Read Babel-17 for Free Online Page B

hang around the Discor'orate Sector and see what turns u'."
    "If you want a crew by morning, we better start now," said Calli.
    "Let's go," saidRydra.
    As they walked to the ramp's foot, the Customs Officer asked, "The Discorporate Sector?"
    'What about it?'' Rydra was at the rear of the group.
    "That's so—well, I don't like the idea."
    Rydra laughed. "Because of the dead men? They won't hurt you."
    "And I know that's illegal, for bodily persons to be in the Discorporate Sector."
    "In certain parts," Rydra corrected, and the other men laughed now. "We'll stay out of the illegal sections—if we can."
    "Would you like your clothes back?" the check-girl asked.
    People had been stopping to congratulate Brass, pounding at his hip with appreciative fists and snapping their fingers. Now he swung his contour cape over his head. It fell to his shoulders, clasped his neck, draped under his arms and around his thick hams. Brass waved to the crowd and started up the ramp.
    "You can really judge a pilot by watching him wrestle?" the officer inquired of Rydra.
    She nodded. "In the ship, the pilot's nervous system is connected directly with the controls. The whole hyperstasis transit consists of him literally wrestling the stasis shifts. You judge by his reflexes, his ability to control his artificial body. An experienced Transporter can tell exactly how he'll work with hyperstasis currents."
    "I'd heard about it, of course. But this was the first time I've seen it- It was . . . exciting."
    "Yes," Rydra said.
    As they reached the ramp's head, lights again pierced the globe. Ebony and Condor circled in the fighting sphere.
    On the sidewalk Brass dropped back, loping on all fours, to Rydra's side. "What about a Slug and a 'latoon?"
    "I'd like to get a one-trip platoon if I can."
    "Why so green?"
    ''I want to train them my way. The older groups tend to be too set."
    "A one-tri' grou' can be a hell of a 'roblem to disci'line. And inefficient as 'iss, so I've heard. Never been with one myself."
    “As long as there're no out and out nuts, I don't care. Besides, if I want one now, I can be surer of getting one by morning if I put my order in at Navy."
    Brass nodded. "Your request in yet?"
    “I wanted to check with my pilot first and see if you had any preferences."
    They were passing a street phone on the comer lamppost. Rydra ducked beneath the plastic hood. A minute later she was saying, "—a platoon for a run toward Specelli scheduled at dawn tomorrow. I know that it's short notice, but I don't need a particularly seasoned group. Even a one trip will do." She looked from under the hood and winked at them. "Fine. I'll call later to get their psyche-indices for customs approval. Yes, I have an Officer with me. Thank you."
    She came from under the hood. "Closest way to the Discorporate Sector is through there."
    The streets narrowed about them, twisting through one another, deserted. Then a stretch of concrete where metal turrets rose, crossed, and recrossed. Wires webbed them. Pylons of bluish light dropped half shadows.
    "Is this . . .?" the Customs Officer began. Then he was quiet. Walking out, they slowed their steps. Against the darkness red light shot between towers. "What . . . ?"
    "Just a transfer. They go all night," Calli explained. Green lightning crackled to their left. "Transfer?"
    "It's a quick exchange of energies resulting from the relocation of discorporate states," the Navigator-Two volunteered glibly.
    "But I still don't . . ."
    They had moved between the pylons now when a flickering coalesced. Silver latticed with red fires glimmered through industrial smog. Three figures formed: women, sequined skeletons glittered toward them, casting hollow eyes.
    Kittens clawed the Customs Officer's back, for strut work pylons gleamed behind the apparitional bellies.
    "The faces," he whispered. "As soon as you look away, you can't remember what they look like. When you look at them, they look like people, but when you look away—" He