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Munafa ebook

Munafa ebook

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Words: 35473 in 12 pages

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The FOOL

Illustrated by WESTON

Duncan? No, he wasn't the Agent just before you. He was here in 2180--oh, a good thirty years back, Earth-time. The natives say hundreds of years, but they're a short-lived lot. The way they cut each other's throats, it's a wonder any of them live out the life span they've got, anyway.

I came out when Duncan did--knew him pretty well, as well as anybody could. A perfect fool. Knowing him was a real education. Do anything the other way from the way Duncan did it, and you'd be all right.

You wouldn't think it to look at him. Well set-up man, around thirty when he got here, intelligent face, good talker, had a degree--but a fool. Seemed as if he couldn't do anything right. He told me once that he'd been married, and that it had broken up. He more or less implied that his wife had gotten sick of little things--broken dishes, tactless remarks, carelessness. You wouldn't think that would be enough to break up a marriage, but you've got no idea how that sort of thing can add up.

I was clerking for him then. I swear I did all the work. I had to. He couldn't add, couldn't file a record, and couldn't have found one if he'd managed somehow to put it away. I took Agent's inventories, I did most of the trading with the native chiefs, I did everything. Duncan just bumbled around the post, or listened to records, or wrote those silly, hopeless, letters to his ex-wife. He was trying to get her to come back to him. How do I know? Well, who do you think worked the subspace transmitter, as well as doing everything else?

The native thing really annoyed me, though, because it was dangerous. You know the Tarchiki. They look human enough, except for minor details. When it comes to a Tarchik female I'll overlook the green skin and the pointed ears every time. But they aren't entirely like us. They have a liking for war and torture that's really sickening.

Our ancestors? Oh, now, really ... you're talking just like Duncan. That was always his apology for them. He said our own ancestors were pretty bad, too. Certainly they were, but I can't see any ancestor of mine acting the way a Tarchik does with a captured enemy. And they haven't the slightest sense of sportsmanship, either. They'd rather jump you from ambush than fight in the open, and they won't fight at all if the enemy's stronger than they are. That's why they've never made any serious attempt to do in all the Earthmen on their world. That, and greed; they get very good deals from us, and they know it.

Anyway, I'm sure none of my ancestors ever acted like that.

But Duncan was always ready to forgive a Tarchik anything. That used to upset the hell out of them, too, because they expect to be punished when they're caught at anything. They don't understand our reluctance to kill, but they respect a Patrolman's shock gun, and when they get caught stealing or taking each other's tails they know they're going to get a few months in quod, or what they hate much worse, a public flogging. If they didn't get punished, they'd assume it was weakness on our part. Just like kids.

Anyway, there was Duncan, holding long confabs with the Tarchiki, trying to teach them some sort of elementary ethics. Naturally, it didn't take at all. They listened, because they love long speeches, but they never acted on what he said.


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