The Green Odyssey by Philip José Farmer (love books to read TXT) 📗

the spacecraft, which he could see glittering in the sun inside its wall near the palace. When Amra and the girls ran into the chamber and wished to throw their arms around him, he told them he'd be very glad to give each a big warm kiss later on. Right now he had work to do.

Amra's smile was replaced by a frown.

"Do you mean you're still thinking of leaving on the demon's ship?" she said harshly.

"That depends on certain factors about which I don't have enough information as yet to act on," he replied, somewhat stiffly.

The Earthman limped in. He was a tall, broad-shouldered but emaciated man. His bushy beard made his long, lean, big-eared, hawk-nosed face resemble Lincoln's.

"Captain Walzer of the Terrestrial Interstellar Fleet, Intelligence, he said, weakly.

"Alan Green, marine food specialist. I've a long story to tell and no time to tell it. I would like to know if you can pilot that spacer and if it's in operating condition. Otherwise we might as well forget it and go elsewhere."

"Yes, I'm the pilot. Hassan was the navigator and communications officer. Poor devil, he died in agony! Those beasts...!"

"I know how you feel, but we've no time to go into that. Is the ship ready to take off?"

Walzer sat down and leaned his head wearily to one side. Grizquetr offered him wine, and he took two long swallows and smacked his lips before replying.

"Ah, that's the first drink I've had for two years! Yes, the bird's ready to take off on a moment's notice. We'd been on a mission whose purpose I can't tell you. Security, you know. We were returning when we encountered this system. Since it's part of our duty to report any T-type planet if we've time, we decided to stop off and stretch our legs. We'd been in space so long we were beginning to suffer from claustrophobia and were ready to fly at each other's throats. You know how it is if you've made any very long voyages. And those scouts have especially cramped quarters. They're not made for long trips, but the nature of our mission required the use of one ... well, we won't go into that.

"Anyway, we were wild to breathe fresh air again, to see a horizon, to feel grass beneath our bare feet, to go swimming, to eat freshly killed meat and freshly picked fruit. We rationalized ourselves into the idea that it was our duty to land. We decided on this city because it was so conspicuous, stuck out here in the middle of this incredible plain. And, of course, when we got close enough to see that it seemed to be surrounded by a ring of spaceships we had to enter the city itself and inquire about this phenomenon. We were greeted friendlily enough, lulled into being off guard, then attacked. The rest of the story you know."

Green nodded and said, "Here we are. Just above the ship."

He rose from the chair and faced the group. "But before we take any further steps I think we ought to thrash out something right now that has been bothering Amra and me. Tell me, Walzer, is there enough room for Amra, Paxi, Soon, Grizquetr and myself? And perhaps for Inzax, if she wished to come along?"

Walzer's eyes widened. "No, man, absolutely not! There's barely space for you, let alone anybody else."

Green held out his hands to Amra. "You see? I was afraid of this all the time. I'll have to go without you."

He paused, swallowed, then said, "But I'll return! I swear I will! I'll get the Interstellar Archaeology Bureau interested in this planet. When I tell them of the Xurdimur, of the rocket-shaped towers, of the islands with their anti-gravity machines, they'll not hesitate a moment in organizing an expedition. The chance of solving the mystery of how man spread all over the Galaxy in prehistoric times will be too strong for them.

"And I'll come back with them. And I'll make this planet my life work. I've a Ph.D. in ichthyology, and I can get accredited as a scientific member of the expedition. There's no doubt about it!"

Amra fell into his arms, weeping, crying that she had known all the time that he couldn't leave her. Then in the next breath she was swearing that he was just promising to return so he would avoid a scene.

"I know men well, Alan Green, and I know you, especially. You won't come back!"

"Yes, I will, I swear it. If you know men so well, you ought to know that no man who is worthy of being called a man could even think of leaving a woman like you."

She smiled through her tears and said, "That's what I wanted to hear you say. But, oh, Alan, it'll be so long. Won't it take at least two years?"

"Yes, at least. But it can't be helped. I'll worry about you while I'm gone. Or I would if I didn't know how capable you were."

