Kren of the Mitchegai

by Leo Frankowski

  Again, Kren was amazed. It was really a suite of rooms, with a palatial sitting room with couches, tables for party snacks, and a private drinking fountain. It connected to the rest of Bronki's quarters with a lockable door. Another door connected to a hallway that led to the stairway, so that he could come and go as he wished, without going through the rest of the apartment. It had the same high windows as the rest of her floor, and the high ceilings were, if anything, even more ornate.

  There was a huge bedroom with a magnificently carved bed big enough for a half dozen Mitchegai, if such a thing were imaginable. Mitchegai prefer to sleep alone, behind locked doors. They are very uncomfortable with the thought of being unconscious while lying next to another deadly carnivore.

  The three large chests of drawers in the room were now empty. Kren could not imagine owning enough things to fill them. He had a private toilet, and a clothes closet big enough to hold many gross of cloaks.

  The walls supported paintings of outstanding quality, the bookshelves were neatly filled with beautifully tooled leather-covered volumes, and the furniture was all done as masterfully as that in the main living areas.

  "I can spare you a few hours tomorrow morning," Bronki said. "We'll stop at the bank, and then I'll introduce you to the athletic director. After that, I'll be very busy for a while. I'll send in one of the servants to see that you have everything that you need."

  When she had left, Kren lay down on the bed, thinking that when he had Bronki strapped to her chair, with both of her legs cut, he should have gotten a lot more from her than twelve thousand Ke.

  A servant wearing an undergraduate's cloak of maroon with lime green piping and a purplish-red sash came in without knocking.

  "I am Dol, sir. I've been assigned to you during your stay here."

  "How nice. I didn't expect a servant."

  "I suppose that it is a bit unusual for a junior to be the servant of one not yet a freshman, but there are many servants here, and only one guest, so things are as they are. Is there anything that I can get for you, sir?"

  "There's nothing that I can think of, but then except for my housekeeper in the country, I've never had a servant. Is there anything that you would suggest?"

  "Food? Books? Clothing? Some sort of entertainment?"

  "Not food, and Bronki said that she was going to send me a book on geography. I will be needing some clothing suitable for an undergraduate student, but I think that is best put off for a while. What sort of entertainment is available?"

  "How about a television set?"

  Dol wheeled the bulky set in, demonstrated its use, and left, promising to be on call at all times.

  Kren soon found himself watching a program called Big Time Gladiators, which involved a sort of combat between two remarkably clumsy Mitchegai adults. One was swinging an oversized sword, and the other had a badly balanced spear, while someone off screen was talking about the match excitedly, trying to make it sound interesting. The fighters appeared to have had no training with their weapons at all!

  After a dozen minutes of buffoonery, the swordsman managed to land a blow to the leg of the spearman, obviously more by accident than by design. With the encouragement of the crowd, she further crippled her opponent, and then chopped her head off with an awkward, two-handed blow. This head was held up to the cheering crowd, and then presented to someone who, it seemed, was officiating the event. It was again held up to the crowd, after which the brain was eaten by the official. The living gladiator dragged the dead one's body off, perhaps to enjoy her meal in private.

  As she did so, the announcer mentioned that she was the last living slave from the Senta Copper Mine.

  Kren now knew what had happened to his former coworkers, while he was hiding in the small tunnel. He congratulated himself for having definitely made the right move that time!

  He turned the set off, locked and barred all of the doors, and went to sleep.

  The next morning they went first to the bank, with Bronki leading the way and Dol following behind. The weather was good, and Bronki elected to walk on the surface, rather that going by tunnel.

  As they left the house, Kren turned around and looked at it, surprised at its size. It was a dozen and five stories high, but much wider than it was tall. Basically cylindrical, it was surrounded by balconies that spiraled upwards in a double helix.

  "One goes up and one goes down," Dol said. "There are revolving doors top and bottom that keep the juvenals circulating up to the top, and then down again. Otherwise, they'd get confused, and the grass on the roof never would get eaten."

  "Come along, you two. We don't have all day," Bronki said.

  At the bank, Bronki quickly converted Kren's savings account to a credit card account, deducting his travel expenses and a year's advance rent in the process, and he was soon issued a credit card, complete with a photo on it. Not a picture of his face, of course, but of the identification scarring on his right arm.

  The athletic director was waiting for them in his very impressive office.

  "So you're the one Bronki here was telling me about, huh? The one who was involved in Duke Dennon's disaster at the Senta Copper Mine?"

  "I'd hardly call it a disaster, sir, except for me personally, of course, since I was killed there. But for my unit, we were given a military objective to take and we took it, with only ordinary casualties," Kren said.

  "Oh, militarily, everything was just fine, and I'm sure that your unit did a fine job. It was what happened afterward that caused all of the duke's problems."

  "I'm afraid that those of us in the military were often not informed of such things."

