Read Online The Virgin of Zesh & the Tower of Zanid by L. Sprague de Camp - Free Book Online Page A

overseer out to the field, where he pressed a hoe into her hand.
    “Now,” he said, “you simply walk down one row and up the other, and wherever you see any plant but a shoot of badr you hoe it up. Go ahead— hey, that’s a badr plant you destroyed! Be careful!”
    “I can’t tell the difference,” said Althea, to whom the mass of little green and brown and purple things all looked alike.
    “I shall explain.” Senhor Diomedes picked up the little seedling that Althea had ignorantly hoed up and pointed out its physical attributes, compared with those of the weeds. “Now, when you come to one of these,” he said, pulling up another plant, “you must tear it up by the roots. It’s so viable that, if even a bit of root is left, it will grow again. This kind you must collect and burn, because it will take root again if left lying on the ground. This kind you must be careful with, because it shoots out little poisoned darts when disturbed. They can make you quite sick. This one has a bladder that bursts, releasing a horrible stench, but it will not injure you . . .”
    After more instruction, Althea thought that she had the hang of the job. Diomedes said, “Good; I knew you were an intelligent— look out! You’re getting too close to the badr, stupid!”
    “Sorry,” said Althea. “How long must I keep at this?” The hoe was already feeling heavy.
    “Until sunset. A bell will ring.”
    Althea let a small sigh escape. “That seems like a long working day.”
    “My dear young lady, did you think a colony like this can thrive on a pre-industrial basis with less work than in a mechanized society? On the contrary, we have to work twice as hard to attain a much lower standard of living. We work from sunrise to sunset, with not more than one day in ten off, and hope that diseases or flocks of aqebats won’t destroy our crops and starve us out.”
    Althea looked at the man. “What were you before you came here?”
    “My name was Aaron Halevi, and I was the assistant manager of the Bank of Israel in Tel-Aviv. My wife ran away with an Egyptian weight-lifter, and here I am— hey!” Diomedes bounded up and down, his pot-belly quivering. “Never whack at a stone that way! You’ll break your hoe, and they’re hard to replace. You pick the stone up and carry it to the edge of the field.”
    “Where do you get your tools?”
    “We trade them from the Záva for falat-wine. They are building up quite an industry on their island. Hey, look there! You missed a weed!”
    “Sorry. I thought Zeus said you were entirely self-sufficient?”
    Halevi shrugged. “We do our best, but there’s no local ore and no blacksmith.”
    “Do you like this better than the bank?” asked Althea.
    “No comparison! Here one can be a natural man, free—that is.” He lowered his voice, “It would be free if Zeus weren’t such a damned autocrat. Someday,” added Diomedes darkly, “there will be changes. Now, are there any more questions?”
    “N-no, I think I know the job.”
    “You could work more comfortably without those silly clothes, you know.”
    “I suppose so, but as a missionary I can’t follow your suggestions.”
    “Oho, so that’s it! I’m a Neo-Buddhist myself. Call me if you need me.”
    Diomedes-Halevi strode off. Presently, Althea heard his penetrating voice raised in reprimand from another part of the farm. She concentrated on her weeds.
    ###
    It seemed as though the long Krishnan day would never end. Diomedes dropped by once to see how she was doing, grunted approvingly, and waddled off.
    When Roqir’s disk finally touched the horizon, a bell rang from the village. The other workers streamed back toward the huts. Althea found Bahr and Kirwan washing their faces in their hut. Kirwan, who now wore the himation of the cult, was loud in his complaints.
    “Glory be to Peter and Paul, I told ’em all about meself, but did it make any difference? Devil a bit! ‘You work for your keep, me lad,’ says the boss,