Big Planet by Jack Vance

Author:Jack Vance [Vance, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Tags: SF
ISBN: 9781619470040
Publisher: Spatterlight Press
Published: 1957-01-15T21:16:02+00:00

But the carriage continued around the building, presently passed another marquee. This was draped in rich saffron satin, fringed with royal red tassels. A sign read “Grand Savoyard.”

Next they passed a portico of somewhat classical dignity: columns, Ionic capitals and entablature. Chiselled letters read “Ritz-Carlton,” and again Cloyville looked wistfully over his shoulder as the carriage swept by. “We’ll probably end up on a flop-house on the skid-road.”

They passed a vaguely Oriental entrance: carved dark wood, a slab of the same wood supporting tall green urns. The sign read, “The Traveller’s Inn.”

The carriage continued another hundred feet and stopped under an awning of green, red and white striped canvas. A bold black and white sign announced “The Hunt Club.”

A doorman stepped forward, helped them to the pavement, then ran ahead, opened the door.

The party of travellers passed through a short corridor pasted with green baize, decorated with black and white landscapes, entered a large central lobby.

Directly opposite, across the lobby, a corridor led outside. Through the door shone the many-colored radiance of stained-glass in the sunlight.

Glystra looked around the walls. At intervals other corridors led off like spokes from a hub, all evidently leading to the outside.

Glystra stopped short. Grinning he turned to Pianza. “The Metropole, the Grand Savoyard, the Ritz-Carlton, the Traveller’s Inn, the Hunt Club—they’re all the same.”

Clodleberg made an urgent motion. “Quiet. This is very real to the Kirsters. You will offend them.”

“But—”

Clodleberg said hurriedly, “I should have informed you; the entrance you chose places you on the social scale. The accommodations are identical, but it is considered smarter and more fashionable to enter through the Metropole.”

Glystra nodded. “I understand completely. We’ll be careful.”

The doorman led them across the lobby to a circular desk with a polished wood counter. Rods wound with spirals of colored cloth rising from the edge of the counter supported a parasol-shaped top. A central pier continued up three feet, then extended in a ten foot pole of pitted black wood. Around the pole, veering in and out, flew ten thousand fireflies—swooping, circling, settling on the pitted wood of the pole, flying out again in a swift current, ten, twenty, fifty feet from the pole.

The doorman took them to that section of the desk marked off by the Hunt Club colors. Glystra turned around, counted heads, like the father of a troublesome family. Cloyville, ruddy and flushed, was talking to a tired Pianza; Corbus and Bishop stood with Wailie and Motta, the girls excited, vastly impressed; Nancy stood pale and rather tense by his right elbow, Clodleberg at his left. Nine in all.

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