  "Yeah? Well, the duke's plans were that he would take the mine, and then shut it down for maybe a year, while he had it completely automated. You see, that mine produced nine dozen per gross of the copper ore produced on this whole planet. With its production halted, the price of copper ore was projected to quadruple. Then, he would sign long-term contracts with the copper smelters, at the new high price, of course, since they would be afraid of the price getting even worse. When he put the mine back into production, he would make a fortune!" The Director laughed.

  Bronki and Dol stayed silent, not daring to interrupt the director as he was speaking to Kren.

  "That sounds like a reasonable program to me, sir."

  "Right. So, the duke went way into debt to buy all of that new machinery, since it was his excuse for shutting down the mine in the first place. Without the excuse, the copper smelters would have joined together and attacked him immediately!

  "And then on the very day that the machinery was due to be shipped to him, the Space Mitchegai announced that they had found an asteroid six miles across that was five dozen eleven parts per gross copper! The Sky Boys soon started down-shipping refined copper at a third of the price that it had been selling for when the duke started this whole thing."

  "Hmmm. You know, sir, that might explain why my pay is considerably in arrears, and why they were very eager to grant me an educational leave of absence, without pay, of course."

  Kren found lying to be so easy that he was now sure that one of his former victims must have been a champion liar.

  "That would sound likely. The lawsuits are flying all over the place right now, and some think that the duke might lose his duchy through bankruptcy, something that has only happened nine times before in the entire history of the planet!" The director thought that the whole thing was hilarious.

  "So the duke's fatal flaw was that he was simply unlucky. Perhaps we should have lost that battle for him."

  "He would have been fortunate if you had, but his troops were just too good. Speaking of which, grab a javelin and we'll go out and see just how good you are with one."

  When Kren saw the rack that he'd gestured to, his heart slipped down to his knees.

  "Sir, I've never trained with anything like one of those. All I know how to handle is a standard military spear like this one."

  The director took i
t, hefted it, and handed it back.

  "You mean to tell me that you hit the neck of a four-year-old at a gross three dozen and eleven yards with this stubby, heavy thing? This I've got to see! Come on out to the training field, all of you."

  He grabbed three javelins off of the rack and led the way.

  When they got there, Kren saw four large, circular grass targets at various distances down the length of the field. The farthest looked to be at about a gross two dozen yards.

  "Well, take a throw, with your own spear."

  "Yes, sir. Which target should I hit?"

  "Take your pick."

  Kren took the standard three running steps and let fly at the farthest target. His throw was good, and it struck deep into the very center of the smallest circle.

  "Kren for as long as you can do that, you have yourself an athletic scholarship. Full tuition, books, and a food allowance."

  Bronki entered in with, "That's very helpful, Director, but Kren has no other income. He'll need a place to stay, a clothing allowance, and a little spending money, anyway."

  "Humph. I don't know. That would be sort of unusual. Kren, take one of these javelins and just take a throw. Go for distance."

  Kren had the judgment and muscular control of a champion athlete, coupled with the massive strength his body had developed in ten years of hard labor in the mines. When he threw the javelin, its flight surprised him. It didn't travel in the usual parabola, but actually seemed to be flying, traveling in level flight! It continued out beyond the field and over the fence, to fall he didn't know where.

  "Sorry about your javelin, sir. I'll try to retrieve it."

  The director was still looking at the place where the javelin had disappeared. There was an awestruck expression on his face.

  "Burn the javelin! Okay. Housing allowance, clothing allowance, and three dozen Ke a week spending money. I'll get a special donation from one of the alumnae to cover the cost! Once we teach you how to use a javelin properly, you'll be a planetary champion, and I'll be rich! You'll train for three hours a day, directly under me, the exact times to be worked around your class schedule. Report back at three, tomorrow, and my secretary will have all of the paperwork ready for you to sign."

  "Thank you, sir. Did I mention that I was quite proficient with a sword?"

  The athletic director looked at him amazed, and said, "We'll check that out tomorrow, too. Right now, I've got some phone calling to do, and some bets to place!"

  Bronki and the director looked at each other, and they both bowed slightly. They both knew that Bronki could expect a hefty finder's fee for bringing Kren here, and an even larger one if he won the championship.

  As they left, Bronki said, "Well, Kren. It would seem that your athletic career is well started, and that your venture will be well funded."

  "Thanks to you, Bronki."

  "Remember that I am always on your side. Have you done any thinking as to just what your course of study here at the university will be?"

  "Yes, I have. I find that I am impressed with your wealth. I think that I will study business."

  "Yes, that would be good," she said, thinking about Kren's vampirism turned loose on the field of business. "I think that with the right training, and a little help from your good friends, your natural abilities should earn you a very successful life in business," Bronki said.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  FROM CAPTURED HISTORY TAPES,

  FILE 1846583A ca. 1832 a.d.

  BUT CONCERNING EVENTS OF UP TO

  2000 YEARS EARLIER

  Buying the Mitchegai Way

  Bronki gave Dol very specific instructions about precisely what they should do in the afternoon, and exactly where they should go and who they should speak to. Then she left to attend to other business of her own.

