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Updated: June 5, 2025
Remember back in the twentieth century when Hitler and his gang announced they were the big potatoes in Germany and men of Einstein's stature fled the country being small potatoes, I suppose." Amschel Mayer said, "We're getting away from the point. Pray go on, my dear Leonid. You say you are forcibly uniting all Texcoco." "We are uniting all Texcoco," Plekhanov corrected with a scowl.
"Whoever compared the most advanced nation to the Aztecs was accurate, except for the fact that they base themselves along a river rather than on a mountain plateau." Plekhanov said, "Similarities to the Egyptians and Sumerians." He looked over his beefy shoulder at the technician who was photographing the areas over which they passed. "How does our geographer progress, Roberts?"
Cogswell chirped, "Now that he's broken the ice, in a couple of hours kids will be scratching their names on our hull." In the morning, two or three hours after dawn, they made their preparations to disembark. Of them all, only Leonid Plekhanov was unarmed. Joe Chessman had a heavy handgun holstered at his waist. The rest of the men carried submachine guns.
She tried to industrialize and had the support of the free nations. But what happened?" Plekhanov leaned forward to take the ball. "Yes! There's your classic example. Compare India and China. China had a planned industrial development. None of this free competition nonsense. In ten years time they had startled the world with their advances. In twenty years "
Plekhanov muttered, "That'll be enough, Barry." But Mayer's eyes had widened. "How did you know?" He whirled on Plekhanov. "You're spying on my efforts, trying to negate my work!" Plekhanov rumbled, "Don't be a fool, Mayer. My team has neither the time nor interest to spy on you." "Then how did you know " Barry Watson said mildly, "I was doing some investigation in the ship's library.
"Very good, indeed," Plekhanov grumbled. "Only a beginning. The breath of competition, of unharnessed enterprise is sweeping Genoa. Feudalism crumbles. Customs, mores and traditions that have held up progress for a century or more are now on their way out." Joe Chessman growled, "Some of the boys tell me you've had a few difficulties with this crumbling feudalism thing.
Amschel Mayer and Leonid Plekhanov were the center of the fracas and right now were at it hot and heavy. Joe Chessman listened with only half interest. He settled into a chair on the opposite side of the lounge and sipped at his coffee. They were going over their old battlefields, assaulting ramparts they'd stormed a thousand times over.
Mayer snapped, "And by that time we'll have hardly more than half our fifty years left to raise the two of them to an industrial technology. Don't be an idiot, Stevens." Stevens flushed his resentment. Plekhanov said slowly, "Besides, I'm not sure that, given the correct method, we cannot raise Texcoco to an industrialized society in approximately the same time it will take to bring Genoa there."
One of the group behind the Khan, clad in gray flowing robes, said to Plekhanov, mild reproof in his voice, "My son, we are the most advanced people on ... Texcoco. We have thought of ourselves as civilized. However, we " Plekhanov rumbled, "I am not your son, old man, and you are far short of civilization. We can't stand here forever.
The other Texcocans stared at his body in shocked horror. All expect Reif. Reif bent down over his father's body for a moment, and then looked up, his lips white, at Plekhanov. "He is dead." Leonid Plekhanov collected himself. "Yes." Reif's cold face was expressionless. He looked at Joe Chessman who stood stolidly to one side, gun still in hand.
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