Amazon Planet up-5
Page 18
“When did you stop having a military?” Ronny asked curiously.
“From the beginning. We’re women, remember.”
Ronny said dryly, “I seem to remember such women in history as Elizabeth the First, Catherine the Great and Zenobia who didn’t exactly avoid war.”
Hippolyte nodded. “But they were women living in a man’s world, and having to adopt men’s methods in order to realize their ambitions. Ours was a woman’s world. One of our original revolts was against the incessant armed conflict that has persisted since the early days of man’s dominance.”
He said, “Why the big masquerade? Why let those stories go around about the Amazons on this planet, the harems of men?”
The small group standing behind the two seated Amazon leaders stirred in suppressed laughter.
“Why encourage all this nonsense by such things as sending as delegates to the UP on Earth, big strapping muscular type women, all done up in uniforms that look straight out of the Trojan War?”
The Hippolyte chuckled wryly. “I thought anyone as astute as yourself, Ronald Bronston, would have figured that out by this time. We were defenseless. We neither had, nor wanted a military. But we knew we stood alone, a matriarchy in a confederation of two or three thousand planets dominated by men. Frankly, we were afraid. We were afraid man’s instinct would be to pull us down. So it was we put up our false front. So it was we let rumors spread that we would give any man pause before he landed on our world. Of recent decades, our spies have brought rumors back to us that intensified our fears. We heard that the institutions of some of the member planets of UP were being subverted. That governments were being overthrown through the connivance of certain UP agencies.” She nodded. “What you told us under Scop made us realize our fears were well grounded.”
Ronny avoided that and went back. “If there isn’t any real conflict between your two major continents, why don’t you have world government?”
One of the standees, a man Ronny vaguely recalled as Aeasus, interrupted for the first time… Ronny had pegged him before as some sort of economist.
He said, “Don’t you see? We act as controls upon each other. If we attempt some new theory, and there seems to be an alternative, we let one continent try this system, the other that.” He added, sourly, “Sometimes both are wrong.”
Ronny was nodding in memory. “Podner Bates was telling me about your method of voting. In Lybia, you seem to have a variation on popular democracy—through industrial representation, of course—and in Paphalagonia, more nearly a representative one.”
Someone said from behind, “That’s correct.”
Ronny said, “But what’s all this about you being the Myrine and you the Hippolyte, and the pylons and the genos and such?”
The Hippolyte sighed wryly. “You probably read some of it in those early papers you scanned at the Octagon library. At first we tried to go back to gentile society, based on descent in the matrilineal line, and with women only given the vote. Some of the symbols of this we still retain, such as descent in the female line, which obviously is at least as sensible as descent in the male line. But, bit by bit, real government control was taken away from this organization and handed over to the central production congress until at long last our body was in charge only of civil matters.”
The Myrine said here, “I beg our pardon, my dear. Even that applies only here in Paphlagonia. In Lybia we are experimenting with universl suffrage even in civil matters, and making it an ‘industry’ involving men as well as women and with representation in our central congress.”
“What do you mean, civil matters?” Ronny said.
“Matters pertaining not to production and such problems, but to every day civic life. Traffic problems, planning of a city’s supply of water and disposal of sewage, organization of festivals, judging of disputes between citizens. In the old days, before we had eliminated crime for all practical purposes, police, courts, prisons, that sort of thing.”
Ronny said, “Just one other matter. This system of paying in hours. Where’d you come up with that silly idea that all time is worth exactly the same?”
Aeasus blurted, “What’s silly about it, you flat!”
The Myrine laughed heartily.
She bent a friendly eye on Ronny and said, “You’re quite right. In Lybia, we have varying values for an hour. A highly trained man’s time can be worth several times as many hours as an unskilled man. We still count by hours, but we have different scales.”
The Hippolyte grumbled, “It’s an experiment we haven’t concluded as yet. We’re not sure if Lybia’s right or not.”
She changed the subject. “Purely to satisfy my own curiosity, how did you see through the elaborate show we put on for you? Frankly, when Oreithyia told us you were a man, we were in a tizzy. We wanted the columbium very badly, but we didn’t want you to come in contact with our world as it is. My…” her face showed quick pain “…my daughter helped out, planning an extensive masquerade in which she seemed to take considerable pleasure. She always was fascinated by Earth, which is why she liked to meet the incoming spaceships as one of the customs officers.” She hesitated. “Perhaps that is why she became attracted to you, personally.”
Ronny said softly, “At the end, I assure you, the attraction was reciprocated. I don’t know what it was that first made me smell a rat. Many things, I suppose. One of the matters that confused me considerably, though, was your throne room and all those hundreds of guards and attendants, playing court to you. It bore out everything I’d ever heard about Amazonia. Why, it was like a gigantic Tri-Di historical spectacular show.”
The Hippolyte said dryly, “That’s exactly what it was. We took you to a Tri-Di set. Our people love this sort of show and our entertainment industry produces a good many of them. To impress you, Minythyia simply made arrangements to take the set over, bag and baggage. Those soliders and attendants were all actors and extras. There is no such thing as a palace or throne room here in Themiscyra.”
Ronny took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks. “Well, several things gave me hints. For instance, Podner Bates was presented to me as though he was a typical Amazonian male, but no other males I met seemed to be like him. I was given the impression that all women were warriors, but then never saw anyone in uniform except those I came officially in contact with. But the payoff was when I saw Clete, and Podner, on a theater billboard. Clete had done that little act of hers, showing what efficient warriors Amazonians were, by making a bullseye throwing her short sword. But the billboard told me she was a professional knife thrower. Quite a coincidence. No, the whole thing didn’t hold together. I was told there were no newspapers or broadcasts. I can see why, now. If I had seen one, the beans would have been spilled. Another thing that didn’t fit was the fact that Tanais was an exchange student from Lybia. How could you have exchange students if you were continually at war?”
He looked at the Hippolyte quizzically. “What’s all this about I thee wed and the three husbands and all?”
All of the assembled Amazonians joined him in smiling.
The Hippolyte said, “Minythyia dredged that up from the very early years of the new colony, as one of the bits of business to frighten you into hurrying up and concluding our transactions as soon as possible. Actually, of course, we have a pairing arrangement between the sexes. Both marriage and divorce are very simple, but we Amazonians go two-by-two. Any more questions?”
He thought about it and shook his head.
She said, “We have considered what you revealed under Scop and the Myrine and I, as symbol chiefs of state, wish to put ourselves on record as supporting United Planets in that organization’s efforts to promote progress on the member planets. Our opinion, of course, is subject to the approval of the congresses of Paphlagonia and Lybia but I have little doubt but that they will concur.”
Ronny said slowly, “There is more to this matter of the intelligent aliens than I disclosed, however, I’m sure that the Octago
n will be sending you representatives to go into it in detail. It’s not up to me.”
The Hippolyte and Myrine nodded, and the former said, “We can then expect you to rejoin the Schirra and inform your superiors of our stand, and of our desire to remain under our cloak of secrecy? I am afraid your colleague, Citizen Halloday, will have to return by the next spacecraft that comes through. Our physicians are grafting a new lower arm.”
Ronny shrugged. “Right. United Planets doesn’t contend that there is only one road to progress. In fact, it’s most anxious to push experimentation, not only in the sciences and production techniques, but in socioeconomic fields as well.”
EPILOGUE
Rex Ravelle came into the Schirra’s lounge and shook hands energetically.
“I heard you were back, Guy. Congratulations. Three days! How did you ever do it?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Guy Thomas said with an air of self deprecation.
Happy Harrison came in with the coffee the passenger had requested. He took in the conversation, wide-eyed. Oh, Happy was going to be the center of conversation at the crew’s mess tonight.
The second officer said, fascinated, “Listen, did any of them try to grab you for a husband?”
Guy nodded.
“Well, how’d you escape?”
“I had an armed guard.”
Rex Ravelle made a whistling sound. “Had to fight ’em off, eh? Listen, did you see this Hippolyte mopsy?”
Guy Thomas’ voice went confidential. “You’ll never believe this. I didn’t myself, but I was taken to see her in a throne room as big as a football stadium. The pillars were gold and the mosaics were made of jewels. There must have been two thousand armed guards and attendants.”
“All women, hey?” Happy Harrison said, eyes bugging still.
“Of course,” Guy told him. “I was the only man there. They let me know the Hippolyte didn’t like men around, always giggling and chattering.”
Rex shook his head. “The men must be really something.”
Guy said, “You should have met one named Podner Bates.”
Rex Ravelle said, half as though in envy, “Imagine all that happening to a quiet little guy like you.”
Captain Buchwald had come in behind his second officer. He said, “We’ll be underway in half an hour. Tell me, Citizen Thomas, how did Patricia O’Gara make out? I have been somewhat worried about that idealistic young lady.”
“Oh, she loves it there,” Guy said, very sincerely. “The last time I saw her, she was having a run-in with a whole group of men.”
The Captain shook his head ruefully. “I suppose it is the environment. She seemed such a nice girl.” MNQ/2008.03.25 55,200 words Quite simply, this was the worst dead tree typesetting that I’ve ever seen. If there’s any satisfaction at all to be derived from this release it’s that for the first time in at least 40 years, this book has been thoroughly proofread and corrected. Enjoy.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-c9ecce-b9a0-9844-3086-4aed-9f9d-00d91e
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 28.06.2011
Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
Verdi1
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/