The Moon Moth and Other Stories Read Online Free

no small distance away; the operator lofted the ship rather abruptly over Basalt Mountain, then slid on a long slant into the northeast. Pi Sagittarius rolled up into the sky like a melon, and the grays, greens, reds, purples of the Kokod countryside shone up from below, rich as Circassian tapestry.
    “We are near the Eastern Shield,” the attendant announced in a mellifluous baritone. “The tumble is a trifle to the right, beside that bold face of granite whence it derives its name. If you look closely you will observe the Eastern Shield armies already on the march.”
    Bending forward studiously, Magnus Ridolph noticed a brown and yellow column winding across the mountainside. To their rear he saw first the tall stele, rising two hundred feet, spraying over at the top into a fountain of pink, black and light green foliage; then below, the conical tumble.
    The car sank slowly, drifted over a wooded patch of broken ground, halted ten feet above a smooth green meadow.
    “This is the Muscadine,” announced the guide. “At the far end you can see Muscadine Tumble and Stele, currently warring against Opal Grotto, odds 9 to 7 both ways…If you will observe along the line of bamboo trees you will see the green caps of the Ivory Dune warriors. We can only guess their strategy, but they seem to be preparing a rather intricate offensive pattern—”
    A woman’s voice said peevishly, “Can’t you take the car up higher so we can see everything?”
    “Certainly, if you wish, Mrs. Chaim.”
    Five hundred feet above, copter blades slashed the air; the car wafted up like thistledown.
    The guide continued, “The Eastern Shield warriors can be seen coming over the hill…It seems as if they surmise the Ivory Dune strategy and will attempt to attack the flank…There!” His voice rose animatedly. “By the bronze tree! The scouts have made a brush…Eastern Shield lures the Ivory Dune scouts into ambush…They’re gone. Apparently today’s code is 4, or possibly 36, allowing all weapons to be used freely, without restriction.”
    An old man with a nose like a raspberry said, “Put us down, driver. From up here we might as well be back at the inn.”
    “Certainly, Mr. Pilby.”
    The car sank low. Mrs. Chaim sniffed and glared.
    The meadow rose from below; the car grounded gently on glossy dark green creepers. The guide said, “Anyone who wishes may go further on foot. For safety’s sake, do not approach the battle more closely than three hundred feet; in any event the inn assumes no responsibility of any sort whatever.”
    “Hurry,” said Mr. Pilby sharply. “The onslaught will be over before we’re in place.”
    The guide good-naturedly shook his head. “They’re still sparring for position, Mr. Pilby. They’ll be dodging and feinting half an hour yet; that’s the basis of their strategy—neither side wants to fight until they’re assured of the best possible advantage.” He opened the door. With Pilby in the lead, several dozen of the spectators stepped down on Muscadine Meadow, among them Magnus Ridolph, Mrs. Chaim and her peacock-shaped friend whom she addressed as “Mrs. Borgage”.
    “Careful, ladies and gentlemen,” called the guide, “Not too close to the battle.”
    “I’ve got my money on Eastern Shield,” said Mrs. Borgage with heavy archness. “I’m going to make sure there’s no funny business.”
    Magnus Ridolph inspected the scene of battle. “I’m afraid you are doomed to disappointment, Mrs. Borgage. In my opinion, Ivory Dune has selected the stronger position; if they hold on their right flank, give a trifle at the center, and catch the Eastern Shield forces on two sides when they close in, there should be small doubt as to the outcome of today’s encounter.”
    “It must be wonderful to be so penetrating,” said Mrs. Borgage in a sarcastic undertone to Mrs. Chaim.
    Mr. Pilby said, “I don’t think you see the battleground in its entire perspective, sir. The Eastern Shield merely