The Continent Makers and Other Tales of the Viagens by Camp L. Sprague de

Author:Camp, L. Sprague de [Camp, L. Sprague de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, General, Fantasy, Anthologies
Goodreads: 23202276
Publisher: Baen
Published: 1953-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

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At the appointed hour, Borel, having presented his pass at the gate of the citadel, was taken in tow by a uniformed guide. Inside Mishé’s Kremlin stood a lot of huge plain stone buildings wherein the Guardians led their antlike existence. Borel walked past playgrounds and exercise grounds, and identified other buildings as apartment houses, armories, office buildings, and an auditorium. It was just as well to memorize such details in case a slip-up should require a hasty retreat. Borel had once spent six months as a guest of the French Republic in consequence of failing to observe this precaution. He passed hundreds of gorgeously arrayed garma of both sexes. Some looked at him sharply, but none offered interference.

For the quarters of one sworn to poverty, the treasurer’s apartment was certainly sumptuous. Kubanan cordially introduced Borel to a young female Mikardandu who quite took his breath away. If one didn’t mind green hair, feathery antennae, and a somewhat flat-featured Oriental look, she was easily the most beautiful thing he’d seen since Earth, especially since the Mikardandu evening dress began at the midriff.

“Sir Felix, my confidential secretary, the Lady Zerdai.” Kubanan lowered his voice in mock confidence. “I think she’s my own daughter, though naturally one can never know for sure.”

“Then family feeling does exist among the Guardians?” said Borel.

“Yes, I fear me it does. A shameful weakness, but natheless a most pleasant one. Heigh-ho, at times, I envy the commoners. Why, Zerdai herself has somehow bribed the women in charge of the incubator to show her which is her own authentic egg.”

Zerdai sparkled at them. “I was down there but today and the maids tell me it’s due to hatch in another fifteen days!”

“Ahem,” said Borel. “Would it be good manners to ask who’s papa? Excuse me if I pull a boner occasionally; I’m not entirely oriented yet.”

Kubanan said: “No offense, sir. He was Sir Sardu, the predecessor of Sir Shurgez, was he not, Zerdai?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “But our petty affairs must seem dull to a galaxy traveler like you, Sir Felix. Tell us of Earth! I’ve long dreamed of going thither; I can fancy nought more glamorous than seeing the New York Stock Exchange, or the Moscow Art Theater, or the Shanghai night clubs with my own eyes. It must be wonderful to ride in a power vehicle! To talk to somebody miles distant! And all those marvelous inventions and factories . . .”

Kubanan said dryly: “I sometimes think Lady Zerdai shows an unbecoming lack of pride in her Order, young though she be. Now about this lottery: will you see to having the certificates printed?”

“Certainly,” said Borel. “So you do have a printing press here?”

“Yes; from the Earthmen we got it. We’d have preferred a few Earthly weapons to smite our enemies; but no, all they’ll let us have is this device, which bodes ill for our social order. Should the commoners learn reading, who knows what mad ideas this ill-starred machine may spread among them?”

Borel turned on the charm, thankful that supper consisted of some of the more palatable Krishnan dishes.

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