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Updated: June 18, 2025
Plekhanov, flanked by Chessman and Watson, strode heavily toward the ship's lounge. Natt Roberts and two of the Tulans remained with the small boat. Two of the other natives followed, their eyes darting here, there, in amazement, in spite of their efforts to appear grim and untouched by it all. Amschel Mayer was already seated at the officer's dining table.
Phlegmatically he let his eyes go to the pyramids, to the temples, the large community dwelling quarters. "We'll call this city Tula and its citizens Tulans." Taller looked thoughtfully at him, not having missed the tone of arrogant command.
Joe Chessman took his heavy gun from its holster and triggered it twice. The roar of the explosions reverberated thunderously in the confined space, deafening all, and terrifying the Tulans. Bright red colored the robes the Khan wore, colored them without beauty. Bright red splattered the floor. Leonid Plekhanov stared at his second in command, wet his thick lips. "Joe," he sputtered.
And these other Texcocans are Wiss and Fokin, both of whom have gone far in the sciences." The Tulans shook hands, Earth style, but then stepped to the rear again where they followed the conversation without comment. Mayer said, "You think it wise to introduce natives to the Pedagogue?" "Of course," Chessman said. "Following this conference, I'm going to take Fokin and Wiss into the library.
Half a dozen teenaged Tulans brought a cool drink similar to cocoa; it seemed to give a slight lift. Taller had not become Khan of the most progressive nation on Texcoco by other than his own abilities. He felt his way carefully now. He had no manner of assessing the powers wielded by these strangers from space.
We ... Tulans are not poor, we have food aplenty, for we Tulans, but we cannot feed all the thousands of prisoners we take in our wars." Joe Chessman said dryly, "As of today there is a new policy. We put them to work." Plekhanov rumbled at him, "I'll explain our position, Chessman, if you please." Then to the Tulans.
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