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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Bowsprit Bear's Stead, a time-traveling historian who always wears his lucky bear rug on missions, arrives on an obscure planet to witness the fall of the Galactic Empire. The awful-smelling Neanderthal Emperor and his two argumentative robots absorb his attention while the New Human fleet approaches--but in a twist of fate, he learns that the history of humanity from Earth is not at all what he was thought it was.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Edges, edited by Ursula K. Le Guin and Virginia Kidd, Pocket Books, 1980
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2001

38 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [70 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [55 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [54 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [225 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [60 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [65 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [129 KB] , hiebook (KML) [147 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [84 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [49 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [62 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [89 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [83 KB]
Words: 16851
Reading time: 48-67 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"I haven't altered its genome much, though it craved a cooler climate. It has four petals, not terribly attractive, and four sepals. Here is its pistil, and you will find six stamens. Evidently one of the Cruciferae, the mustards, you know. Marx calls it Brassica rapa, but Smith insists it's a rutabaga.' He popped the flower into his mouth, munched without pleasure, and discarded it. 'Pity. I was informed that it's edible. Are you a keen gardener yourself?'

Wordless, I shook my head. I realized, then, that he would not recognize the gesture, but I was wrong. He shot me a hard look.

"How may I serve you, then, sir? I had imagined that you were here to view my horticulture.'

The telephone rang. I screamed with frustrated rage and snatched the receiver up.

"God damn it!' I covered the mouthpiece with my palm and told the Neanderthal, 'Excuse me for a moment.'

"This is Roger, your Life Support System.'

"I guessed. Listen, Roger, I'm in the middle of--'

"Bowsprit, don't blow it. He's right about the plant, the rutabaga is a related but different herb, Brassica napobrassica. This one's a turnip. Tell him to pull up the root, but not to gnaw on it--it has to be cooked.'

"Roger, you're a gem.'

"Don't hang up. Those singularities are getting closer. There are two of them. Marx and Smith?'

"Presumably. I'll get back to you.' I passed on the facts to the old fellow, trying to breathe through my mouth. You have no idea how bad he smelled. He unearthed a number of spherical roots with tails, their plump white bodies swathed at the top in purple much darker than the sky.

"Fascinating,' he said, peeling one open. 'You don't happen to know how to prepare them, I suppose? Marx obtained the seeds for me for my birthday, but it would never occur to him to get a recipe. They don't eat, you see.'

I risked offending him, but there couldn't have been any alternative explanation. 'There are mechanisms from Earth here, at the Imperial Palace?'

"Just the two. Robots. Artificial human beings, as it were. The barbarians sent them a long time ago, as a gift to the last Emperor. They're very old, like me.' He took my elbow in a comradely way. 'Can I offer you a drink? Come in out of the hot sun, you're sweating like a pig, you know. Tell me, are all your race so hairy? Do you all have two heads?'

With some embarrassment, I tapped the dead, ferocious jaws which gaped over my forehead. 'This is a vestment, Old Father, a costume. It is of sacred significance. I wear the head and pelt of my brother Bear when I, uh, voyage.'

"I thought his eye was a trifle glazed.' We started toward the great sail-hut, and my telephone rang.

"This is Roger, your Life Support System.'

"I know already. Can't you leave us in peace for--'

"To prepare a delicious turnip ragout,' the Liss said, 'peel a dozen baby turnips, not too long in the ground, mind, and set them aside. Blend a large spoonful of flour in the same quantity of melted dripping, heating and stirring until the blend is yellow. Add a cup of stock and bring to the boil. Put in the turnips, seasoned with salt, pepper and two teaspoons of sugar, and simmer for about three-quarters of an hour. Tender, the turnip is a toothsome treat.'

"Thank you, Roger.'