that would happen again! Kennard said I
had the freedom of the city, and his father invited me to come again—”
“I heard you perfectly well,” his father cut in, “but you’ve had your orders, Larry, and I don’t intend to discuss it any further. You are not to leave the Terran Zone again— at any time. No”— he raised his hand as Larry began to protest—“not another word, not one. Go and wash your face and put something on those cuts and get to bed. Get going!”
Larry opened his mouth and, slowly, shut it again. It wasn’t the slightest use; his father wasn’t listening tohim. Fuming, outraged, he stalked toward his room.
It wasn’t like Dad to treat him this way—like a little kid to be ordered around! Usually, Dad wasreasonable. While he washed his bruised face and painted his skinned knuckles with antiseptic, hestormed silently inside. Dad couldn’t mean it—not now, not after the trouble he’d had getting accepted!
Finally he decided to let it ride until morning. Dad had been worried about him; maybe when he’d had achance to think it over, he’d listen to reason. Larry went to bed, still thinking over, with excitement, thenew friend he’d made and the opportunity this opened up—the chance to see the real Darkover, not theworld of the spaceport and the tourists but the strange, highly colored world that lay alien and beautifulbeyond them.
Dad would have to see it his way!
But he didn’t. When Larry tackled him again, over the breakfast table, Montray’s face was dark andforbidding, and would have intimidated anyone less determined than Larry.
“I said I didn’t even want to discuss it. You’ve had your orders, and that’s all there is to it.”
Larry bit his lip, scowling furiously into his plate. Finally, flaming with indignation, he raised his head andstared defiantly at his father. “I’m not taking that, sir.”
Montray frowned again. “What did you say?” Larry felt a queer, uneasy sensation under his belt. He hadnever openly defied his father since he was a toddler of four or five. But he persisted:
“Dad, I don’t want to be disrespectful, but you can’t treat me that way. I’m not a kid, and when you say
something like that, I have a right, at least, to an explanation.”
“You’ll do as you’re told, or else you’ll—” Montray checked himself. At last he laid down his fork and leaned forward, his chin on his hands, his eyes angry. But all he said was, “Fair enough, then. Here’s the story. Suppose, last night, you’d been badly hurt, or killed?”
“But I—”
Page 25
“Let me finish. One silly kid goes exploring, and it could create an interplanetary incident. If you’d gotten into real trouble, Larry, we would have had to use all the power and prestige of the Terran Empire just to get you out of it again. If we had to do that—especially if we had to use force and Terran weapons—we’d lose all the good will and tolerance that it’s taken us years to build up. It would all have to be done over again. Sure, if it came to a fight, we’d win. But we want to avoid incidents, not win fights which cost us more than we gain by winning them. Do you honestly think it’s worth it?” Larry hesitated. “Well, do you?”
“I suppose not, when you put it that way,” Larry said slowly. Mentally he was comparing this with what Kennard had said: how the Darkovans resented the use of the whole power of Terra, just to “pry into” what should be a private quarrel between one troublemaker and the people he had offended. It would also mean that if Larry had been harmed, the Terrans would have held all of Darkover responsible, not just the few young toughs who had actually committed the incident.
He was trying to think how he could explain this to his father, but Montray left him no time. “That’s thesituation. No more exploring on your own. And no arguments, if you don’t mind; I don’t intend to discussit any
had the freedom of the city, and his father invited me to come again—”
“I heard you perfectly well,” his father cut in, “but you’ve had your orders, Larry, and I don’t intend to discuss it any further. You are not to leave the Terran Zone again— at any time. No”— he raised his hand as Larry began to protest—“not another word, not one. Go and wash your face and put something on those cuts and get to bed. Get going!”
Larry opened his mouth and, slowly, shut it again. It wasn’t the slightest use; his father wasn’t listening tohim. Fuming, outraged, he stalked toward his room.
It wasn’t like Dad to treat him this way—like a little kid to be ordered around! Usually, Dad wasreasonable. While he washed his bruised face and painted his skinned knuckles with antiseptic, hestormed silently inside. Dad couldn’t mean it—not now, not after the trouble he’d had getting accepted!
Finally he decided to let it ride until morning. Dad had been worried about him; maybe when he’d had achance to think it over, he’d listen to reason. Larry went to bed, still thinking over, with excitement, thenew friend he’d made and the opportunity this opened up—the chance to see the real Darkover, not theworld of the spaceport and the tourists but the strange, highly colored world that lay alien and beautifulbeyond them.
Dad would have to see it his way!
But he didn’t. When Larry tackled him again, over the breakfast table, Montray’s face was dark andforbidding, and would have intimidated anyone less determined than Larry.
“I said I didn’t even want to discuss it. You’ve had your orders, and that’s all there is to it.”
Larry bit his lip, scowling furiously into his plate. Finally, flaming with indignation, he raised his head andstared defiantly at his father. “I’m not taking that, sir.”
Montray frowned again. “What did you say?” Larry felt a queer, uneasy sensation under his belt. He hadnever openly defied his father since he was a toddler of four or five. But he persisted:
“Dad, I don’t want to be disrespectful, but you can’t treat me that way. I’m not a kid, and when you say
something like that, I have a right, at least, to an explanation.”
“You’ll do as you’re told, or else you’ll—” Montray checked himself. At last he laid down his fork and leaned forward, his chin on his hands, his eyes angry. But all he said was, “Fair enough, then. Here’s the story. Suppose, last night, you’d been badly hurt, or killed?”
“But I—”
Page 25
“Let me finish. One silly kid goes exploring, and it could create an interplanetary incident. If you’d gotten into real trouble, Larry, we would have had to use all the power and prestige of the Terran Empire just to get you out of it again. If we had to do that—especially if we had to use force and Terran weapons—we’d lose all the good will and tolerance that it’s taken us years to build up. It would all have to be done over again. Sure, if it came to a fight, we’d win. But we want to avoid incidents, not win fights which cost us more than we gain by winning them. Do you honestly think it’s worth it?” Larry hesitated. “Well, do you?”
“I suppose not, when you put it that way,” Larry said slowly. Mentally he was comparing this with what Kennard had said: how the Darkovans resented the use of the whole power of Terra, just to “pry into” what should be a private quarrel between one troublemaker and the people he had offended. It would also mean that if Larry had been harmed, the Terrans would have held all of Darkover responsible, not just the few young toughs who had actually committed the incident.
He was trying to think how he could explain this to his father, but Montray left him no time. “That’s thesituation. No more exploring on your own. And no arguments, if you don’t mind; I don’t intend to discussit any
Similar Books