"I can learn how to run this island," she said half-sobbing, half-smiling. "By the time you get back I'll probably be Queen of the Xurdimur. I could contact the Vings, and together we could have the whole plain and every city along its border under our thumbs. And...."

He laughed and said, "That was what I was afraid of."

Turning to Walzer, he said, "Look, you're too weak to consider another long trip immediately. Why don't you just follow this island in your ship until we get to a safe distance from here, say about a thousand miles due north? We'll live on the island until you get your strength back and get over your claustrophobia. I imagine it wasn't helped any by being cooped up in that dungeon. When you're ready we'll take off. In the meantime I can be showing Amra and Grizquetr just what can be done with the island. She can be living on it while I'm gone. We'll trap wild life to replace the animals that were strangled when I went up too high for them to breathe. She can shuttle back and forth over the Xurdimur, or over the whole planet if she wishes. And she will, I hope, stay out of mischief until I get back."

"That's fine," said Walzer. "I'll get in the ship and follow you."

Three weeks later, the two Earthmen boarded the scout and closed the port behind them, the port that would not open again until they were on Earth, some four months subjective time away. They sat down in the control cabin, and Walzer began pushing buttons and throwing switches.

Green wiped the sweat from his brow, the tears from his eyes, and said, "Whew!"

"A fine woman," said Walzer, sympathetically. "A rare beauty. She has a tremendous impact upon one."

"Something like crashing into a planet head-on," said Green. "She has the faculty of wringing out every last bit of energy left in the particular emotion she happens to be feeling at the moment. A great actress who believes in her roles."

"Her children are fine children, too," Walzer added, slowly and as if he were about to say something that might hurt Green's feelings but was anxious not to do so. "You will be glad to see them again, of course."

"Of course. After all, Paxi's my daughter, I love the others as if they were also mine."

"Ah," breathed Walzer. "Then you are going back to her?"

Green didn't express surprise or anger, because he had guessed from Walzer's actions just what he was thinking.

"You can't imagine my wanting to live on that barbaric planet with that woman, can you?" he said, evenly. "That after all, there are serious gaps in our ways of thinking, in our behavior, in our education. Isn't that what you meant by your statement?"

Walzer glanced out of the corners of his eyes at Green, then replied warily, "Well, yes. But you know what you want far better than I do." He paused, then added, "I must say I admire your courage."

Green shrugged.

"After all I've been through I'm not afraid to take one more chance."

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THE FROZEN YEAR

by James Blish

"I'm Julian Cole. I'm a science writer. I've read about every theory of history you can name, and only one makes sense: the one which assumes that every historical event is aimed personally at my very own head."

Sounds paranoid, doesn't it? But wait. Suppose you had the job given to Julian Cole: official historian to a grand-stand Arctic explorer who sets off on a disastrously ridiculous expedition to the far North. Suppose you had to cope with the explorer's highly pneumatic wife and an assortment of characters one of whom is either a Martian or insane? And, to cap it all, suppose you held in your hands proof of the biggest science story of the century—and nobody would believe you?

Wouldn't you feel just a little like Julian Cole?

JAMES BLISH is no newcomer to the field of science fiction. Indeed, his is one of the names which has long signified quality to a discerning audience. THE FROZEN YEAR is a highly topical novel set against the back-ground of the International Geophysical Year. It has biting and acid reflections to make on public relations, the inner workings of large foundations—and demonstrates the surprising and wonderful ways in which human beings react to the unexpected.

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PHILIP JOSÉ FARMER....

created a furore—and an important name in science fiction—with the publication of his very first story, The Lovers.

To his first eager audience, and to the many followers he has gained since then, he now brings a full-length novel—and it happily fulfills his reputation for the unexpected.

THE GREEN ODYSSEY....

is an uproarious, hell-bent adventure story, combining fantasy, imagination and science, with a liberal dash of humor. It is in the best tradition of adventure science fiction, a swashbuckling tale of a resourceful spaceman who is, however, uneasily aware that he may have been miscast. Fortunately, he has the assistance of a large, gorgeous, energetic and adoring female who is supremely confident of his ability to handle all comers. With her help, that is.

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End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Green Odyssey, by Philip Jos� Farmer