Read Online Castle for Rent by John Dechancie - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Dechancie
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itâ"
âWhat's space?"
Gene took a long drink from his beer stein. âForget it."
âAnything you say, pal,â Snowclaw said amiably.
M. DuQuesne said, âSnowclaw, does your world have a warm season and a cold season?"
âSure does."
âIs the sun a little lower in the sky in the cold season?"
âIt's a lot lower."
âThen, when the sun is at its lowest point during the cold season, and the days are very short, that's the winter solstice. When it's at its highest point in the sky during the warm season, and the days are long, that's the summer solstice. The equinoxes are in between, in spring and autumn, when night and day are about equally long."
âOh. Well, sure, everybody knows that! Thanks."
Everyone looked at Gene. He shrugged. âOkay, so I'm not Isaac Asimov."
A man called Thaxton said, âWho's for tennis today?"
Another, older man who called himself Cleve Dalton said, âThax old boy, you ask that every damn day, and I can't recall that anyone's ever taken you up on it. Where the devil are the courts, anyway?"
âWell, they're through an aspect just a little down the hall to the right. I suspect they're not really tennis courts per se. I mean, there are nets and such, but they actually seem to beâ"
There came shouts from out in the hallway, and the sound of running feet. A man, one of the servants, came running through the main entrance looking frightened to death. He ran past the table and shouted, âThey're coming! Run for your lives!â He sprinted to the kitchen entrance, threw the door open, and dashed through.
Everyone froze for a moment. Then Gene said, âIt's gotta be the Bluefaces."
As if to corroborate his remark, three Bluefaces stormed through the main entrance with drawn swords.
âStay where you are!â the middle one commanded. âYou are now under authority of His Imperial Domination, High Proconsul of Greater Borjakshann, and you are subject to his every whim, wish, and caprice!"
âHey, Blueface!"
Somewhat nonplussed, the creature raked an eye up and down the table until it found the speaker.
âWho dares defy authority of Proconsul?"
Snowclaw rose to his full height. âMe, that's who,â he said.
The creature looked a trifle uncertain. âAny resistance will be dealt with harshly!"
âYeah? What are you gonna do, bleed on me?"
The Blueface grinned with a satisfied malevolence. âFor that bit of insolence, you will be put to death immediately!"
With a blood-congealing howl, Snowclaw sprang into a blur of motion. In one clean jump from a standstill, he was up on the table and running, huge clawed feet picking their way through the soup tureens and serving plates of prime rib, executing a neat end run around the carved ice centerpiece. At some point he became airborne, taloned toes leading, the claws of his hands swiping at the air, mouth wide and bristling with wickedly sharp teeth, gleaming incisors almost big enough to be tusks. A fire of diabolical ferocity burned in his alien yellow eyes.
The Blueface barely had time to point its sword in the proper direction. To no avail. The splayed foot of Snowclaw's long right leg, which had extended slightly, hit the invader squarely in the breastplate. The sword went flying, and the creature went down, Snowclaw crashing on top of it.
Gene had delayed only an instant. He was up and charging by the time Snowclaw had made his leap.
âEverybody out through the kitchen!â he yelled.
Four more blue-skinned soldiers stormed through the door, and a few of the other males and one woman jumped up and ran to meet them, swords drawn.
Sheila just sat there, a morsel of beef Stroganoff still poised on the end of her fork, her mouth hanging open.
Ohmygawd. What the hell is happening now?
Someone grabbed her arm. It was Linda Barclay.
âSheila! Run!"
Sheila got up and joined the clot of people that had jammed up at the kitchen door.
âWhat's space?"
Gene took a long drink from his beer stein. âForget it."
âAnything you say, pal,â Snowclaw said amiably.
M. DuQuesne said, âSnowclaw, does your world have a warm season and a cold season?"
âSure does."
âIs the sun a little lower in the sky in the cold season?"
âIt's a lot lower."
âThen, when the sun is at its lowest point during the cold season, and the days are very short, that's the winter solstice. When it's at its highest point in the sky during the warm season, and the days are long, that's the summer solstice. The equinoxes are in between, in spring and autumn, when night and day are about equally long."
âOh. Well, sure, everybody knows that! Thanks."
Everyone looked at Gene. He shrugged. âOkay, so I'm not Isaac Asimov."
A man called Thaxton said, âWho's for tennis today?"
Another, older man who called himself Cleve Dalton said, âThax old boy, you ask that every damn day, and I can't recall that anyone's ever taken you up on it. Where the devil are the courts, anyway?"
âWell, they're through an aspect just a little down the hall to the right. I suspect they're not really tennis courts per se. I mean, there are nets and such, but they actually seem to beâ"
There came shouts from out in the hallway, and the sound of running feet. A man, one of the servants, came running through the main entrance looking frightened to death. He ran past the table and shouted, âThey're coming! Run for your lives!â He sprinted to the kitchen entrance, threw the door open, and dashed through.
Everyone froze for a moment. Then Gene said, âIt's gotta be the Bluefaces."
As if to corroborate his remark, three Bluefaces stormed through the main entrance with drawn swords.
âStay where you are!â the middle one commanded. âYou are now under authority of His Imperial Domination, High Proconsul of Greater Borjakshann, and you are subject to his every whim, wish, and caprice!"
âHey, Blueface!"
Somewhat nonplussed, the creature raked an eye up and down the table until it found the speaker.
âWho dares defy authority of Proconsul?"
Snowclaw rose to his full height. âMe, that's who,â he said.
The creature looked a trifle uncertain. âAny resistance will be dealt with harshly!"
âYeah? What are you gonna do, bleed on me?"
The Blueface grinned with a satisfied malevolence. âFor that bit of insolence, you will be put to death immediately!"
With a blood-congealing howl, Snowclaw sprang into a blur of motion. In one clean jump from a standstill, he was up on the table and running, huge clawed feet picking their way through the soup tureens and serving plates of prime rib, executing a neat end run around the carved ice centerpiece. At some point he became airborne, taloned toes leading, the claws of his hands swiping at the air, mouth wide and bristling with wickedly sharp teeth, gleaming incisors almost big enough to be tusks. A fire of diabolical ferocity burned in his alien yellow eyes.
The Blueface barely had time to point its sword in the proper direction. To no avail. The splayed foot of Snowclaw's long right leg, which had extended slightly, hit the invader squarely in the breastplate. The sword went flying, and the creature went down, Snowclaw crashing on top of it.
Gene had delayed only an instant. He was up and charging by the time Snowclaw had made his leap.
âEverybody out through the kitchen!â he yelled.
Four more blue-skinned soldiers stormed through the door, and a few of the other males and one woman jumped up and ran to meet them, swords drawn.
Sheila just sat there, a morsel of beef Stroganoff still poised on the end of her fork, her mouth hanging open.
Ohmygawd. What the hell is happening now?
Someone grabbed her arm. It was Linda Barclay.
âSheila! Run!"
Sheila got up and joined the clot of people that had jammed up at the kitchen door.
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