The pilot went silent.
Slightly embarrassed, Janet went back to the ship. Kim, who had been patiently waiting for them to finish talking, came up to Alex.
“This is for you.”
The thick brown paper packet was small but rather weighty. Alex unwrapped it with that sudden happy feeling that touches anyone receiving an unexpected gift.
Of course, it was the very thing New Ukraine was so proud of—a piece of fresh lard.
“They cut these off the piggies right out there on the pasture,” Kim said. She was bubbling over with new impressions. “But it doesn’t hurt the piggies at all—the skin heals up in a day, and the pig gets more fat, just walking around. Here! Try some—it’s already smoked. When the layer of fat gets to be over a foot and a half, the piggies start secreting special ferments… Isn’t it neat?”
Alex took out his pocketknife and cut off a small piece. Chewed it, then nodded. “Yes, it’s neat. Very tasty. And a green apple aroma, right?”
Kim nodded. Behind her, Morrison’s face was contorted in disgust. “Aroma… you should smell the aroma of those pastures—Good Lord! This lardy mammoth lumbers around the steppe, gorging itself on everything it can find, and shits continuously, excuse the unsavory details!”
“It’s a natural process!” Kim retorted.
“Of course it is. But the aroma is disgusting. Why can’t they grow their meat and lard in containers, as it’s done on any decent planet?”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Kim’s quick temper flared. “The taste would be completely different! Besides, pigs are good for the planet’s ecology. And they’re cheaper to keep. Three shepherd-speshes can manage a huge herd, and there are no other expenses!”
Alex, like Xang, was not at all inclined to see New Ukrainian animal husbandry as an engaging topic for conversation.
“Kim…” He took the girl by the shoulder. “We take off in thirty-nine minutes. I think everyone wants to take a shower and change…”
“So you’re not even a little bit interested in this…” she replied, slightly offended.
“I am. But I’ve already visited the Animal Husbandry Museum.”
“And did they take you to see the main genetic lab?”
“They did.”
“They didn’t let us in. There was some experiment on…”
The three of them entered the ship.
Chapter 5
Heraldica.
One of the strangest human colonies Alex had ever heard of…
The mouth of the hyper-channel was located some six hundred miles away from the planet, orbiting it like an ordinary satellite. There was only one battle station here, though it was rather powerful. The security of the channel was guaranteed by the stationary installations on the planet itself. They were spread out all over the surface—in the arid, hot deserts, atop forbidding mountain ridges, and even on floating oceanic platforms. Their construction must have cost a lot more than the building of a few space citadels would have, but from the point of view of Heraldica’s inhabitants, their solution had been the only option. As the channel made its orbital loops around the planet, control over it was transferred from one battle installation to the next.
Heraldica was a planet of aristocracy. Gathered here were the remnants of the ancient Earth lineages, now dying out, such as the British royal family and the Arabian sheiks. But also the more recent aristocracies—for instance, the New-Russian dynasties, who had amassed their enormous fortunes at the end of the twentieth and the beginning of the twenty-first century by selling off the lands, natural resources, and population of their earthly homeland. Several aristocratic lineages from other colonies—planets that had made a transition to other forms of government—also dwelt here. Rumor had it that there was even an enclave of the Bronins, descendants of the once-ruling nest.
Alex had no intention of landing on the planet, of course.
They were waiting their turn to enter the channel, and everyone—Alex had no doubt about that—was peering down at the planet revolving below. The ship’s optical systems were powerful enough to provide the observers with a richly detailed view.
Alex himself had chosen to watch a small, cozy town in a mountain valley. Its little houses, only five or six stories high, were roofed with carmine-red tiles. Its streets were buried in greenery, and everywhere, fountains ran. Close to the town was a palace—the pilot would not have been surprised to learn that the building had been brought to Heraldica from Earth. There was also a spaceport, but it was so tiny and run-down that there could be no doubt the planet’s aristocrats had lost all interest in space.
Their greatest passion was hunting.
Along a swift mountain brook, a person was running. The optics, even computer enhanced, didn’t let Alex see the person’s face—light clouds above the valley were blocking his view. It was either a youth or a young girl. Pursuing her were three riders dressed in bright, flapping robes, the unmistakable attributes of the ruling class—all petty princelings adored luxury. The animals they straddled could have been anything. But they weren’t horses… unless it had been some geneticists’ prank to have horses equipped with fancy antlers.
The chase didn’t last very long. The pursuers caught up with their prey. Blue sparks flashed… the aristocrats didn’t reject all technology, after all. The three men dismounted and walked over to the motionless body. With a mixture of confusion and revulsion, Alex watched the aristocrats rape their helpless victim. An entourage of about twenty men had caught up with them by then and now stood a little ways off, patiently awaiting their turn.
Finally the hunters got tired of this entertainment. They walked back to the entourage. There was a short discussion, accompanied by some imperious gestures, and then another little figure rushed out running along the river. The hunters bided their time. Some drinks were served, and now it looked like they just stood around talking.
To his mild relief, Alex saw that the victim was still alive. A girl—at least the gender was clear now—got up and, awkwardly shuffling her feet, started to limp back towards the town. No one was pursing her anymore. Quite the opposite—some even waved her on.
“Despicable!” said Janet loudly.
“You mean the hunt?” Alex asked.
“What hunt? No, I’m talking about that yacht party.”
“Aristocracy!” rang out the voice of Morrison. “Blue blood… god damn it. It’s really blue, right?”
“I’ve heard it is,” said Alex, watching the fun begin anew. “Of course, they wouldn’t have switched from hemoglobin iron to copper. That would violate the Imperial laws. They only changed the color… I can’t even imagine how that’s possible… and they haven’t lost their genetic unity with ordinary people. But their blood is blue.”
“No one would have allowed this back in the old Empire,” declared Morrison. “A decent emperor…”
“Heraldica flourished even under the previous emperors,” rejoined Alex. “And the boy now formally on the throne has probably never even heard of this planet.”
“Or maybe he has heard of it,” remarked Janet. “Who knows, he might even admire it. Real kings, dukes, and sheiks. He might be very pleased about that.”
Alex finally switched off the zoom-in optics. He had not the slightest wish to study Heraldica anymore. Sixty-four small dynasties, all-powerful within the borders of their realms. Sixty-four genetic lines that had utterly degenerated.
Absolute power corrupts and depraves, even if it is limited to the space of a single mountain valley, a single little town. Human history had known many a tyranny, but never had the tyrants been free from the threat of revolution. Never, until the moment when servant-speshes first appeared.