THE LAMPS OF THE ANGELS
By RICHARD SABIA
Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine June 1962.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The golden guardians denied mankind
the stars. They were irresistible in their
might ... and they were something more!
"Why did you come creeping into the house last night like a thief?"Mrs. Sanchez asked her son.
Lithe, dark Roberto set down his breakfast coffee and smiled up at her."Ah, Mama, you are the owl. I was certain I moved quiet as moonlight."
"I always hear the sounds of my children. Even the little one whenhe stirs in his grave. It is the way of a mother." She drew a cup ofcoffee and sat with them at the table in the small kitchen patio.
"The hour was late," Roberto said, "and I did not wish to disturb youwith greetings that would keep until morning. You sleep little enoughas it is. Though the hard days are gone, the sun still rises after you."
Roberto's father looked up from his newspaper. "She will always befull of the old ways," he said with fond gruffness. "For her thereis no change. Our children have grown proud and fine and freed usfrom bondage to the soil. Yet she still behaves as a peon. To her westill toil in the fields of the patron, bent with exhaustion over theplanting or harvesting consoles, struggling to control the many fieldmachines. She bakes her own bread. The market vegetables do not pleaseher so she chafes her hands with the buttons and switches of a garden.And a robot to scrub the floors she will not hear of. Perhaps shethinks it would be prettier than she and I might run off with it toMexico City."
"Foolish old man," Mrs. Sanchez said with mock severity, "you have losteven the memory of what it is to run."
"Mama," Roberto said, "I have a present for you."
Something of an eager little girl looked out of the wise eyes.
"I have no need of a present," she said but her eyes searched the leafylittle patio. "All I ask as a gift is for you to come out of the skyfor a little while and marry."
Roberto smiled. "Have not my brothers and sisters given yougrandchildren enough? And what woman will marry the captain of a spacevessel? With my journeys to Jupiter and Saturn and outermost Nyx, Iwould forever be a stranger to my children and an occasional guest tomy wife." From under his napkin he drew forth a small silvery box."Mama, your present."
She gasped with delight when she opened it. In a black velvetwomb nested a strange glittering jewel suspended on a delicate,spider-strand, silver chain. "Roberto!" she exclaimed with a feebleremonstrance.
"Like the others I have brought it is not expensive," Roberto said."The stone is a common one on Nyx. But it is very beautiful and when Ifound it I thought of you."
A bell-light flashed on the kitchen console. Mrs. Sanchez went to it asa shallow dish slid from the oven. She set it, sizzling softly, on thetable. "And a present for you," she said. "Your favorite, quinquaños.Fresh from Venus yesterday, or so the vendor tells me." She shruggeddubiously. "In this sinful age even the machines lie."
"But, Mama, the money I send is not to be wasted on me! These are soexpensive."
"And small," Mrs. Sanchez said. "Why is there not a garden manufacturedthat can be programmed for quinquaños so that I might grow my own?"
"Because five fortunes could not pay for