The City of the Sun Read Online Free

ridges.
    There were seven riders in all—six archers and the leader. The six reined in about fifty feet away, jostling for position slightly in the narrow lane. There was only room for two abreast, and they didn’t spread out to trample the green corn in the fields to either side. The leader came on alone, the whites of his eyes seeming strangely prominent in the black-capped, brown-skinned face. Two branches extended from the skullcap down between his eyes to run from either side of his prominent nose out into the cheeks, where they subdivided into tiny ramified webs. Thicker lines ran along his brow ridges, substituting for eyebrows. He seemed to have no bodily hair at all. When I glanced at the naked archers to seek confirmation of this impression I couldn’t see the slightest trace of pubic hair. But the distance was considerable, and I didn’t come to any immediate conclusion.
    The dark man’s stare seemed distinctly hostile. I let my hands move away from my sides, and I held the palms open to emphasize their emptiness. Nathan did the same, rather more obtrusively.
    As the dark man reined in his mount, he asked: “Do you understand me?” His English was slightly accented but otherwise quite clear. What surprised me, though, was the note of his voice. It was very high-pitched. I thought for one moment that I had jumped too soon to the conclusion that he was male.
    There was nothing positive, now I came to look more closely, to identify either sex.
    “I understand you,” said Nathan, in reply to his/her question.
    “You are from Earth.” It was a statement rather than a question.
    “Yes, we are,” said Nathan, slightly surprised.
    “A bright meteor passed across the sky yesterday,” stated the high-pitched voice. “Visible even in daylight. It was your starship.”
    “Yes,” said Nathan.
    The man/woman kept the conversational initiative with consummate ease—Nathan never got a chance to develop his sophisticated and much-practiced opening patter. “You must not come to the city today,” he/she said. “The Self must be made aware of your coming. You must wait. How far away is your ship?”
    “A few miles,” said Nathan, “but....”
    Buts, however, were not to be allowed. The high-pitched voice cut in quickly: “You must return. If you do not, you will be killed.”
    That seemed to me to be pretty straight talking. There wasn’t a lot of room for negotiation in the statement.
    “We must tell you why we have come,” said Nathan, quickly. He copied the other’s mode of speech easily. When in Rome....
    It seemed that Arcadians didn’t go in a lot for small talk.
    “Tell me now,” commanded the man/woman on the beast.
    “We have come to help you,” said Nathan, compressing his message somewhat. “We set out from Earth three years ago to visit a series of colonies, to find out about their problems and their progress. Yours is the fourth we have visited. Our expertise and the resources of our ship are at your disposal, and any assistance we can offer in overcoming any difficulties you have encountered will be willingly given. My name is Nathan Parrick, and this is Alexis Alexander, our chief biologist. He is a specialist in ecological management. Do you understand all this?”
    The other leaned forward slightly as his/her mount dropped its cumbersome head. As the mane parted slightly around the creature’s neck I saw traces of black beneath the russet fur. Another black web...just like the one that our interrogator wore. If “wore” was the right word.
    Nathan’s diplomatic routine suddenly struck me as being slightly stupid. A pleasant, polite rigmarole full of happy assurances and formal greetings. The one question he was really burning to ask he put firmly to one side in the name of protocol.
    Excuse me, sir or madam, but why have you got that funny black stuff growing all over you?
    To which the obvious answer had to be: Strange you should ask...I’m desperately curious as to why you