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    Earthsmith
    Earthsmith
    Earthsmith
    Ebook62 pages47 minutes

    Earthsmith

    By Stephen Marlowe

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Stephen Marlowe (born Milton Lesser) was an American author of science fiction, mystery novels, and fictional autobiographies of Christopher Columbus, Miguel de Cervantes, and Edgar Allan Poe. This is one of those stories.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStart Classics
    Release dateApr 11, 2014
    ISBN9781609777722
    Earthsmith
    Author

    Stephen Marlowe

    Stephen Marlowe (1928–2008) was the author of more than fifty novels, including nearly two dozen featuring globe-trotting private eye Chester Drum. Born Milton Lesser, Marlowe was raised in Brooklyn and attended the College of William and Mary. After several years writing science fiction under his given name, he legally adopted his pen name, and began focusing on Chester Drum, the Washington-based detective who first appeared in The Second Longest Night (1955). Although a private detective akin to Raymond Chandler’s characters, Drum was distinguished by his jet-setting lifestyle, which carried him to various exotic locales from Mecca to South America. These espionage-tinged stories won Marlowe acclaim, and he produced more than one a year before ending the series in 1968. After spending the 1970s writing suspense novels like The Summit (1970) and The Cawthorn Journals (1975), Marlowe turned to scholarly historical fiction. He lived much of his life abroad, in Switzerland, Spain, and France, and died in Virginia in 2008. 

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      Book preview

      Earthsmith - Stephen Marlowe

      EARTHSMITH

      By Milton Lesser

      Start Publishing LLC

      Copyright © 2012 by Start Publishing LLC

      All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

      First Start Publishing eBook edition January 2014

      Start Publishing is a registered trademark of Start Publishing LLC

      Manufactured in the United States of America

      10   9   8   7   6   5   4   3   2   1

      ISBN 978-1-60977-772-2

      Someone in the crowd tittered when the big ungainly creature reached the head of the line.

      Name?

      The creature swayed back and forth foolishly, supporting the bulk of his weight first on one extremity and then on the other. His face which had a slight rosy tint anyway got redder.

      Come, come. Planet? Name? The registrar was only a machine, but the registrar could assume an air of feminine petulance. We want to keep the line moving, so if you will please--

      The creature drew a deep breath and let the two words come out in a rush. Earth, Smith, he said. Being nervous, he could not modulate his voice. Unable to modulate his voice, he heard the words come out too deep, too loud.

      Did you hear that voice? demanded the man who had tittered. On a cold wet night they say the karami of Caulo boom like that. And look at Earthsmith. Just look at him. I ask you, what can they accept at the school and still call it a school? Hey you, Earthsmith, what courses will you take?

      I don't know, the creature confessed. That's what I'm here for. I don't even know what they teach at the school.

      He doesn't know. More tittering.

      The registrar took all this in impassively, said: What planet, Earthsmith?

      The creature was still uncomfortable. Earth. Only my name is not Earthsmith. Smith--

      The titterer broke into a loud guffaw. Earthsmith doesn't even know what planet he's from. Good old Earthsmith. He was a small thin man, this titterer, with too-bright eyes, vaguely purple skin, and a well-greased shock of stiff green hair.

      Smith squared his wide shoulders and looked into the colored lights of the registrar. It's a mistake. My name is Smith.

      What planet, Smith?

      Earth. The planet Earth. Smith had a rosy, glistening bald head and a hairless face. A little bead of sweat rolled into his left eye and made him blink. He rubbed his eye.

      Age? The machine had a way of asking questions suddenly, and Smith just stared.

      Tell me your age. Age. How old are you?

      Smith wanted to sit down, only there were no chairs. Just the room with its long line of people behind him, and the machine up front. The registrar.

      I'm twenty-seven.

      Twenty-seven what?

      You asked me my age. I'm twenty-seven years old, and three months.

      Except for the clicking of the machine, there was a silence. The voice of the machine, feminine again, seemed confused when it spoke. I cannot correlate years, Smith of Earth. How old are you?

      It wasn't an ordeal, really, but Smith felt more uncomfortable every moment. Was the machine making fun of him? If it were, then it had an ally in the crowd, because the man who had tittered was laughing again, the green shock of hair on his head bobbing up and down.

      Earthsmith doesn't even know how old he is. Imagine.

      The machine, which was more feminine than not, asked Smith how far the planet Earth was from its primary, and what the orbital speed of the planet was. Smith told her, but again the terminology was not capable of correlation.

      Unclassified as to age, Smith. It's not important. I wonder, are you dominant or receptive?

      I'm a man. Male. Dom--

      "That doesn't matter. Smith, tell me, how long has it been since anyone from the planet Earth has attended the

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