High Couch of Silistra Read Online Free PDF Page A

M’lennin, in his strange home of clicking machines and canned and frozen food, where time and date are Bipedal Federate Standard, and nothing Silistran. M’lennin prides himself on his retention of off-world customs, and holds us, I am afraid, in sour contempt. He would have us mechanize and modernize and become like all the other Federate worlds. Much money comes to Silistra, but little goes back to the star-worlds. This is a great problem, in his mind. I think matters are as they should be. If Silistra became as all the other star-worlds, if we were not unique, what would we have to offer them?
    Such were my thoughts as Santh bore me effortlessly toward M’lennin’s star-steel fortress. Within its walls was the help I needed. It was well within the Liaison’s power to analyze the data contained in my mother’s tape and make me the copies I desired. Since each major Well had its own Liaison, and these kept in constant contact with each other, I could also benefit from his assistance in arranging my stay in Well Arlet. Doubtless, too, he could provide me speedy and anonymous passage up the coast. Perhaps his computer complex would be able to pinpoint my father’s race and planet, and I would not need to go to Arlet at all.
    There was, however, one problem in obtaining this invaluable assistance from my former couch-mate, and this problem was more and more in my mind as the hulking geometric Keep of the Liaison First loomed larger and larger on the horizon. I would have to ask. I, who had so many times derided M’lennin for his all-consuming technological passion, who had declared my independence from communicators and computers, now found myself in the ignominious position of needing those very machines which I had so loudly decried.
    Dusk was fast approaching. The lights, keyed by an electronic sensor, were ablaze in M’lennin’s outer court. Still I had found no way to approach him that would allow me to retain my dignity. Perhaps I would have to admit that, indeed, his toys were good for something after all. I stopped Santh with a touch, and dismounted, walking by his side through the electric eyes that sentried the outer gate. Now M’lennin knew I had arrived.
    I dallied in the empty court, hoping in these last few moments that some inspiration would come to me. I scratched Santh under his massive chin, and he butted me with his head toward the door. He knew where he was. He had been raised his first year here.
    The hulion was anxious to be indoors with his sister, Sithantha. I sighed. It would be unpleasant, but the time called the move. I must set aside my pride and principles and my personal feelings for M’lennin. I wished it were not he whom I must petition for aid. He would take much satisfaction from my plight.
    Santh growled restlessly. I ran the three broad steps to the star-steel door and put my hand to the glowing red panel. The door slid silently aside to admit us. With Santh at my heels, I stepped into the reception hall. The door slid back into place.
    We had taken but three or four steps along the hallway when I heard the clatter of running feet and M’lennin careened down the steps directly in front of me, almost colliding with Santh.
    He was gasping for breath, his black-and-gold dress tunic rumpled, his face contorted. He reached out a hand as if to steady me, and then I understood.
    “Time has improved our relationship, M’len.” I grinned at him. “I had not imagined you so anxious to see me.”
    “The blood, I thought, that is…” He took his hand from my shoulder and ran it through his blond beard. His blue eyes were keen and icy.
    “I thought you were hurt,” he began again, looking pointedly at my bloodstained garment. “I see I was mistaken.”
    “Only a fresh meal I took with Santh on the trail.” I reached out to take his fine-boned, freckled hand. “It is good to see you, Liaison. What have the winds blown you?” I dropped his hand and stripped the surcingle from