Read Online Requiem for a Ruler of Worlds by Brian Daley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brian Daley
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seams had a way of coming open at unpredictable times, or stubbornly remained closed when it was least convenient. Alacrity was sick of sudden drafts striking his posterior in the middle of a conversation, or hopping around the lavatory engaged in desperate conflict with the crotch seam. Little wonder Floyt thought him surly-looking.
Floyt, educated by Earthservice psychprop, saw what he'd expected: a not-quite-human with no respect for Terra or her past. Arrogant, no doubt, in his sole talent, which was to hop here and there around the void, contemptuous of Earth, uncaring that the virtues and nobility of the race had been fostered here, on this planet. Interesting in a freakish way, perhaps, with those eyes and the silver-gray mane, but a mongrel still and all.
Supervisor Bear offered terse introductions of the three conditioning techs, wishing to attract as little attention to herself as possible. Chief Behavioral Engineer Skinner was a heavily muscled, white-bearded man who'd adopted his name from that of one of his childhood idols. With him were his assistants, Clinicians Subutai (a tall, freckled, brown-haired woman, attractive in a rangy sort of way) and Seism (a thin, balding man with a pronounced squint and quite the darkest skin Alacrity had yet seen on Terra).
Bear gave them all a basilisk smile. "I trust you'll all get along satisfactorily." She left before Alacrity could make out much more about her than the fact that he hated her.
Subutai and Seism retired behind what looked to be a Chinese screen, replete with dragons and landscape motifs, to a hidden monitoring station. Alacrity saw no guards or security system, but had no doubt that both were nearby. He was sitting on the very edge of a heavily upholstered wingback chair.
Skinner invited Floyt to sit in another near it, then said, "Please, do sit back in your seats, citizens, and I shall—"
"I'm not one of your damned citizens!" Alacrity glared at Floyt. Behind the screen, Subutai and Seism smiled and nodded to one another over their instruments.
Skinner smiled blandly. "You're right. I beg your pardon, Alacrity. Now, both of you, please try to relax."
Floyt complied as best he could; Skinner's appearance, dress, and manner were all calculated to reassure an Earther, and that helped. Alacrity edged back unwillingly, spine in contact with the crimson velvet, but sitting bolt upright. Pickups in the chairs fed more data to the clinicians.
Skinner began a rambling explanation of why they were all there. The breakabout interrupted, almost in monotone. "Hold it. I promised I'd go through with this, but I never agreed to pretend to like it. Or to be genteel." He turned to Floyt; Subutai and Seism read some interesting data from both chairs. "And I won't pretend to like you, either."
Floyt was studying Alacrity as though he were something for which there ought to have been a vaccine. "If you should begin to approve of me, let me know, Fitzhugh. I'll change at once," he replied calmly.
Viewing the readouts, the hidden clinicians smiled, well pleased. Their chief made calming gestures; his two subjects settled down. Alacrity saw that he must surrender to the inevitable; Floyt obeyed Earthservice, as he had all his life.
Citizen Ash spoke up; the others were surprised to realize how inconspicuous he could be when he wished. "I must leave you now. Hobart, Alacrity: good luck to you both. I pray that you return soon." He turned to go; Alacrity called out to him, and he paused.
"What happened to the girl?" the breakabout wanted to know. "The one you were going to talk to when you left me? The one with no third way out?"
"I will see her again, a last time." Ash's face was a mask. The clinicians noticed strange peturbations in their readings. Then the executioner was gone.
Skinner began to rebuild the mood he desired, furious with the disruption but not even daring to consider criticizing Citizen Ash. He rubbed his hands together heartily. "Now then,
Floyt, educated by Earthservice psychprop, saw what he'd expected: a not-quite-human with no respect for Terra or her past. Arrogant, no doubt, in his sole talent, which was to hop here and there around the void, contemptuous of Earth, uncaring that the virtues and nobility of the race had been fostered here, on this planet. Interesting in a freakish way, perhaps, with those eyes and the silver-gray mane, but a mongrel still and all.
Supervisor Bear offered terse introductions of the three conditioning techs, wishing to attract as little attention to herself as possible. Chief Behavioral Engineer Skinner was a heavily muscled, white-bearded man who'd adopted his name from that of one of his childhood idols. With him were his assistants, Clinicians Subutai (a tall, freckled, brown-haired woman, attractive in a rangy sort of way) and Seism (a thin, balding man with a pronounced squint and quite the darkest skin Alacrity had yet seen on Terra).
Bear gave them all a basilisk smile. "I trust you'll all get along satisfactorily." She left before Alacrity could make out much more about her than the fact that he hated her.
Subutai and Seism retired behind what looked to be a Chinese screen, replete with dragons and landscape motifs, to a hidden monitoring station. Alacrity saw no guards or security system, but had no doubt that both were nearby. He was sitting on the very edge of a heavily upholstered wingback chair.
Skinner invited Floyt to sit in another near it, then said, "Please, do sit back in your seats, citizens, and I shall—"
"I'm not one of your damned citizens!" Alacrity glared at Floyt. Behind the screen, Subutai and Seism smiled and nodded to one another over their instruments.
Skinner smiled blandly. "You're right. I beg your pardon, Alacrity. Now, both of you, please try to relax."
Floyt complied as best he could; Skinner's appearance, dress, and manner were all calculated to reassure an Earther, and that helped. Alacrity edged back unwillingly, spine in contact with the crimson velvet, but sitting bolt upright. Pickups in the chairs fed more data to the clinicians.
Skinner began a rambling explanation of why they were all there. The breakabout interrupted, almost in monotone. "Hold it. I promised I'd go through with this, but I never agreed to pretend to like it. Or to be genteel." He turned to Floyt; Subutai and Seism read some interesting data from both chairs. "And I won't pretend to like you, either."
Floyt was studying Alacrity as though he were something for which there ought to have been a vaccine. "If you should begin to approve of me, let me know, Fitzhugh. I'll change at once," he replied calmly.
Viewing the readouts, the hidden clinicians smiled, well pleased. Their chief made calming gestures; his two subjects settled down. Alacrity saw that he must surrender to the inevitable; Floyt obeyed Earthservice, as he had all his life.
Citizen Ash spoke up; the others were surprised to realize how inconspicuous he could be when he wished. "I must leave you now. Hobart, Alacrity: good luck to you both. I pray that you return soon." He turned to go; Alacrity called out to him, and he paused.
"What happened to the girl?" the breakabout wanted to know. "The one you were going to talk to when you left me? The one with no third way out?"
"I will see her again, a last time." Ash's face was a mask. The clinicians noticed strange peturbations in their readings. Then the executioner was gone.
Skinner began to rebuild the mood he desired, furious with the disruption but not even daring to consider criticizing Citizen Ash. He rubbed his hands together heartily. "Now then,
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