








                    The Princess and the Physicist

                          By EVELYN E. SMITH

                         Illustrated by KOSSIN

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
                   Galaxy Science Fiction June 1955.
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]




               Elected a god, Zen the Omnipotent longed
               for supernatural powers--for he was also
               Zen the All-Put-Upon, a galactic sucker!


Zen the Terrible lay quiescent in the secret retreat which housed his
corporeal being, all the aspects of his personality wallowing in the
luxury of a day off. How glad he was that he'd had the forethought to
stipulate a weekly holiday for himself when first this godhood had
been thrust upon him, hundreds of centuries before. He'd accepted the
perquisites of divinity with pleasure then. It was some little time
before he discovered its drawbacks, and by then it was too late; he had
become the established church.

All the aspects of his personality rested ... save one, that is. And
that one, stretching out an impalpable tendril of curiosity, brought
back to his total consciousness the news that a spaceship from Earth
had arrived when no ship from Earth was due.

_So what?_ the total consciousness asked lazily of itself. _Probably
they have a large out-of-season order for hajench. My hajench going to
provide salad bowls for barbarians!_

When, twenty years previously, the Earthmen had come back to their
colony on Uxen after a lapse of thousands of years, Zen had been
hopeful that they would take some of the Divine Work off his hands.
After all, since it was they who had originally established the
colony, it should be their responsibility. But it seemed that all
humans, not merely the Uxenach, were irresponsible. The Earthmen were
interested only in trade and tribute. They even refused to believe in
the existence of Zen, an attitude which he found extremely irritating
to his ego.

       *       *       *       *       *

True, Uxen prospered commercially to a mild extent after their return,
for the local ceramics that had been developed in the long interval
found wide acceptance throughout the Galaxy, particularly the low bowls
which had hitherto been used only for burning incense before Zen the
Formidable.

Now every two-bit planet offered hajench in its gift shops.

Culturally, though, Uxen had degenerated under the new Earth
administration. No more criminals were thrown to the skwitch. Xwoosh
lost its interest when new laws prohibited the ancient custom of
executing the losing side after each game.

There was no tourist trade, for the planet was too far from the rest
of the Galaxy. The commercial spaceships came only once every three
months and left the same day. The two destroyers that "guarded" the
planet arrived at rare intervals for fueling or repairs, but the crew
never had anything to do with the Uxenach. Local ordinance forbade the
maidens of Uxen to speak to the outlanders, and the outlanders were not
interested in any of the other native products.

But the last commercial spaceship had departed less than three weeks
before on its regular run, and this was not one of the guard ships.

Zen reluctantly conceded to himself that he would have to investigate
this situation further, if he wanted to retain his reputation for
omniscience. Sometimes, in an occasional moment of self-doubt, he
wondered if he weren't too much of a perfectionist, but then he
rejected the thought as self-sacrilege.

Zen dutifully intensified the beam of awareness and returned it to the
audience chamber where the two strange Earthmen who had come on the
ship were being ushered into the presence of the king by none other
than Guj, the venerable prime minister himself.

"Gentlemen," Guj beamed, his long white beard vibrating in an excess of
hospitality, "His Gracious Majesty will be delighted to receive you at
once."

And crossing his wrists in the secular xa, he led the way to where Uxlu
the Fifteenth was seated in full regalia upon his imposing golden,
gem-encrusted throne.

Uxlu himself, Zen admitted grudgingly, was an imposing sight to anyone
who didn't know the old yio. The years--for he was a scant decade
younger than Guj--had merely lent dignity to his handsome features, and
he was still tall and upright.

"Welcome, Earthlings, to Uxen," King Uxlu said in the sonorous tones of
the practiced public speaker. "If there is aught we can do to advance
your comfort whilst you sojourn on our little planet, you have but to
speak."

He did not, Zen noted with approval, rashly promise that requests
would necessarily be granted. Which was fine, because the god well
knew who the carrier out of requests would be--Zen the Almighty, the
All-Powerful, the All-Put-Upon....

"Thank you, Your Majesty," the older of the two scientists said. "We
merely seek a retired spot in which to conduct our researches."

"Researches, eh?" the king repeated with warm interest. "Are you
perhaps scientists?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Every one of Zen's perceptors quivered
expectantly. Earth science was banned on Uxen, with the result that its
acquisition had become the golden dream of every Uxena, including, of
course, their god.

