Adventure stories; Science fiction; Sex role -- Fiction
Ballantyne reflected on what he knew of Alpha Centauri. Even the
fantastically fast new exploratory ships took ten years to cross the
interstellar gulf to its wild planets, and there had only been three
expeditions so far. The third had brought back a group of curious
natives who were to report to their queen what the strangers' homeland
was like.
He imagined that the spacemen had had quite a time, with that score of
turbulent barbarians crammed into a narrow hull though of course they'd
passed almost the whole voyage in suspended animation. The visitors
had spent about a year now on Earth and Luna, staring, asking endless
questions, wondering what their hosts did with themselves now that the
U. N. had brought the nations together and ended war. There hadn't
been much trouble. Occasionally one of them would get mad and break
somebody's jaw, and then there'd been the one who was invited to speak
at a women's club.... He chuckled to himself.
"Are these Yovians humans like you?" asked Dyann.
"Uh-huh," he nodded. "The moons were colonized from Earth about a
hundred and twenty-five years ago. They declared their independence
about sixty years past, and nobody thought it was worth the trouble to
fight about it. Though maybe we should have."
"Vy that?"
"Oh well, the colonists were misfits originally, remnants of the
old Eurasian militarisms. They did do heroic work in settling and
developing the Jovian System, but they live under a dictatorship
and make no bones about despising Earth and considering themselves
the destined rulers of all the planets. Last year they grabbed the
Saturnian colonies on the thinnest of pretexts, and Earth was too
chicken-livered to do more than give them a reproachful look. Not that
the U. N. has much of a navy these days, compared to theirs."
Dyann shrugged and went on unpacking. She hung an extra sword on the
wall, unshipped her armor and put it up, and slipped into a loose
fur-trimmed robe. Urushkidan slithered to the floor and opened his
own trunk, pulling out a score of fat books which he placed on the
shelf over his bunk and expropriated the little table for his papers,
pencils, and humidor.
"You know--ah--Dr. Urushkidan--" said Ballantyne uneasily, "I wish you
weren't going to Jupiter."
"And why not?" asked the Martian belligerently.
"Well, doesn't your reformulation of general relativity indicate a way
to build a ship which can go faster than light?"
"Among oter tings, yes." Urushkidan blew a malodorous cloud of smoke.
"Well, I don't think the Jovians are interested in science for its own
sake. I think they want to get you and your knowledge so they can build
such ships themselves which would be the last thing they need to take
over the Solar System."
"A Martian," said Urushkidan condescendingly, "is not concerned wit te
squabblings of te lower animals. Noting personal, of course."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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