Part 41 (1/2)
”Exalted Fleetlord, I do not need to be libelous to be interesting,” Straha said.
”I will be the judge of that, when my aides and I see the ma.n.u.script you produce,” Atvar said.
Had Straha been a Big Ugly, he would have smiled. ”You and your aides will not be the only ones judging it. I am sure Fleetlord Reffet and many of the colonists would be fascinated to learn all all the details of what happened before they got here. And, as I say, I doubt I would need to distort the truth in any way to keep them entertained and their tongues wagging.” the details of what happened before they got here. And, as I say, I doubt I would need to distort the truth in any way to keep them entertained and their tongues wagging.”
He waited to see how Atvar would take that. He despised Reffet almost as much as Atvar did, but if he could use the fleetlord of the colonization fleet as a lever against the fleetlord of the conquest fleet, he would not only do it, he would enjoy doing it. And, sure enough, Atvar said, ”You mean you will go out of your way to embarra.s.s me and hope Reffet will like the result enough to let you go ahead and publish it.”
”That is not at all what I said, Exalted Fleetlord,” Straha protested, although it was exactly what he'd meant.
”Suppose I let you get away with that,” Atvar said. ”Suppose I pretend not to notice whatever you may have to say about me. Will you include in your memoirs pa.s.sages indicating the need for a long-term Soldiers' Time here on Tosev 3, to help stop the endless grumbling from the colonists? The Race, after all, is more important than either one of us.”
Straha hadn't expected that, either. Yes, Atvar had changed over the years. To some degree, that made him harder to dislike, but only to some degree. Straha made the affirmative gesture. ”I think we have a bargain.”
”Imagine my delight.” Atvar broke the connection. No, he wasn't so hard to dislike after all.
.15.
As Reuven and Moishe Russie were walking from their home to the office they now shared, Reuven's father asked him, ”And how is Mrs. Radofsky's toe these days?”
His tone was a little too elaborately casual to be quite convincing. ”It seems to be coming along very well,” Reuven answered. Listening to himself, he found he also sounded a little too elaborately casual to be quite convincing.
”I'm glad to hear it,” Moishe Russie said. ”And what is your opinion of those parts of Mrs. Radofsky located north of her fractured toe?”
”My medical opinion is that the rest of Mrs. Radofsky is quite healthy,” Reuven replied.
His father smiled. ”I don't believe I asked for your medical opinion.”
”Well, it's what you're going to get,” Reuven said, which made Moishe Russie laugh out loud. After a few more paces, Reuven added, ”I think she's a very nice person. Her daughter is a sweet little girl.”
”Yes, that's always a good sign,” Moishe Russie agreed.
”A good sign of what?” Reuven asked.
”That someone is a nice person,” his father said. ”Nice people commonly have nice children.” He gave his own son a sidelong glance. ”There are exceptions every now and then, of course.”
”Yes, I suppose an obnoxious father could have a nice son,” Reuven said blandly. His father laughed again, and thumped him on the back.
They were both still chuckling as they went into the office. Yetta, the receptionist, had got there ahead of both of them. She sent them disapproving looks. ”What's waiting for us today, Yetta?” Moishe Russie asked. He and Reuven already had a pretty good idea of their scheduled appointments, but Yetta got fussy if they didn't respect what she saw as her prerogative.
Sometimes, as now, she got fussy anyhow. ”Neither one of you has enough to keep you busy,” she complained. ”I don't know how you expect to pay the bills if you don't have more patients.”
”We're doing all right,” Reuven said, which was true and more than true.
”Well, you won't keep doing all right unless more people come down sick,” Yetta snapped. Reuven looked at his father. His father was looking at him. That made it harder for both of them to keep from laughing. Somehow, they managed. They went past the disapproving Yetta and into their own offices. Neither of them had an appointment scheduled till ten o'clock, an hour and a half away. Reuven caught up on paperwork-a never-ending struggle-and was working his way through a Lizard medical journal when his father called him.
”What's up?” Reuven asked.
”I hear Ppurrin and Waxxa really have gone to the United States,” Moishe Russie answered.
