On her, a smile was something. She was a very blonde, in the Scandinavian tradition. No, in the Finnish tradition, which is the blondest of the Scandinavians. Her hair was impossibly fine and light yellow almost to the point of being white. Her eyes were so blue as to be startling. Her features reminded Ronny Bronston of an actress of yesteryear that he had seen several times in historical movie films—Jean Simmons. Her lips were implausibly red, but, very obviously, not due to cosmetics.
She was dressed in a gorgeous brilliantly-white blouse and a kilt that resembled those of Crete in the days of Knossos and King Minos. Her slippers were in the Etruscan revival style, which Ronny had last seen on the planet Shangri-La. Her figure was the unfulfilled dream of a Tri-Di director of sex shows.
“Holy smokes,” Ronny said under his breath as they approached her.
“Indeed, yes,” Dorn murmured back. “I find that I’m not nearly as old as I thought I was.”
She spoke to them brightly and her voice, though perhaps a trifle sultry, matched her physical appearance. It reached down inside you and grabbed. She said, “I am Rosemary. Welcome to Einstein. You are, of course, the celebrated Doctor Dorn M. Horsten and… ” she smiled at Ronny in a blaze “… Ronald Bronston.”
Ronny said, in mock protest, even as they shook hands, Earth fashion, “I’m celebrated too. Sometimes with fireworks.”
“Yes,” she said, still smiling. “So we are aware. I should have said, the notorious Ronny Bronston.”
Oh, oh. He had been trying to jest. But, on the face of it, the powers that be on Einstein knew he was the trouble shooter extraordinary of Section G. That wasn’t so good. But at least he knew that they knew.
Rosemary said, “I am your guide. I am completely at your service.”
Dorn said gallantly, “Do your authorities always send such charming guides?”
She smiled at him, and there was a pixie quality there that seemed out of place in her classical beauty. “As a biologist, Doctor Horsten, you will be interested in knowing that on Einstein we breed for physical attributes as well as mental ones.”
So, Ronny thought inwardly, she is perfectly aware of how exceptionally attractive she is. He was to find out later that she wasn’t; only average for Einstein.
He said, “We weren’t expected?”
She made motions for the spacemen to place the luggage in the hover car. They had been staring at her as though hypnotized. The look in their eyes was such as to be almost an unsult. Only a spark would be needed for them to throw her to the tarmac and attempt rape. They sighed resignation and male frustration and did their duty and left.
She politely gestured to seats in the vehicle as she said, “Oh yes, of course. We received the space cable from the Octagon that you were to arrive. Why in the name of the Holy Ultimate do they call it a space cable? On the face of it, cables are not exactly practical in interplanetary communications.”
“A left over expression from the past,” Dorn Horsten said mildly. “But aren’t there any of your officials… ” He let the sentence dribble away.
“We don’t have officials on Einstein,” she said, activating the car.
Ronny closed his eyes in pain at that one.
She said, heading at a good clip for the nearest area of the golf course, “Would you prefer speaking in Basic rather than Amer-English?”
“Either will do, my dear,” Dorn Horsten told her. “See here, how do you mean there are no officials? We came to initiate negotiations in view of your request to join United Planets. With whom do we deal?”
“A committee has been elected to meet you personally, Doctor Horsten.”
Ronny said, “Wizard. Uh, where’s the committee and how do you mean personally? How else could they meet us?”
She tinkled a laugh that all but had the Section G agents swooning. “We very seldom conduct affairs personally, Citizen Bronston. The time involved in journeying about for such reasons is ridiculous. We perform business and even most of our personal relationships by Tri-Di phone screen. Certainly this applies on such advanced planets as Earth, and, say, Phrygia and Avalon.”
“Phrygia we no longer have with us,” Ronny told her. “But yes, a good deal of business is transacted by TV phone these days. Why travel half way around the world to make a short-time contact?”
“Certainly,” she said winningly. “But the committee is to meet you in person tomorrow. They will journey from their respective homes.”
Ronny assimilated that. He said, not knowing exactly why, “All right. But why were you—I have no objections, of course—chosen to meet us?”
“Because I’m stupid,” she said brightly, flashing an equally bright smile at him.
They had reached the edge of the pavement and were darting over the fabulous lawn and rolling grounds of the area that surrounded it. Suddenly they were confronted by an entry into a hillside that formerly hadn’t been visible. She entered without slowing and sighed and flicked off a switch.
“I dislike driving manually,” she said.
They were in an underground highway. There wasn’t a great deal of other traffic. The other vehicles they did see were sometimes occupied, more often not. It wasn’t as different as all that. Ronny and Dorn had been on other worlds, including Earth, that had highly automated underground highways. However, none of them were superior to this.
Ronny said carefully, “How do you mean, stupid? You’re unhappy about taking the assignment?”
She looked at him in distress. “Oh, no, no. I applied for it. It’s quite the most fascinating, uh, job, I’ve ever been able to land. I meant it literally. I’m stupid.”
Horsten caught on first. The big doctor said, “You mean… you were chosen to communicate with us because you have a, forgive me, low intelligence?”
“Yes,” she said. “Now in a few minutes we’ll arrive at the quarters where you are to stay.”
She looked at Doctor Horsten. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not an idiot. I’m just slow. As you said, forgive me, but they thought communication would be easier.”
It was Dorn Horsten this time who closed his eyes in sorrow. In his time… well… in his time he had been accepted… well… in his time…
They emerged from the underground highway and again were in what seemed to be an overgrown park.
Rosemary took over the controls and said, “Why does everybody want to be smart?”
Ronny looked at her. “I don’t know. Why?”
“It wasn’t a rhetorical question. I meant it. I can see in primitive times, when it was a matter of survival and so forth, that a person had to be either smarter than the next, or stronger. But who cares about those things now? Look at Doctor Horsten. He’s big and, I assume, strong. But who cares if anybody is big or small any more? These are no longer the days of the Vikings. Why should anybody wish to be any larger than, say, a Japanese?”
“Damned if I know,” Dorn Horsten muttered. “Often, it’s a disadvantage. Half the beds that I try to get into in hotels are too small for me.”
The vehicle rounded a hill and suddenly there was an entry. It was artfully framed in bougainvillaea of two different colors. It should have looked garish, but didn’t. It was gorgeous. The entry was only a few meters deep and they emerged into a patio, open to the sky, graced by a fountain in its center.
“Here we are,” Rosemary said cheerfully.
The two visitors looked up and about. There were various doors and windows built into what they had taken from outside to be a hill covered with grass, bushes and small trees.
“It’s an underground house!” Ronny blurted.
“Yes, of course,” she said, beginning to leave the vehicle.
Ronny sat there for a moment. He said, “Back there at the spaceport. All of the administration buildings, freight depots, that sort of thing, were also underground?”