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Bradley, Marion Zimmer, 1930-1999

"The Door Through Space"

I took one
sip, then another. It was cold and pleasantly tart, and not until the
second swallow turned sweet on my tongue did I know what I tasted. I
pretended to swallow while the woman's eyes were fixed on me, then
somehow contrived to spill the filthy stuff down my shirt.
I was wary even of the fumes, but there was nothing else I could do. The
stuff was _shallavan_, outlawed on every planet in the Terran Empire and
every halfway decent planet outside it.
More and more figures, men and creatures, kept crowding into the cellar,
which was not very large. The place looked like the worst nightmare of a
drug-dreamer, ablaze with the colors of the smoking incense, the swaying
crowd, and their monotonous cries. Quite suddenly there was a blaze of
purple light and someone screamed in raving ecstasy: "_Na ki na Nebran
n'hai Kamaina!_"
"Kamayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeena!" shrilled the tranced mob.
An old man jumped up and started haranguing the crowd. I could just
follow his dialect. He was talking about Terra.


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