Statesman by Piers Anthony

Author:Piers Anthony [Anthony, Piers]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9780738807010
Publisher: Xlibris Corporation
Published: 2006-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14 EARTH

Earth was amazing. The planet was blue, and half covered with clouds, and so pretty that it brought tears to my eyes. All that atmosphere!

We docked at Luna, which had been colonized by the Ceylonese and was now known politically as Serendib. It was much like any other planet, airless and cratered, with its city-domes brought up to standard gee by gravity lenses. Then we took a shuttle to Earth proper, and landed at the capital of Delhi.

We stepped out into the unfettered ambient air of the planet and gazed about us in wonder. We breathed. It was hard to get used to the notion of breathing outside a ship or bubble or dome; I kept thinking that my breath would catch, because there was nothing to contain the air. I knew that Spirit and Forta were experiencing similar reactions. It just didn’t seem natural to be on the surface without cover.

And there was the sun. It bore down at exactly Earth-norm intensity-without a concentrating lens. I found myself peering into the sky, trying to spot the outlines of the lens that my background believed had to be there.

We rode in an open car toward the central city, and passed a lake. We almost gaped. Here was this enormous open body of water, just lying there! A fortune in liquid, being used for decorative purpose, one of myriads on the surface of this marvelous planet.

The city was beautiful, I’m sure, with the architecture typical of its culture. But I have virtually no memory of it, only of the wonder of air and sun and open water. I was in a daze as we reached our suite. Perhaps I was overdue for dialysis, but I think it more likely that I was

simply overwhelmed by the reality of the dream planet that was Earth. The rootstock of humanity had come from here, and perhaps that contributed to the awe of it. I had never been here before, but in a sense I was coming home.

I had my dialysis, and rested, and a new woman joined me. She was Hispanic, and young, and beautiful. At first her signals were uncertain, and I realized that this was because neither Forta nor Spirit had met her, and knew too little of her to make for a comprehensive emulation. But I knew her, and she firmed for me as I reacted. “Dorian Gray,” I said.

That was the name I had given the woman who had shared my captivity during my memory-washing. She had been an agent, intended to subvert me, so had not given me her name. Now she was dead, and all I had to remember her was her son, Robertico, whom I had promised to take care of. I had done so; he was now about fifteen years old, and remained on Jupiter. My daughter Hopie had been his baby-sitter and effective big sister, though there was no blood relation between them.

My affair with Dorian Gray had been illicit. I have known a number of women, but always legitimately, with that exception.

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