The older scientist gave a stiff bow. "I am an anthropologist. My
name is Kendrick, Professor Alpheus Kendrick. My assistant, Dr. Peter
Hammond--" he indicated the tall young man with him--"is a physicist."

       *       *       *       *       *

The king and the prime minister conferred together in whispers. Zen
wished he could join them, but he couldn't materialize on that plane
without incense, and he preferred his subjects not to know that he
could be invisibly present, especially on his day off. Of course, his
Immaterial Omnipresence was a part of the accepted dogma, but there is
a big difference between accepting a concept on a basis of faith or of
proven fact.

"Curious researches," the king said, emerging from the conference,
"that require both physics _and_ anthropology."

"Yes," said Kendrick. "They are rather involved at that." Peter Hammond
shuffled his feet.

"Perhaps some of our technicians might be of assistance to you," the
king suggested. "They may not have your science, but they are very
adept with their hands...."

"Our researches are rather limited in scope," Kendrick assured him. "We
can do everything needful quite adequately ourselves. All we need is a
place in which to do it."

"You shall have our own second-best palace," the king said graciously.
"It has both hot and cold water laid on, as well as central heating."

"We've brought along our own collapsible laboratory-dwelling," Kendrick
explained. "We just want a spot to set it up."

Uxlu sighed. "The royal parks are at your disposal. You will
undoubtedly require servants?"

"We have a robot, thanks."

"A robot is a mechanical man who does all our housework," Hammond, more
courteous than his superior, explained. Zen wondered how he could ever
have felt a moment's uneasiness concerning these wonderful strangers.

"Zen will be interested to hear of this," the prime minister said
cannily. He and the king nodded at one another.

"_Who_ did you say?" Kendrick asked eagerly.

"Zen the Terrible," the king repeated, "Zen the All-Powerful, Zen the
Encyclopedic. Surely you have heard of him?" he asked in some surprise.
"He's Uxen's own particular, personal and private god, exclusive to our
planet."

"Yes, yes, of course I've heard about him," Kendrick said, trembling
with hardly repressed excitement.

_What a correct attitude!_ Zen thought. _One rarely finds such
religious respect among foreigners._

"In fact, I've heard a great deal about him and I should like to know
even more!" Kendrick spoke almost reverently.

"He _is_ an extremely interesting divinity," the king replied
complacently. "And if your robot cannot teleport or requires a hand
with the heavy work, do not hesitate to call on Zen the Accommodating.
We'll detail a priest to summon--"

"The robot manages very well all by itself, thank you," Kendrick said
quickly.

       *       *       *       *       *

In his hideaway, the material body of Zen breathed a vast multiple sigh
of relief. He was getting to like these Earthmen more and more by the
minute.

"Might I inquire," the king asked, "into the nature of your researches?"

"An investigation of the prevalent nuclear ritual beliefs on Uxen in
relation to the over-all matrix of social culture, and we really must
get along and see to the unloading of the ship. Good-by, Your
Majesty ... Your Excellency." And Kendrick dragged his protesting aide
off.

"If only," said the king, "I were still an absolute monarch, I would
teach these Earthlings some manners." His face grew wistful. "Well I
remember how my father would have those who crossed him torn apart by
wild skwitch."

"If you did have the Earthlings torn apart by wild skwitch, Sire," Guj
pointed out, "then you would certainly never be able to obtain any
information from them."

Uxlu sighed. "I would merely have them torn apart a little--just enough
so that they would answer a few civil questions." He sighed again.
"And, supposing they did happen to--er--pass on, in the process, think
of the tremendous lift to my ego. But nobody thinks of the king's ego
any more these days."

No, things were not what they had been since the time the planet had
been retrieved by the Earthlings. They had not communicated with Uxen
for so many hundreds of years, they had explained, because, after a
more than ordinarily disastrous war, they had lost the secret of space
travel for centuries.

Now, wanting to make amends for those long years of neglect, they
immediately provided that the Earth language and the Earth income tax
become mandatory upon Uxen. The language was taught by recordings.
Since the Uxenach were a highly intelligent people, they had all
learned it quickly and forgotten most of their native tongue except for
a few untranslatable concepts.

