The Hostage of Zir Read Online Free Page A

taxa—”
    “How about birds?” asked Shirley Waterford.
    “It is like the snakes of Ireland: there are none. Krishnan life has never developed the feather, so the flying organisms are more comparable to our bats and pterosaurs than to the class Aves. Now, as we ascend the evolutionary scale—”
    “Excuse me, Professor,” said a pudgy brown passenger, one of the several who did not belong to Reith’s party. “You seem to accept the false theory that all these evidences for evolution, on earth and other planets, testify to actual events.”
    “Well?” snapped Mulroy.
    “We servants of the Lords of Light know that truth is different. Divine revelation proves that all those fossil bones and things were put in the ground by the Lords of Darkness—what you would call the Devil—to seduce men away from the truth of God’s creation—”
    “You are, sir—?” said Mulroy.
    “Excuse me; I am Ganesh Kosambi of Bombay, humble representative of Board of Missions of the Church of the Lords of Light—”
    Reith interrupted: “Mr. Kosambi, please let Professor Mulroy finish his lecture. We have plenty of time between here and Majbur. If you want to preach this afternoon, I’m sure we’d be glad to hear you.”
    Kosambi subsided. When afternoon arrived, those not sleeping gathered in the bow to hear the missionary. Kosambi told how his sect was founded by Tallal Homsi, a Syrian whom God had directed to dig up a book in unknown writing on sheets of electrum. God also furnished him with a pair of miraculous spectacles. These enabled Tallal Homsi—before he was martyred by his Muslim fellow villagers—to read and transcribe the contents of the wonderful book. The book explained how God had sent out the Lords of Light, otherwise angels, to all habitable planets, bearing the seeds of living things of all kinds . . .
    Silvester Pride turned away, remarking loudly: “Haw, what a lot of bullshit!”
    Kosambi looked pained but carried on. Reith privately agreed about Kosambi’s theology but would not have hurt the earnest little man’s feelings.

    ###

    Next morning, the Zaidun reached Gadri, larger than Qou but no metropolis. Reith told his people: “There’s not much to see here except the market and one temple. The things for sale are mostly staples and everyday working artifacts—no tourist gimcracks. The people haven’t yet become attuned to tourism, but give ’em time. In any case, I advise you not to load yourselves down with junk this early. You’ll have plenty of chances later.”
    They tramped from the waterfront to the main square, a few blocks away. Every time they stopped to look at something, curious Krishnans gathered around to stare. These temporary crowds grew until Reith felt apprehensive. While the Krishnans seemed good-natured, anything might happen if some trivial mischance touched off a disturbance.
    At the temple, a plainly massive structure of rust-red sandstone, Khorsh, the Duro priest, spoke to the doorkeeper and then told Reith it would be all right to enter. Of course, a free-will offering in the collection box would be appreciated.
    Inside, the gilded statue of the god sat cross-legged on its dais at the far end. The feeble flames of the lamps were reflected from the statue’s gilt and the back wall of polished black onyx. Since the idol had four legs, its pose meant a complicated tangle of limbs. It also bore eight arms.
    “It looks a little like Shiva,” said Kosambi, who had tagged along. Reith was hardened to free-loaders who attached themselves to tour groups.
    “It looks like a centipede to me,” said Pride loudly. “Boy, couldn’t he dance a jig, with all those legs? Like this.” Pride began to demonstrate, hopping grotesquely in his shorts with his potbelly bouncing.
    “Stop it, you damned fool!” hissed Reith.
    “What? Who?” said Pride. “Look here, squirt—”
    “If he doesn’t stop you, I will!” said Mrs. Whitney Scott. The old lady limped forward, gripping