”Have they?” Reuven said. ”Well, that's one problem solved for old Atvar, then, and some credit for us because we came up with the idea for him.”
”Credit for us, yes,” his father said. ”A problem solved? I don't know. I wouldn't bet on it, though for the time being I think Atvar thinks he won't have to worry about it any more.”
”What do you mean?” Reuven said. ”The Americans will let those Lizards stay. They may be perverts to the Race, but not to us.”
”I'm sure the Americans will let them stay, yes.” His father nodded. ”That's not the problem, or not as I see it, anyhow.”
Reuven scratched his head. ”What is, then? I'm sorry, Father, but I'm not following you at all.”
No? Moishe Russie grinned. ”All right. Let's put it like this: do you think Ppurrin and Waxxa will be the only pair of what the Lizards call perverts that they'll have? A lot of Lizards taste ginger.”
”Oh,” Reuven said, and then, in an altogether different tone of voice, ”Oh.” ”Oh.” He gave his father an admiring look. ”You think those two are just the tip of the iceberg, don't you?” He gave his father an admiring look. ”You think those two are just the tip of the iceberg, don't you?”
”Don't you?” his father returned. ”The colonists haven't been here very long, after all, and this is already starting to happen. What will things be like when you're my age? What will things be like when your children are my age?”
Most times, Reuven would have pointed out with some heat that he had no children at present. Today, though, he nodded thoughtfully. ”They'll have to change a lot of things to adjust to that, won't they? I mean, if they really do start forming permanent mated pairs.”
”Start falling in love and getting married,” Moishe Russie said, and Reuven nodded, accepting the correction. His father went on, ”It will be as hard for them to get used to the idea of pairs settling down together as it would be for us to get used to the idea of being promiscuous all the time.” He wagged a finger at his son. ”And wipe that dirty grin off your face.”
”Who, me?” Reuven said, as innocently as he could. ”I don't know what you're talking about.”
”That's pretty funny,” Moishe Russie said. ”Now tell me another one.”
”No.” Reuven shook his head. He cautiously looked out the door, then lowered his voice anyhow: ”Who do you think I am, Yetta or somebody?”
His father rolled his eyes. ”She does her work well. As for the rest...” He shrugged and then, in a near whisper, went on, ”We might get somebody who's a pain in the neck and doesn't do her job well. I can put up with bad jokes.”
”I suppose so.” Reuven pulled his mind back to the business at hand. ”Do you really think we'll see a day when the Lizards start pairing off by the thousands instead of just one couple at a time? That would make this world different from all the others in the Empire in some very important ways.”
”I know,” Moishe Russie said. ”I'm not sure the Race has really figured all of that out yet. And it will be years before the other planets in the Empire find out what ginger is doing here, even if it does what I think it will. It's always going to be years between stars as far as radio goes, and even more years between them as far as travel. The Race is more patient than we are. I don't think we could have built an empire that would hang together in spite of all the delays in giving orders and getting things done.”
”You're bound to be right about that,” Reuven said. ”Somebody who was governor on one planet would decide he wanted to be king or president or whatever he called himself, and he'd stop taking orders and set up his own government or else start a civil war.”
”That's how we are,” his father agreed. ”The Lizards here know it, too. I wonder what they think of us back on Home.”
”So do I,” Reuven said. ”Whatever it is, it's bound to be ten years out of date.”
”I know.” Moishe Russie laughed. ”And by the time Home answers, it's twenty years out of date. Atvar is just now finding out what the Emperor thinks of the truce he made with us Big Uglies.”
”And what does the Emperor think?” Reuven asked. ”Has Atvar said?” He was going to use his father's connections with the Race for all they were worth.
”He hasn't said much,” his father answered. ”I gather the Emperor knows Atvar's the man, uh, the Lizard on the spot, and so he has to do what he thinks best. It's a good thing the Emperor didn't order him to go back to war with all of us, and you had best believe that's a truth.” He'd been speaking Hebrew, but threw in an emphatic cough even so.
”Do you really think he would have done it if the Emperor had told him to?” Reuven asked. That unpleasant possibility hadn't crossed his mind.