Read No World of Their Own for Free Online Page B

fortune’s made. Stay away from Lady Halin. Her husband’s jealous and you’d end up as a mind-blanked slave unless I wanted to make an issue of it. You needn’t act too impressed by what you see. A lot of the younger intellectuals, especially, make rather a game of deriding modern society, and would be construed as dangerous. Otherwise, just go ahead and have a good time.”
    The first impression Langley got was of sheer enormousness. The room must be half a mile in diameter, and it was a swirling blaze of flashing color, some thousands of guests perhaps. It seemed roofless, open to a soft night sky full of stars and the moon. However, he decided there must be an invisible dome on it. Under its dizzy height, the city was a lovely, glowing spectacle.
    There was perfume in the air, just a hint of sweetness, and music came from some hidden source. Langley tried to listen, but there were too many voices.
    Chanthavar was introducing them to their host, who was unbelievably fat and purple but not without a certain strength in his small black eyes. Langley recalled the proper formulas by which a client of one Minister addressed and genuflected to another.
    â€œMan from past, eh?” Yulien cleared his throat. “Int’restin’. Most int’restin’. Have to have long talk with you sometime. Hrumph! How d’y’ like it here?”
    â€œIt is most impressive, my lord,” said Matsumoto, poker-faced.
    â€œH’m. Ha. Yes. Progress. Change.”
    â€œThe more things change, my lord,” ventured Langley, “the more they remain the same.”
    A rather good-looking woman with somewhat protuberant eyes grasped his arm and told him how exciting it was to see a man from the past and she was sure it had been such an interesting epoch back when they were so virile. Langley felt relieved when a sharp-faced oldster called her to him and she left in a pout. Clearly, women had a subservient position in the Technate, though Chanthavar had mentioned something about occasional great female leaders.
    He slouched moodily toward a buffet, where he helped himself to some very tasty dishes and more wine. How long would the farce go on, anyway? He’d rather have been off somewhere by himself.
    A flabby person who had had a bit too much to drink threw an arm around his neck and bade him welcome and started asking him about the bedroom techniques of his period. It would have been a considerable relief to—Langley unclenched his fists.
    â€œWant some girls? Min’ster Yulien most hospitable, come right this way, have li’l fun ’fore the Centaurians blow us all to dust.”
    â€œThat’s right,” jeered a younger man. “That’s why we’re going to have the hide beaten off us. People like you. Could they fight in your time, Captain Langley?”
    â€œTolerable well, when we had to,” said the American.
    â€œThat’s what I thought. Survivor types. You conquered the stars because you weren’t afraid to kick the next man. We are. We’ve gotten soft, here in the Solar System, Haven’t fought a major war in a thousand years, and now that one’s shaping up we don’t know how.”
    â€œAre you in the army?” asked Langley.
    â€œI?” The young fellow looked surprised. “The Solar military forces are slaves. Bred and trained for the job, publicly owned. The higher officers are Ministers, but—”
    â€œWell, would you advocate drafting your own class into service?”
    â€œWouldn’t do any good. They aren’t fit. Not in a class with the slave specialists. The Centaurians, though, they call up their free-born, and they like fighting. If we could learn that too—”
    â€œSon,” asked Langley recklessly, “have you ever seen men with their heads blown open, guts coming out, ribs sticking through the skin? Ever faced a man who intended to kill you?”.
    â€œNo … no, of