"Must be a new secret atomic weapon they're working on," Uxlu decided.
"Why else should they come to such a remote corner of the Galaxy? And
you will recall that the older one--Kendrick--said something about
nuclear beliefs. If only we could discover what it is, secure it for
ourselves, perhaps we could defeat the Earthmen, drive them away--" he
sighed for the third time that morning--"and rule the planet ourselves."

       *       *       *       *       *

Just then the crown princess Iximi entered the throne room. Iximi
really lived up to her title of Most Fair and Exalted, for centuries
of selective breeding under which the kings of Uxen had seized the
loveliest women of the planet for their wives had resulted in an
outstanding pulchritude. Her hair was as golden as the ripe fruit that
bent the boughs of the iolo tree, and her eyes were bluer than the uriz
stones on the belt girdling her slender waist. Reproductions of the
famous portrait of her which hung in the great hall of the palace were
very popular on calendars.

"My father grieves," she observed, making the secular xa. "Pray tell
your unworthy daughter what sorrow racks your noble bosom."

"Uxen is a backwash," her father mourned. "A planet forgotten, while
the rest of the Galaxy goes by. Our ego has reached its nadir."

"Why did you let yourself be conquered?" the princess retorted
scornfully. "Ah, had I been old enough to speak then, matters would be
very different today!" Although she seemed too beautiful to be endowed
with brains, Iximi had been graduated from the Royal University with
high honors.

Zen the Erudite was particularly fond of her, for she had been his best
student in Advanced Theology. She was, moreover, an ardent patriot and
leader of the underground Moolai (free) Uxen movement, with which Zen
was more or less in sympathy, since he felt Uxen belonged to him and
not to the Earthlings. After all, he had been there first.

"_Let_ ourselves be conquered!" Her father's voice rose to a squeak.
"_Let_ ourselves! Nobody asked us--we _were_ conquered."

"True, but we could at least have essayed our strength against the
conquerors instead of capitulating like yioch. We could have fought to
the last man!"

"A woman is always ready to fight to the last man," Guj commented.

"Did you hear that, ancient and revered parent! He called me, a
princess of the blood, a--a woman!"

"We are all equal before Zen," Guj said sententiously, making the high
xa.

"Praise Zen," Uxlu and Iximi chanted perfunctorily, bowing low.

Iximi, still angry, ordered Guj--who was also high priest--to start
services. Kindling the incense in the hajen, he began the chant.

Of course it was his holiday, but Zen couldn't resist the appeal of
the incense. Besides he was there anyway, so it was really no trouble,
_no trouble_, he thought, greedily sniffing the delicious aroma, _at
all_. He materialized a head with seven nostrils so that he was able to
inhale the incense in one delectable gulp. Then, "No prayers answered
on Thursday," he said, and disappeared. That would show them!

"Drat Zen and his days off!" The princess was in a fury. "Very well,
we'll manage without Zen the Spiteful. Now, precisely what is troubling
you, worthy and undeservedly Honored Parent?"

"Those two scientists who arrived from Earth. Didn't you meet them
when you came in?"

"No, Respected Father," she said, sitting on the arm of the throne. "I
must have just missed them. What are they like?"

       *       *       *       *       *

He told her what they were like in terms not even a monarch should use
before his daughter. "And these squuch," he concluded, "are undoubtedly
working on a secret weapon. If we had it, we could free Uxen."

"Moolai Uxen!" the princess shouted, standing up. "My friends, must we
continue to submit to the yoke of the tyrant? Arise. Smite the...."

"Anyone," said Guj, "can make a speech."

The princess sat on the steps of the throne and pondered. "Obviously we
must introduce a spy into their household to learn their science and
turn it to our advantage."

"They are very careful, those Earthlings," Guj informed her
superciliously. "It is obvious that they do not intend to let any of us
come near them."

The princess gave a knowing smile. "But they undoubtedly will need at
least one menial to care for their dwelling. I shall be that menial. I,
Iximi, will so demean myself for the sake of my planet! Moolai Uxen!"

"You cannot do it, Iximi," her father said, distressed. "You must not
defile yourself so. I will not hear of it!"

"And besides," Guj interposed, "they will need no servants. All their
housework is to be done by their robot--a mechanical man that performs
all menial duties. And you, Your Royal Highness, could not plausibly
disguise yourself as a machine."

