

What could be done about this ancient author 'Piper' and his Little Fuzzies?