“Amazonia,” he said. “Does that mean what it sounds like it does?”
She made her move and settled back in satisfaction. Her pawns were in such position that his bishops were both unusable. He’d tried to play a phalanx game in the early stages of her attack, but she’d broken through, rolling up his left flank after sacrificing a castle and knight.
“Certainly does,” she said. “A fairly recently colonized planet. A few thousand feminists—no men at all—moved onto it a few centuries ago. And it’s still an out and out matriarchy.”
Ronny cleared his throat delicately. “Without men… ah, how did they continue several centuries?”
Tog suppressed her amusement. “Artificial insemination, at first, so I understand. They brought their supply with them. But then there were boys among the first generation on the new planet and even the Amazonians weren’t up to cold bloodedly butchering their children. So they merely enslaved them. Nice girls.”
Ronny stared at her. “You mean all men are automatically slaves on this planet?”
“That’s right.”
Ronny made an improperly thought out move, trying to bring up a castle to reinforce his collapsing flank. He said, “UP allows anybody to join, evidently,” and there was disgust in his voice.
“Why not?” she said mildly.
“Well, there should be some standards.”
Tog moved quickly, dominating with a knight several squares he couldn’t afford to lose. She looked up at him, her dark eyes sparking. “The point of UP is to include all the planets. That way at least conflict can be avoided and some exchange of science, industrial techniques and cultural gains take place. And you must remember that while in power practically no socio-economic system will admit to the fact that it could possibly change for the better. But actually there is nothing less stable. Socio-economic systems are almost always in a condition of flux. Planets such as Amazonia might for a time seem so brutal in their methods as to exclude their right to civilized intercourse with the rest. However, one of these days there’ll be a change—or one of these centuries. They all change, sooner or later.” She added softly, “Even Han.”
“Han?” Ronny said.
Her voice was quiet. “Where I was born, Ronny. Colonized from China in the very early days. In fact, I spent my childhood in a commune.” She said musingly, “The party bureaucrats thought their system was an impregnable, unchangeable one. Your move.”
Ronny was fascinated. “And what happened?” He was in full retreat now, and with nowhere to go, his pieces pinned up for the slaughter. He moved a pawn to try and open up his queen.
“Why don’t you concede?” she said. “Tommy Paine happened.”
“Paine!”
“Uh-huh. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime.” She pressed closer with her own queen.
He stared disgustedly at the board. “Well, that’s what I mean,” he muttered. “I had no idea there were so many varieties of crackpot politico-economic systems among the UP membership.”
“They’re not necessarily crackpot,” she protested mildly. “Just at different stages of development.”
“Not crackpot!” he said. “Here we are heading for a planet named Kropotkin which evidently practices anarchy.”
“Your move,” she said. “What’s wrong with anarchism?”
He glowered at her, in outraged disgust. Was it absolutely impossible for him to say anything without her disagreement?
Tog said mildly, “The anarchistic ethic is one of the highest man has ever developed.” She added, after a moment of pretty consideration, “Unfortunately, it hasn’t been practical to put it into practice. It will be interesting to see how they’ve done on Kropotkin.”
“Anarchist ethic, yet,” Ronny snapped. “I’m no student of the movement, but the way I understand it, there isn’t any.”
Tog smiled sweetly. “The belief upon which they base their teachings is that no man is capable of judging another.”
Ronny cast his eyes ceilingward. “O.K., I give up!”
She began rapidly resetting the pieces. “Another game?” she said brightly.
“Hey! I didn’t mean the game! I was just about to counterattack.”
“Ha!” she said.
XII
The Section G agent on Kropotkin was named Hideka Yamamoto, but he was on a field tour and wouldn’t be back for several days. However, there wasn’t especially any great hurry so far as Ronny Bronston and Tog Lee Chang Chu knew. They got themselves organized in the rather rustic equivalent of a hotel, which was located fairly near UP headquarters, and took up the usual problems of arranging for local exchange, meals, means of transportation and such necessities.
It was a greater problem than usual. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the presence of the UP organization, which had already gone through all this the hard way, some of the difficulties would have been all but insurmountable.
For instance, there was no local exchange. There was no medium of exchange at all. Evidently simple barter was the rule.
In the hotel—if it could be called a hotel—lobby, Ronny Bronston looked at Tog. “Anarchism!” he said. “Oh, great. The highest ethic of all. And what’s the means of transportation on this wonderful planet? The horse. And how are we going to get a couple of horses with no means of exchange?”
She tinkled laughter.
“All right,” he said. “You’re the Man Friday. You find out the details and handle them. I’m going out to take a look around the town—if you can call this a town.”
“It’s the capital of Kropotkin,” Tog said placatingly, though with a mocking background in her tone. “Name of Bakunin. And very pleasant, too, from what little I’ve seen. Not a bit of smog, industrial fumes, street dirt, street noises—”
“How could there be?” he injected disgustedly. “There isn’t any industry, there aren’t any cars, and for all practical purposes, no streets. The houses are a quarter of a mile or so apart.”
She laughed at him again. “City boy,” she said. “Go on out there and enjoy nature a little. It’ll do you good. Anybody who has cooped himself up in that one big city, Earth, all his life ought to enjoy seeing what the great outdoors looks like.”
He looked
