The Rival Rigelians

Amschel Mayer was beaming at the reception of his scheme. “The point is well taken, my dear Martin, however you’ll recall that our training was deliberately made such that each man spreads over several fields. This in case, during our half century without contact with Earth, one or more of us meets with accident. Besides, the Pedagogue’s library is such that any literate can soon become effective in any field to the extent needed on the Rigel planets.”

Barry Watson met Natalie Wieliczka in a narrow corridor of the Pedagogue. He darted a look up and down the hallway, then held out his arms.

“Ho, Polack,” he said huskily. “Come here.”

She was apprehensive, but she came into his embrace and offered her mouth for his kiss.

She said, “Somebody might see us.” After he had kissed her again, she said, “Barry, this is terrible. All this hiding, this pretending.”

He grinned down into her open face. “Kind of fun, though,” he said. “How lucky can a cloddy get?”

She said, “It’s not fair. Everybody else is conforming to the command…”

“You sure?” he demanded, running his right hand up through her honey brown hair, cut short as befitted shipboard life. She was not an overly pretty girl, by most standards, but she had a gentle, serious sweetness that affected most men, though unbeknownst to herself.

She frowned slightly, even as she suffered his caresses. “How do you mean?”

“I suspect,” he said wryly, “that these few kisses and hugs we allow ourselves at odd moments aren’t nearly as serious as what your pal Isobel is dispensing to just about everybody in the team. Well, everybody but Mayer and myself.”

She looked at him from the side of her eyes and said, “Are you sure you can honestly eliminate yourself?”

He squeezed her. “Absolutely.”

She sighed, still in his arms. “However, I’ll be glad when we reach Genoa, and this restriction will be off.”

“Genoa?” He pushed her back to arm length and scowled down into her face.

“Why, yes, when we land and take up our work. Certainly, Amschel Mayer can have no objection then to our openly becoming married. I…I wonder what ceremony they have. You know, when I was a student, sometimes thinking of marriage, I…”

“Genoa! But we’re going to Texcoco.”

Her eyes widened and there was quick apprehension in them.

“But Barry. I’m going to Genoa, with Mayer’s team. I…why, I automatically thought you were as well. Everybody had a free choice. Surely, you couldn’t have chosen Plekhanov’s theories. Why…

He took his hands from her completely, and tugged at his right ear in irritated distress.

“I was kind of pressured. I’m an authority on early military history. Leonid Plekhanov was of the opinion that I’d be more useful on Texcoco.”

“Barry!” her voice was distressed now. “You could change. You could tell them you’d rather work on Genoa.”

“Giving what excuse at this late date? The real one? The fact that you and I have broken ship’s regulations and fallen in love?”

She looked at him in misery.

“Besides,” he said angrily, “who’d change positions with me? Genoa is the preferred planet. It’s more advanced. The life’ll be easier. It’d be easier for you to change. Isobel’s scheduled for Texcoco, but I have a sneaking suspicion that in spite of her supposed attraction to Plekhanov, she’d jump at the chance to switch to the Genoa team.”

Her eyes dropped and she shook her head, and then shook it again, more strongly. “I couldn’t, Barry, I couldn’t work with that man. I’m afraid of him. All my intuition tells me that horrible things are going to happen on Texcoco, when Plekhanov and Joe Chessman land there with all the weapon resources of the Pedagogue behind them.”

He said, bitterly, “Why not add me to the list? I’m the military expert. True enough, through books. I’ve never seen combat in my life. But who has, in this age? I’ve got the book knowledge but not the…practical experience.”

She turned away from him, saying lowly, “You’ll learn, Barry. You’ll learn. And…I guess I’m just as glad I won’t be seeing you doing the learning. I’m a doctor, Barry. I didn’t go into my trade in anticipation of practicing on bodies broken in warfare.”

He was exasperated, but she turned and moved slowly away in the direction she had been going when they met, her head down.

III

Joe Chessman was at the controls of the space lighter. At his side sat Leonid Plekhanov and behind them the other seven members of their team, including Isobel Sanchez. They had circled Texcoco twice at great altitude, four times at a lesser one. Now they were low enough to spot a few man-made works.

“Nomadic,” Plekhanov muttered. “Nomadic and village cultures.”

“A few dozen urbanized cultures,” Chessman said. “Whoever first compared the most advanced nation to the Aztecs was accurate, except for the fact that they base themselves along a river rather than on a mountain plateau.”