"No-o-o-o, I expect not." The princess hugged the rosy knees
revealed by her brief tunic and thought aloud, "But ... just ...
supposing ... something ... went wrong with the robot.... They do
not possess another?"

"They referred only to one, Highness," Guj replied reluctantly. "But
they may have the parts with which to construct another."

"Nonetheless, it is well worth the attempt," the princess declared.
"You will cast a spell on the robot, Guj, so that it stops."

He sighed. "Very well, Your Highness; I suppose I could manage that!"

Making the secular xa, he left the royal pair. Outside, his voice could
be heard bellowing in the anteroom, "Has any one of you squuch seen my
pliers?"

"There is no need for worry, Venerated Ancestor," the princess assured
the monarch. "All-Helpful Zen will aid me with my tasks."

Far away in his arcane retreat, the divinity groaned to himself.

       *       *       *       *       *

Another aspect of Zen's personality followed the two Earthmen as they
left the palace to supervise the erection of their prefab by the crew
of the spaceship in one of the Royal Parks. A vast crowd of Uxenach
gathered to watch the novelty, and among them there presently appeared
a sinister-looking old man with a red beard, whom Zen the Pansophic had
no difficulty in recognizing as the prime minister, heavily disguised.
Of course it would have been no trouble for Zen to carry out Guj's
mission for him, but he believed in self-help--especially on Thursdays.

"You certainly fixed us up fine!" Hammond muttered disrespectfully to
the professor. "You should've told the king we were inventing a vacuum
cleaner or something. Now they'll just be more curious than ever....
And I still don't see why you refused the priest. Seems to me he'd be
just what you needed."

"Yes, and the first to catch on to why we're here. We mustn't
antagonize the natives; these closed groups are so apt to resent any
investigation into their mythos."

"If it's all mythical, why do you need a scientist then?"

"A physical scientist, you mean," Kendrick said austerely. "For
anthropology is a science, too, you know."

Peter snorted.

"Some Earthmen claim actually to have seen these alleged
manifestations," Kendrick went on to explain, "in which case there must
be some kind of mechanical trickery involved--which is where you come
in. Of course I would have preferred an engineer to help me, but you
were all I could get from the government."

"And you wouldn't have got me either, if the Minister of Science didn't
have it in for me!" Peter said irately. "I'm far too good for this
piddling little job, and you know it. If it weren't for envy in high
places--"

"Better watch out," the professor warned, "or the Minister might decide
you're too good for science altogether, and you'll be switched to a
position more in keeping with your talents--say, as a Refuse Removal
Agent."

_And what is wrong with the honored art of Refuse Removal?_ Zen
wondered. There were a lot of mystifying things about these Earthmen.

       *       *       *       *       *

The scientists' quaint little edifice was finally set up, and the
spaceship took its departure. It was only then that the Earthmen
discovered that something they called cigarettes couldn't be found in
the welter of packages, and that the robot wouldn't cook dinner or, in
fact, do anything. _Good old Guj_, Zen thought.

"I can't figure out what's gone wrong," Peter complained, as he
finished putting the mechanical man together again. "Everything seems
to be all right, and yet the damned thing won't function."

"Looks as if we'll have to do the housework ourselves, confound it!"

"Uh-uh," Peter said. "You can, but not me. The Earth government put me
under your orders so far as this project is concerned, sir, but I'm not
supposed to do anything degrading, sir, and menial work is classified
as just that, sir, so--"

"All right, all _right_!" Kendrick said. "Though it seems to me if
_I'm_ willing to do it, _you_ should have no objection."

"It's your project, sir. I gathered from the king, though," Peter
added more helpfully, "that some of the natives still do menial labor
themselves."

"How disgusting that there should still be a planet so backward that
human beings should be forced to do humiliating tasks," Kendrick said.

_You don't know the half of it, either_, Zen thought, shocked all the
way back to his physical being. It had never occurred to him that the
functions of gods on other planets might be different than on Uxen ...
unless the Earthlings failed to pay reverence to their own gods, which
seemed unlikely in view of the respectful way with which Professor
Kendrick had greeted the mention of Zen's Awe-Inspiring Name. Then
Refuse Removal was not necessarily a divine prerogative.

