He had last seen Billibotton when he was not much more than twelve, but even the people seemed to be the same; still a mixture of the hangdog and the irreverent; filled with a synthetic4 pride and a grumbling5 resentment6; the men marked by their dark rich mustaches and the women by their sacklike dresses that now looked tremendously slatternly to Raych's older and more worldly wise eyes.
How could women with dresses like that attract men? -But it was a foolish question. Even when he was twelve, he had had a pretty clear idea of how easily and quickly they could be removed.
So he stood there, lost in thought and memory, passing along a street of store windows and trying to convince himself that he remembered this particular place or that and wondering if, among them all, there were people he did remember who were now eight years older. Those, perhaps, who had been his boyhood friends-and he thought uneasily of the fact that, while he remembered some of the nicknames they had pinned on each other, he could not remember any real names.
In fact, the gaps in his memory were enormous. It was not that eight years was such a long time, but it was two fifths of the lifetime of a twenty-year-old and his life since leaving Billibotton had been so different that all before it had faded like a misty7 dream.
But the smells were there. He stopped outside a bakery, low and dingy9, and smelled the coconut10 icing that reeked11 through the air-that he had never quite smelled elsewhere. Even when he had stopped to buy tarts12 with coconut icing, even when they were advertised as "Dahl-style," they had been faint imitations-no more.
He felt strongly tempted13. Well, why not? He had the credits and Dors was not there to wrinkle her nose and wonder aloud how clean-or, more likely, not clean-the place might be. Who worried about clean in the old days?
The shop was dim and it took a while for Raych's eyes to acclimate14. There were a few low tables in the place, with a couple of rather insubstantial chairs at each, undoubtedly15 where people might have a light repast, the equivalent of moka and tarts. A young man sat at one of the tables, an empty cup before him, wearing a once-white T-shirt that probably would have looked even dirtier in a better light.
The baker8 or, in any case, a server stepped out from a room in the rear and said in a rather surly fashion, "What'll ya have?"
"A coke-icer," said Raych in just as surly a fashion (he would not be a Billibottoner if he displayed courtesy), using the slang term he remembered well from the old days.
The term was still current, for the server handed him the correct item, using his bare fingers. The boy, Raych, would have taken that for granted, but now the man, Raych, felt taken slightly aback.
"You want a bag?"
"No," said Raych, "I'll eat it here." He paid the server and took the coke-icer from the other's hand and bit into its richness, his eyes half closing as he did so. It had been a rare treat in his boyhood-sometimes when he had scrounged the necessary credit to buy one with, sometimes when he had received a bite from a temporarily wealthy friend, most often when he had lifted one when nobody was watching. Now he could buy as many as he wished.
"Hey," said a voice.
Raych opened his eyes. It was the man at the table, scowling16 at him.
Raych said gently, "Are you speaking to me, bub?"
"Yeah. What'chuh Join'?"
"Eatin' a coke-icer. What's it to ya?" Automatically he had assumed the Billibotton way of talking. It was no strain at all.
"What'chuh doin' in Billibotton?"
"Born here. Raised here. In a bed. Not in a street, like you." The insult came easily, as though he had never left home.
"That so? You dress pretty good for a Billibottoner. Pretty fancy-dancy. Got a perfume stink17 about ya." And he held up a little finger to imply effeminacy.
"I won't talk about your stink. I went up in the world."
"Up in the world? La-dee-da. " Two other men stepped into the bakery. Raych frowned slightly, for he wasn't sure whether they had been summoned or not. The man at the table said to the newcomers, "This guy's gone up in the world. Says he's a Billibottoner."
One of the two newcomers shambled a mock salute18 and grinned with no appearance of amiability19. His teeth were discolored. "Ain't that nice? It's always good to see a Billibottoner go up in the world. Gives 'em a chance to help their poor unfor'chnit sector20 people. Like, credits. You can always spare a credit or two for the poor, hey?"
"How many you got, mister?" said the other, the grin disappearing.
"Hey," said the man behind the counter. "All you guys get out of my store. I don't want no trouble in here."
"There'll be no trouble," said Raych. "I'm leaving."
He made to go, but the seated man put a leg in his way. "Don't go, pal21. We'd miss yer company."
(The man behind the counter, clearly fearing the worst, disappeared into the rear.)
Raych smiled. He said, "One time when I was in Billibotton, guys, I was with my old man and old lady and there were ten guys who stopped us. Ten. I counted them. We had to take care of them."
"Yeah?" said the one who had been speaking. "Yer old man took care of ten?"
