Short Fiction

Tourists to Terra

Diomed of Argos, son of Tydeus, drew his sword with a shout and rushed forward to finish off his Trojan opponent before help could arrive. Suddenly he stopped and threw up a shielding arm before his eyes. When he could see again, one who could only have been Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty stood between him and the unconscious enemy. She was dressed as though for the bridal room, her Goddess body, breathtakingly beautiful, revealed through the transparent robe she wore. She was attired for love, but held a short sword in her hand.

Aphrodite smiled at him in derision. “Now, then, Prince of Argos, would you fight the Gods?” She advanced the sword, half mockingly.

But the Greek was mad with bloodlust, half crazed with his day’s victories; he snatched up his spear, muttering, “Pallas Athene aids me,” and rushed her.

Her eyes widened, fear flashing in them, and she began to rise from the ground. The barbaric spear flashed out and ripped her arm; blood flowed and she dropped the sword, screaming.

Diomed heard a voice call urgently, “Go back! Go back immediately to—” And the Goddess Aphrodite disappeared.

He whirled to face the newcomer and saw another God confronting him. The extent of his action was beginning to be realized but Diomed had gone too far to turn back now; he charged his new opponent, shield held high and sword at the ready. The God lifted his hand, sending forth a bolt of power that brought the Greek to his knees.

Diomed’s eyes were filled with sudden fear and despair. “Phoebus Apollo,” he quavered.

The God was scornful. “Beware, Diomed,” he said. “Do not think to fight with Gods.”

The Greek cowered before him.

Later, in the invisible space ship, hovering five hundred feet above the battle, Cajun faced her, his features impassive and his tone of voice faultless. He was boiling with rage beneath his courtesy.

“I will present your complaint to the Captain, but I would like to remind the Lady Jan that she has been warned repeatedly against appearing in the battle clothed as she is and without greater defenses. It was fortunate I was able to appear as soon as I did. If you’d been injured seriously, I hesitate to say what repercussions would’ve taken place on the home planet.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Injured seriously! Just what do you mean by that? Do you realize this horrible wound will probably take half the night to heal? You saw that barbarian was insane, why didn’t you come to my assistance sooner? You haven’t heard the last of this, you inefficient nincompoop. When we return home I’ll have you stripped of your rank!”

Cajun’s face remained blank. “Yes, your ladyship,” he said. “And, before I go, may I deliver a message from the Lady Marid? She said they await you in the salon.”

She drew a cape about her and without speaking further, swept from the compartment.

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Parasites,” he muttered savagely, and turned to go to his own quarters where he could change from this ridiculous glittering armor, into his own uniform as ship’s officer.

The Lady Jan stormed into the salon where the others had gathered to try the new concoction the steward had named ambrosia. Some of them still wore their costumes, others had changed into the more comfortable dress of their own world.

Her eyes blazed at them. “Who in the name of Makred told that Greek he would conquer anyone he fought today, even a God? The damned barbarian nearly killed me!”

The Lord Daren laughed gently. “It was Marid; she was playing the Goddess Athene. The sport was rather poor with that new bow of hers so she thought she’d inflame one of the Greeks and see just how berserk he would become if he thought he had the protection of a Goddess.”

“He could have killed me!”

“Oh, come, now, Jan, you were barely scratched. Besides, Marid didn’t know this Greek, Diomed, was going to run into you, or that he’d have the fantastic nerve to attack whom he thought one of his Gods.”

She took up a goblet of the new drink, but she wasn’t placated, “I’m of the opinion this stop shouldn’t be made; it’s too dangerous. I’m going to insist Captain Foren blast the city and obliterate both sides of this barbaric conflict.”

The Lady Marid, who was still dressed in her Pallas Athene armor, broke in. “Don’t be so upset, Jan. We’re sorry that brute hurt your arm, but what can you expect on this type of cruise? They guaranteed us thrills, didn’t they? The very dangers we face are what we’re paying so highly for.” She laughed lightly. “Besides, that costume you wear as Aphrodite. Really! I don’t know why you didn’t get worse than a scratch on the arm. These Greeks aren’t exactly civilized—nor exactly cold-blooded, either.”

The other’s face went red and she snatched another of the drinks from a tray. “Nevertheless, I’m going to complain. This war is absolutely too perilous to be part of the tour. And after all the trouble we went to in order to learn their fantastic languages and customs. Why I was under that damned Psycho-Study Impressor for nearly two hours!”

Captain Foren had entered behind her. “I agree with you Lady Jan, and can only apologize. I should’ve realized last week when Lord General Baris, fighting in the battle as the God Ares on the Trojan side, was speared by this same Greek. The company would never hear the end of it, if, on one of these cruises, a passenger was seriously injured.”

The Lord General Baris shrugged. “It was wonderful sport. I killed a score of the beggars that day. I don’t know how that one found a chink in my armor. I’ll take measures against my costumer when we return home.” He grinned wryly. “I doubt if the Emperor would appreciate having one of his generals killed in a primitive war, while on leave.”

“I think I’ll have to take a crack at this Diomed, myself,” Lord Doren said.

The Lady Marid laughed. “If I know you, you’ll do it with a blaster from a hundred feet in the air above him.”

Doren smiled in return. “Of course. Do you think. I’d make a fool of myself by going down into their battle as Baris does? It’s insane. This hand to hand conflict is much too risky.”

The Captain changed the subject. “I’m sure you’ll all appreciate our next stop,” he said. “I plan to visit an even more astounding planet than this. We are to fight the swamp dragons of Venus.”

“From what distance, Captain?” Lord Doren drawled.

The Captain smiled. “Their poisonous breath reaches half a mile, so it will be necessary to use long distance weapons.”

Lord General Baris scowled. “It sounds too easy. I like to fight humanoids; there’s more thrill in killing when your opponent looks like yourself, as do these earthlings.”