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

so here’s the great Brian Kirwan, a descendant of the high kings of Tara, sweating away like a bogtrotting peasant all afternoon. Just look at those blisters!”
    “Look at mine!” said Bahr. “All day I have been pushing a saw and a plane, which I had not for forty years touched.”
    Althea spoke up. “I don’t want to complain, but if everybody’s going to brag about their blisters, here are mine.”
    “Ah, the black shame of it,” said Kirwan. “And you a delicately nurtured young lady! However, there’s one cure for that. In yonder bag are two bottles of the rarest old Irish poteen which I’ve been saving for such an occasion. I’ve dragged ’em clear from Earth, and with the freight rates what they are you’ll practically be drinking liquid gold.”
    He began to rummage. After he had gone through the bag carefully several times, without finding the bottles, he leaped to his feet, fists clenched, shouting curses like a madman and stamping the earthen floor like a child in a tantrum. His screams and roars brought Diogo Kuroki to the hut.
    “Is something the matter, senhores?”
    “Is something the matter, he says! Listen to the man! Look, you squint-eyed heathen, what’s become of them two bottles of liquor I had in my luggage?”
    “Why, we took them out to add to our medical store.”
    “What?” shrieked Kirwan.
    “Certainly. We do not allow the drinking of distilled liquors for pleasure here. Distillation is a process of the mechanized, industrialized world, which we are getting away from. Our only social drinking is that of falat-wine which we ferment ourselves, and that only on Tendays.”
    Kirwan sat down on the edge of his bed, buried his face in his hands, and burst into tears. Kuroki-Zeus watched him impassively, then said, “Supper will be served in the Hall in a few minutes. A bell will ring.” He departed.

VII
    The third day after Althea’s arrival at Elysion happened to be Tenday, the last day of the Krishnan “week” and the traditional day of rest. Diogo Kuroki had adopted this tradition for his colony. At breakfast, Althea said, “At least I’ll be able to let my blisters heal.”
    Kirwan grunted agreement. “I hear the younger ones have games and dances and things, but I feel more like lying on me back and letting me genius operate.”
    Bahr said, “I fear, my friends, that if you expect a day of restful idleness, you are in for an unpleasant surprise.”
    “Huh?” said Kirwan.
    “Pleasure, I understand, is compulsory here. With a keen eye to the welfare of his flock, Senhor Zeus has arranged a healthful program of games and sports, lest by an excess of leisure anyone be led into temptation.”
    “He can’t! Damned if I’ll—” began Kirwan, but the jangle of a bell interrupted him. Diogo Kuroki, looking like an Oriental god of bronze, rose at the head table and announced, “Everybody shall be at the playing field in one hour. You are dismissed.”
    Kirwan snorted. “Let them try to find me when the hour comes round. It’s far away I’ll be . . .”
    When the time arrived, however, Kirwan was there with the rest. Althea sat on the sidelines, on a patch of grasslike plant. Kirwan sat on one side, Bahr on the other, watching naked Roussellians run, wrestle, dance, throw heavy stones, and otherwise exert themselves. Althea found the sight interesting, although she could see that it might become tedious with compulsory repetition.
    After breakfast, Kirwan had wandered off, he said to poetize. When Althea and Bahr had taken this place, the poet had at once reappeared, to sit on her other side. At first, Althea had thought that he had changed his mind about defying the leader’s orders. Then something in his manner suggested another motive.
    Now that she thought of it, for several days, each of these two had shown a tendency not to let Althea out of his sight in the other’s company. If she had been more observant, she would have noticed this trend sooner.
    Althea