"My old man? Nah. He wouldn't waste his time. My old lady did. And I can do it better than she can. And there are only three of you. So, if you don't mind, out of the way."
"Sure. Just leave all your credits. Some of your clothes, too."
The man at the table rose to his feet. There was a knife in his hand.
"There you are," said Raych. "Now you're going to waste my time." He had finished his coke-icer and he half-turned. Then, as quickly as thought, he anchored himself to the table, while his right leg shot out and the point of his toe landed unerringly in the groin of the man with the knife.
Down he went with a loud cry. Up went the table, driving the second man toward the wall and keeping him there, while Raych's right arm flashed out, with the edge of the palm striking hard against the larynx of the third, who coughed and went down.
It had taken two seconds and Raych now stood there with a knife in each hand and said, "Now which one of you wants to move?"
They glared at him but remained frozen in place and Raych said, "In that case, I will now leave."
But the server, who had retreated to the back room, must have summoned help, for three more men had now entered the store, while the server screeched22, "Troublemakers23! Nothing but troublemakers!"
The newcomers were dressed alike in what was obviously a uniform-but one that Raych had never seen. Trousers were tucked into boots, loose green T-shirts were belted, and odd semispherical hats that looked vaguely24 comic were perched on top of their heads. On the front of the left shoulder of each T-shirt were the letters Jc.
They had the Dahlite look about them but not quite the Dahlite mustache. The mustaches were black and thick, but they were carefully trimmed at lip level and were kept from luxuriating too widely. Raych allowed himself an internal sneer25. They lacked the vigor26 of his own wild mustache, but he had to admit they looked neat and clean.
The leader of these three men said, "I'm Corporal Quinber. What's been going on here?"
The defeated Billibottoners were scrambling27 to their feet, clearly the worse for wear. One was still doubled over, one was rubbing his throat, and the third acted as though one of his shoulders had been wrenched28.
The corporal stared at them with a philosophic29 eye, while his two men blocked the door. He turned to Raych-the one man who seemed untouched. "Are you a Billibottoner, boy?"
"Born and bred, but I've lived elsewhere for eight years." He let the Billibotton accent recede30, but it was still there, at least to the extent that it existed in the corporal's speech as well. There were other parts of Dahl aside from Billibotton and some parts with considerable aspirations31 to gentility.
Raych said, "Are you security officers? I don't seem to recall the uniform you're-"
"We're not security officers. You won't find security officers in Billibotton much. We're the Joranum Guard and we keep the peace here. We know these three and they've been warned. We'll take care of them. You're our problem, buster. Name. Reference number."
Raych told them.
"And what happened here?"
Raych told them.
"And your business here?"
Raych said, "Look here. Do you have the right to question me? If you're not security officers-"
"Listen," said the corporal in a hard voice, "don't you question rights. We're all there is in Billibotton and we have the right because we take the right. You say you beat up these three men and I believe you. But you won't beat us up. We're not allowed to carry blasters-" And with that, the corporal slowly pulled out a blaster.
"Now tell me your business here."
Raych sighed. If he had gone directly to a sector hall, as he should have done-if he had not stopped to drown himself in nostalgia32 for Billibotton and coke-icers-
He said, "I have come on important business to see Mr. Joranum, and since you seem to be part of his organi-'
"To see the leader?"
"Yes, Corporal."
"With two knives on you?"
"For self-defense. I wasn't going to have them on me when I saw Mr. Joranum."
"So you say. We're taking you into custody33, mister. We'll get to the bottom of this. It may take time, but we will."
"But you don't have the right. You're not the legally const "
"Well, find someone to complain to. Till then, you're ours."
And the knives were confiscated34 and Raych was taken into custody.
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1
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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synthetic
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| adj.合成的，人工的；综合的；n.人工制品 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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7
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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coconut
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| n.椰子 | |
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reeked
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的过去式和过去分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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12
tarts
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| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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13
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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14
acclimate
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| v.使服水土，使习惯于新环境 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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16
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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stink
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| vi.发出恶臭；糟透，招人厌恶；n.恶臭 | |
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18
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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sector
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| n.部门，部分；防御地段，防区；扇形 | |
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pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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22
screeched
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的过去式和过去分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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23
troublemakers
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| n.惹是生非者，捣乱者( troublemaker的名词复数 ) | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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27
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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28
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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30
recede
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| vi.退(去)，渐渐远去；向后倾斜，缩进 | |
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31
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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32
nostalgia
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| n.怀乡病，留恋过去，怀旧 | |
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33
custody
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| n.监护，照看，羁押，拘留 | |
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34
confiscated
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| 没收，充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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