  "Our first stop is the College of Business," Dol said.

  They went to a large, impressive complex consisting of four rectangular buildings set around a central square with a large, ornate watering fountain. A large symbol of the Ke adorned every side of every building, the same ancient symbol that is found on every bit of currency throughout all of Mitchegai space.

  "It is very attractive," Kren said.

  "It is good that you like it. You'll be spending much of your time for the next five years here, assuming, that is, that you don't wash out."

  There was a short line at the registrar's office, and when they got to the front of it, the clerk started by checking Kren's credit card for how much money he had in the bank, and then deducting three semesters' tuition from it. He was informed that if he failed the course, or if he failed to qualify for admission, there would be no refunds.

  Dol told her that Kren was here on a scholarship, and that he would require a receipt. After some grumbling, she gave them one, and then spent some time changing things on her computer before seeing the next applicant.

  Kren was then escorted to a testing room, while Dol waited outside. An hour later, Kren came out with a dazed expression on his face, and the two of them went to see an academic advisor.

  "Kren, you have a most unusual profile. You are very proficient in three languages, including the academic language of Keno, and the business language of Neno, which are both extremely helpful. Also, you know the military language of Meno, which isn't used much around here. In addition, you have a smattering of four others, besides Deno, of course."

  Among the Mitchegai, languages are not distributed geographically, as they are among a young race like the humans. Rather, they differ according to the occupation of the individual in question. Soldiers speak quite a different language than do engineers, for example. Among soldiers, the word for "foreigner" also means "enemy" and "evil," and they have no words to describe thermal equilibrium.

  All Mitchegai also speak Deno, a simplified sort of pidgin that permits them to buy and sell with other professions, but not to truly communicate with them.

  The advisor continued, "You know quite a bit about anatomy. Your math scores go right over the top, better than anything I've ever seen before in an undergraduate. But you are woefully substandard in everything else. Tell me, why did you choose the College of Business, anyway? Why not the College of Languages, or the College of Mathematics?"

  "Why should I study subjects in which I am already proficient?" Kren said, "I chose to study business because I would like to become rich."

  "Wouldn't we all? But I really don't see how I could recommend you to the College of Business with these test scores."

  Dol said, "Please excuse me, but did you know that Kren has been personally granted a scholarship by the director of athletics?"

  "The director of athletics?" The advisor's voice squeaked. "Well, that, of course changes everything! You really should have told me that earlier! Kren, I am delighted to welcome you to the College of Business! Of course, there will be certain remedial courses you will have to take in order to prepare you for a successful academic career, but you are definitely on your path to the future! Just give me a few minutes to arrange your class schedule."

  "The director said that I would need three hours a day for physical training."

  "But of course. Is there any particular time that you would like that to happen?"

  "He said that we could arrange that around my class schedule."

  "Really? You must be very special indeed. I've heard that the director prefers to work in the afternoons. Let's give you from seven to ten for him, and put all of your academic work in the morning. That will leave your late afternoons and evenings free for study, or whatever else you choose to do."

  The Mitchegai use a two-dozen-hour day, with sunrise being at zero. They do not use time zones. Rather, the clocks on all public transportation slowly change their speeds, and sometimes even direction, to reflect local time. On a fast aircraft traveling near the poles, the clocks sometimes did surprising things. The pilots lived and worked on Planetary Standard Time, of course.

  Dol noticed that the advisor had
changed the class schedules of five other students before he was done.

  As they were leaving the building, Kren said, "The director seems to have a remarkable amount of power."

  "Indeed he does, as well as status. He is the second most powerful person on campus, which means the entire city. Only the chancellor outranks him."

  "And why is that?"

  "Because the College of Athletics brings more money into the university than student tuitions do! The ticket sales to sporting events and the payments made by the television channels are what keeps this institution going," she said.

  "Remarkable. And which individual comes in third?"

  "The director of drama, although they only bring in a third of what athletics does. Our next stop is the book store."

  Here it was a simple matter of giving a clerk a copy of Kren's class schedule, and sitting down and waiting for half an hour. She returned with a cart full of books, and four hefty cloth bags to put them in. She took Kren's credit card, deducted the cost of the books, various supplies, and the bags. After some stern discussions with Dol, in which the director's title was mentioned, she exchanged nine books that she said had been placed on the cart by mistake, and gave them a receipt.

  "Why is there such a problem with receipts?" Kren asked as they trudged along with two heavy bags each.

  "Well, it sometimes happens that a new freshman finds out that he has not paid for his tuition at all, but has made a donation to the Clerk's Civic Betterment Fund, or that he has purchased a set of obsolete books that have nothing to do with his class schedule. Also, I think that your military uniform leads some fools into thinking that you are stupid. Always get a receipt. And anyway, you'll need the receipts to be reimbursed by the director's office."

  "For this timely aid, much thanks!"

  "Thank Bronki. She's paying me," she said.

  "Do you like working for her?"