The Hostage of Zir Read Online Free

protect Novorecife. The pier and the boathouse were soon out of sight.
    The terrain along the south bank flattened out, until there was nought to see between river and sky save a dark-green strip of tall reeds, with a scattering of exotic-looking multicolored trees. Flying creatures on brown, leathery wings rose, squawking and honking and whistling, from the reeds. They circled and flapped away.
    The reeds gave way to low brown bluffs. A sloping green area, littered with large, regular-looking stones, came in sight.
    “That is a ruined city,” said Khorsh, while Reith translated. “Nobody knows who built it or when. It is locally called Saba-o-Astiremá, which means merely ‘place of stones.’ Could these stones speak, who knows what tales they might tell?”
    They neared Qou on the south bank. Reith asked: “Does anyone want to stop here? It’s on our itinerary; but were behind schedule, and you’ve already seen it with Castanhoso.”
    “I want to,” said Shirley Waterford. “I’m going to give that official a piece of my mind, about the slavery and the discrimination against the tailed Krishnans—”
    “Oh, no, you’re not!” said Reith. “We run enough risks without stirring up more alligators. You can look. You can even take pictures if you re discreet. But you’re not to say a word against local customs or beliefs.” He added in Gozashtandou: “Steady as you go, Captain Ozum. We shall not stop.”
    “Squalid little place,” said Considine. “Hardly like one of the cities Dunsany saw along the Yann.”
    Reith said: “So long as you’re wearing that sword, Maurice, how about a little practice in using it?”
    Soon they were cutting and thrusting with the singlesticks. Although he looked twice as muscular as Reith, Considine was the first to admit fatigue.
    “You’ve been touring and taking it easy while I was working out in Heggstad’s gym,” said Reith.
    Considine peeled off his white protective jacket and mopped his streaming forehead. “How about a swim, Fearless? We could easily keep up with the boat.”
    Reith asked Khorsh. The priest threw up his hands. “Nay, my son, broach not such a thought! Know that in these waters dwells a creature called the avval, which could seize and devour you in a trice. And how should we replace so valiant a youth?”
    “That’s right; I remember reading about it.” Reith turned to his party. “They have here a kind of cross between a crocodile and a junior sea serpent, so we’d better not. Professor Mulroy, how would you like to tell us about the local fauna and flora?”
    On his South American tour, Reith had learned that, to keep his charges out of mischief, it was well to arrange some event for them whenever they had a long, inactive period. The elderly paleontologist was soon in full form:
    “. . . you see, vertebrate evolution on Krishna has followed a course in many ways parallel to but also quite distinct from that on earth. Whereas on earth, one group of fishes, the Crossopterygii, made the transition from water to land, on Krishna two groups did it: the Tetrapoda, which have remained oviparous although they include the hominoid species, and the Hexapoda, who early developed viviparity.”
    “Why was that?” asked Mrs. Whitney Scott, who missed little.
    “Probably a result of the fact that on earth, the continents are islands surrounded by a worldwide ocean, whereas on Krishna the seas are lakes surrounded by one worldwide land mass. So the transition from water to land was made twice independently. We have an earthly parallel, in the Periphthalmidae—”
    “The what?” said Considine.
    “A family of semiterrestrial gobies called mud skippers, from Southeast Asia. They have begun the transition to life on land. On the other hand, Krishnan land vertebrates do not show the sharp distinctions among Amphibia, Reptilia, and Mammalia that we are accustomed to. Homoiothermism—warm-bloodedness, I suppose I should say—evolved early in both