Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 75: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

EARTHMAN, It was beyond doubt the longest speech he had ever made in his life. The clay on his forehead was begin- ning to streak with the effort. “You are right,” Amalfi said. “We are from Earth, though we left it long ago. I will tell you something else, Karst. You, too, are of Earth.” “That is not so,” Karst said, re- treating a step. “I was born here, and all my people. None claim Earth blood—” “T understand,’ Amalfi said. ‘““You are of this planet. But you are an Earthman. And I will tell you some- thing else. I do not think the Proctors are Earthmen. I think they lost the right to call themselves Earthmen long ago, on another planet, a planet named Thor V.” Karst wiped his calloused palms against his thighs. “I want to under- stand,” he said. ‘“Teach me.” “Karst!”? the woman said plead- ingly. “It is nothing. Wonders pass. We are late with the planting.” “Teach me,” Karst said doggedly. ‘*All our lives we furrow the fields, and on the holidays they tell us of Earth. Now there is a marvel here, a city raised by the hands of Earthmen, there are Earthmen in it who speak to us—’’ He stopped. He seemed to have something in his throat. ““Go on,” Amalfi said gently. “Teach me. Now that Earth has built a city on the Barrens, the Proc- tors can not hold knowledge for their own any longer. Even when you go, we will learn from your empty city, before it is ruin by wind and rain. Lord Amalfi, if we are Earthmen, teach us as Earthmen are teached.” “Karst,” said the woman, “‘it is not for us. It is a magic of the Proctors. All magics are of the Proctors. They mean to take us from our children. They mean us to die on the Barrens. They tempt us.” COME HOME 73 The serf turned to her. There was something indefinably gentle in the motion of his brutalized, crackle- skinned, thick-muscled body. “You need not go,” he said, in a slurred Interlingua patois which was obviously his usual tongue. “Go on with the plowing, does it please you. But this is no thing of the Proctors. They would not stoop to tempt slaves as mean as we are. We have obeyed the laws, given our tithes, observed the holidays. This is of Earth.” The woman clenched her horny hands under her chin and shivered. “It is forbidden to speak of Earth ex- cept on holidays. But I will finish the plowing. Otherwise our children will die.” “Come, then,’ Amalfi said. ‘“There is much to learn.” To his complete consternation, the serf went down on both knees. A second later, while Amalfi was still wondering what to do next, Karst was up again, and climbing up onto the Barrens toward them. Hazleton offered him a hand, and was nearly hurled like a flat stone through the air when Karst took it; the serf was as solid and strong as a pile driver, and as sure on his stony feet. “Karst, will you return before night?” the woman cried. Karst did not answer. Amalfi began : _ to lead the way back toward the city. Hazleton started down the far side of the rise after them, but something moved him,to look back again at the little scrap of farm. The woman’s head had fallen forward again, the wind stir= ring the tangled curtain of her hair. She was leaning heavily into the gall- ing traces, and the plow was again beginning to cut its way painfully through the stony soil. There was now, of course, nobody to guide it. ‘Boss,’ Hazleton said into the throat-mike, “are you listening?” “I’m listening.” EComichooksnico Al