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THE GREEN ODYSSEY By PHILIP JOSE FARMER

“These towers intrigue me. How did the Estoryans know how to halt these islands? And if they’ve succeeded with one, why not with the others?”

“I do not know. Perhaps because the towers are huge and costly and don’t move too fast. Perhaps it is not worthwhile to the Estoryans to capture many. As for their knowledge, I think they got it from their ancestors. It was their great-great-great-and-then-some-grandfathers who originally built Estorya in the middle of the plain and protected it from being crushed by these islands by placing these many towers all around their city. But it cost them much wood and time, and perhaps they lost interest after that.”

Miran indicated a castle inked in beside the red spot.

“That castle means that a military or naval fortification has been built there on the island. It is the furtherest eastern garrison of the Estoryans. When we come within sighting distance of it we are supposed to report. Of course, if you wish to avoid it, we may sail to the north or south and swing around it. But then we will have to report to the windbreak master of the city itself, and they are rather hostile to captains who have failed to have their papers checked at the fort of Shimdoog. Even if the craft is such a small and weak one as this. The Estoryans are a suspicious people.”

Yes, thought Green, and I’ll bet that you intend to inflate their distrust with certain information about me.

He rose from the cockpit, and at the same time he heard Amra hail him from her station at the helm.

“Island on the horizon,” she said. “And many glittering white objects placed before it.”

Green refrained from comment. But he had a hard time concealing his excitement, which grew with every turn of the wheels. He paced back and forth, stopping now and then to shade his eyes and look long at the white towers. Finally, as they got so near that he could no longer be mistaken about their size or the details of their peculiar structure, he could contain himself no longer.

He whooped with joy and kissed Amra on the cheek and danced around and around the foredeck while the women stared with embarrassment and concern and the children giggled, all wondering if he’d gone mad.

“Spaceships! Spaceships!” he howled in English. “Dozens of them! It must be an expedition! I’m saved, saved! Spaceships, spaceships!”

CHAPTER 24

THEY WERE A MAGNIFICENT sight, those many cones pointing their skyscraping noses upward and their spreading landing struts sinking into the soft earth! Their white eternum metal gleamed in the sun, dazzling the spectator who happened to catch their radiance full in the eyes. They were glorious, embodying all the vast wisdom and skill of the greatest civilization of the Galaxy.

No wonder, thought Green, that I dance and howl while these people look at me if I’m mad, and Amra, tears in her eyes, shakes her head and says something to herself. What can they know of the meaning of those splendors?

What, indeed?

“Hey,” shouted Green, “Hey! Here I am! An Earthman! Maybe I look like one of these barbarians, with my long hair and bushy beard and dirty skin, but I’m not. I’m Alan Green, an Earthman!”

Of course, they couldn’t have heard him at that distance, even if somebody had been standing beneath the spaceships to hear him. But he howled with sheer exuberance, not worrying about wasting his breath and making himself hoarse.

Finally Amra interrupted him.

“What is the matter, Alan? Have you been bitten by the Green Bird of Happiness, which sometimes flies over these plains? Or has the White Bird of Terror nipped you while you slept last night upon the open deck?”

Green paused and looked steadily at her. Could he tell her the truth, now he was so near salvation? It was not that he was worried about her or the others stopping him from making contact with the expedition. Nothing could stop him now, he was sure of that.

It was just that he hesitated to tell her that he would be leaving her. The idea of hurting her was agony to him.

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curiosity: