Read Online Spartan Planet by A. Bertram Chandler - Free Book Online
Authors: A. Bertram Chandler
Tags: Science-Fiction
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upon the King and his Council."
"Where's my fore-and-aft hat?" muttered Grimes. He got up, went through one of the curtained doorways. He emerged wearing an odd, gold-braided, black cloth helmet. He said, "Lead on, MacDuff."
"It should be 'Lay on, MacDuff,' " Margaret Lazenby told him.
"I know, I know."
"And who is MacDuff?" asked Diomedes.
"He's dead. He was the Thane of Cawdor."
"And where is Cawdor?"
Grimes sighed.
* * *
Brasidus, although he could not say why he did so, enjoyed the ride to the city. He, Grimes and Margaret Lazenby were in the back seat of the car, with the Arcadian (it was as good a label as any) sitting between the two humans. He was stirred by the close proximity of this strange being, almost uncomfortably so. When Margaret Lazenby leaned across him to look at a medusa tree swarming with harpies, he realized that those peculiar fleshy mounds, which even the severe uniform could not hide, were deliciously soft. So much for the built-in weapon theory. "What fantastic birds!" exclaimed the Arcadian.
"They are harpies," said Brasidus.
"Those round bodies do look like human heads, don't they? They could be straight out of Greek mythology."
"So you have already made a study of our legends?" asked Brasidus, interested.
"Of course." Margaret Lazenby smiled. (His lips against the white teeth were very red. Could it be natural?) "But they aren't just your legends. They belong to all Mankind."
"I suppose they do. Admiral Latterus must have carried well-stocked libraries aboard his ships."
"Admiral Latterus?" asked Margaret Lazenby curiously.
"The founder of Latterhaven. I am surprised that you have not heard of him. He was sent from Sparta to establish the colony, but he made himself King of the new world and never returned."
"What a beautiful history," murmured the Arcadian. "Carefully tailored to fit the facts. Tell me, Brasidus, did you ever hear of the Third Expansion, or of Captain John Latter, master of the early timejammer Utah? Come to that, did you ever hear of the First Expansion?"
"You talk in riddles, Margaret Lazenby."
"And you and your world are riddles that must be solved, Brasidus."
"Careful, Peggy," warned John Grimes.
The Arcadian turned to address his commander—and, as he did so, Brasidus was acutely conscious of the softness and resilience of the rump under the uniform kilt. "They'll have to be told the truth some time, John—and I'm sure that Brasidus will forgive me for using him as the guinea pig for the first experiment. But I am a little drunk, I guess. All this glorious fresh air after weeks of the canned variety. And look at those houses! With architecture like that, there should be real chariots escorting us, not these hunks of animated ironmongery. Still, apart from his sidearms, Brasidus is dressed properly."
"The ordinary hoplites," said Brasidus with some pride, "those belonging to the subject city-states, are armed only with swords and spears."
"They didn't have wristwatches in ancient Sparta," Grimes pointed out.
"Oh, be practical, John. He could hardly wear an hourglass or a sundial on his arm, could he?"
"It's . . . phony," grumbled Grimes.
"It should be as phony as all hell, but it's not," Margaret Lazenby told him. "I wish I'd known just how things are here, though. I'd have soaked up Hellenic history before we came here . . . What are those animals, Brasidus? They look almost like a sort of hairless wolf."
"They are the scavengers. They keep the streets of the city clean. There is a larger variety, wild, out on the hills and plains. They are the wolves."
"But that one, there. Look! It's Siamese twins. It seems to be in pain. Why doesn't somebody do something about it?"
"But why? It's only budding. Don't you reproduce like us—or like we used to, before Lacedaemon invented the birth machine?" He paused. "But I suppose you have birth machines, too."
"We do," said Grimes—and Margaret Lazenby reddened. It was
"Where's my fore-and-aft hat?" muttered Grimes. He got up, went through one of the curtained doorways. He emerged wearing an odd, gold-braided, black cloth helmet. He said, "Lead on, MacDuff."
"It should be 'Lay on, MacDuff,' " Margaret Lazenby told him.
"I know, I know."
"And who is MacDuff?" asked Diomedes.
"He's dead. He was the Thane of Cawdor."
"And where is Cawdor?"
Grimes sighed.
* * *
Brasidus, although he could not say why he did so, enjoyed the ride to the city. He, Grimes and Margaret Lazenby were in the back seat of the car, with the Arcadian (it was as good a label as any) sitting between the two humans. He was stirred by the close proximity of this strange being, almost uncomfortably so. When Margaret Lazenby leaned across him to look at a medusa tree swarming with harpies, he realized that those peculiar fleshy mounds, which even the severe uniform could not hide, were deliciously soft. So much for the built-in weapon theory. "What fantastic birds!" exclaimed the Arcadian.
"They are harpies," said Brasidus.
"Those round bodies do look like human heads, don't they? They could be straight out of Greek mythology."
"So you have already made a study of our legends?" asked Brasidus, interested.
"Of course." Margaret Lazenby smiled. (His lips against the white teeth were very red. Could it be natural?) "But they aren't just your legends. They belong to all Mankind."
"I suppose they do. Admiral Latterus must have carried well-stocked libraries aboard his ships."
"Admiral Latterus?" asked Margaret Lazenby curiously.
"The founder of Latterhaven. I am surprised that you have not heard of him. He was sent from Sparta to establish the colony, but he made himself King of the new world and never returned."
"What a beautiful history," murmured the Arcadian. "Carefully tailored to fit the facts. Tell me, Brasidus, did you ever hear of the Third Expansion, or of Captain John Latter, master of the early timejammer Utah? Come to that, did you ever hear of the First Expansion?"
"You talk in riddles, Margaret Lazenby."
"And you and your world are riddles that must be solved, Brasidus."
"Careful, Peggy," warned John Grimes.
The Arcadian turned to address his commander—and, as he did so, Brasidus was acutely conscious of the softness and resilience of the rump under the uniform kilt. "They'll have to be told the truth some time, John—and I'm sure that Brasidus will forgive me for using him as the guinea pig for the first experiment. But I am a little drunk, I guess. All this glorious fresh air after weeks of the canned variety. And look at those houses! With architecture like that, there should be real chariots escorting us, not these hunks of animated ironmongery. Still, apart from his sidearms, Brasidus is dressed properly."
"The ordinary hoplites," said Brasidus with some pride, "those belonging to the subject city-states, are armed only with swords and spears."
"They didn't have wristwatches in ancient Sparta," Grimes pointed out.
"Oh, be practical, John. He could hardly wear an hourglass or a sundial on his arm, could he?"
"It's . . . phony," grumbled Grimes.
"It should be as phony as all hell, but it's not," Margaret Lazenby told him. "I wish I'd known just how things are here, though. I'd have soaked up Hellenic history before we came here . . . What are those animals, Brasidus? They look almost like a sort of hairless wolf."
"They are the scavengers. They keep the streets of the city clean. There is a larger variety, wild, out on the hills and plains. They are the wolves."
"But that one, there. Look! It's Siamese twins. It seems to be in pain. Why doesn't somebody do something about it?"
"But why? It's only budding. Don't you reproduce like us—or like we used to, before Lacedaemon invented the birth machine?" He paused. "But I suppose you have birth machines, too."
"We do," said Grimes—and Margaret Lazenby reddened. It was
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