_Those first colonists were very clever_, Zen thought bitterly,
_sweet-talking me into becoming a god and doing all their dirty work.
I was happy here as the Only Inhabitant; why did I ever let those
interlopers involve me in Theolatry? But I can't quit now. The Uxenach
need Me ... and I need incense; I'm fettered by my own weakness. Still,
I have the glimmerings of an idea...._

"Oh, how much could a half-witted menial find out?" Peter demanded.
"Remember, it's either a native servant, sir, or you do the housework
yourself."

"All right," Kendrick agreed gloomily. "We'll try one of the natives."

       *       *       *       *       *

So the next day, still attended by the Unseen Presence of Zen, they
sought audience with the prime minister.

"Welcome, Earthmen, to the humble apartments of His Majesty's most
unimportant subject," Guj greeted them, making a very small xa as he
led them into the largest reception room.

Kendrick absently ran his finger over the undercarving of a small gold
table. "Look, no dust," he whispered. "Must have excellent help here."

Zen couldn't help preening just a bit. At least he did his work well;
no one could gainsay that.

"Your desire," Guj went on, apparently anxious to get to the point, "is
my command. Would you like a rojh of dancing girls to perform before
you or--?"

"The king said something yesterday about servants being available,"
Kendrick interrupted. "And our robot seems to have broken down. Could
you tell us where we could get someone to do our housework?"

An expression of vivid pleasure illuminated the prime minister's
venerable countenance. "By fortunate chance, gentlemen, a small lot of
maids is to be auctioned off at a village very near the Imperial City
tomorrow. I should be delighted to escort you there personally."

"Auctioned?" Kendrick repeated. "You mean they _sell_ servants here?"

Guj raised his snowy eyebrows. "Sold? Certainly not; they are leased
for two years apiece. After all, if you have no lease, what guarantee
do you have that your servants will stay after you have trained them?
None whatsoever."

When the two scientists had gone, Iximi emerged from behind a
bright-colored tapestry depicting Zen in seven hundred and fifty-three
of his Attributes.

"The younger one is not at all bad-looking," she commented, patting her
hair into place. "I do like big blond men. Perhaps my task will not be
as unpleasant as I fancied."

Guj stroked his beard. "How do you know the Earthlings will select
_you_, Your Highness? Many other maids will be auctioned off at the
same time."

The princess stiffened angrily. "They'll pick me or they'll never leave
Uxen alive and you, Your Excellency, would not outlive them."

       *       *       *       *       *

Although it meant he had to overwork the other aspects of his multiple
personality, Zen kept one free so that the next day he could join
the Earthmen--in spirit, that was--on their excursion in search of a
menial.

"If, as an anthropologist, you are interested in local folkways,
Professor," Guj remarked graciously, as he and the scientists piled
into a scarlet, boat-shaped vehicle, "you will find much to attract
your attention in this quaint little planet of ours."

"Are the eyes painted on front of the car to ward off demons?" Kendrick
asked.

"Car? Oh, you mean the yio!" Guj patted the forepart of the vehicle.
It purred and fluttered long eyelashes. "We breed an especially bouncy
strain with seats; they're so much more comfortable, you know."

"You mean this is a _live_ animal?"

Guj nodded apologetically. "Of course it does not go very fast. Now if
we had the atomic power drive, such as your spaceships have--"

"You'd shoot right off into space," Hammond assured him.

"Speed," said Kendrick, "is the curse of modern civilization. Be glad
you still retain some of the old-fashioned graces here on Uxen. You
see," he whispered to his assistant, "a clear case of magico-religious
culture-freezing, resulting in a static society unable to advance
itself, comes of its implicit reliance upon the powers of an omnipotent
deity."

Zen took some time to figure this out. _But that's right!_ he
concluded, in surprise.

"I thought your god teleported things?" Peter asked Guj. "How come he
doesn't teleport you around, if you're in such a hurry to go places?"

Kendrick glared at him. "Please remember that I'm the anthropologist,"
he hissed. "You have got to know how to describe the Transcendental
Personality with the proper respect."

"We don't have Zen teleport animate objects," the prime minister
explained affably. "Or even inanimate ones if they are fragile.
For He tends to lose His Temper sometimes when He feels that He is
overworked--" _Feels, indeed!_ Zen said to himself--"and throws things
about. We cannot reprove Him for His misbehavior. After all, a god is a
god."

"The apparent irreverence," Kendrick explained in an undertone,
"undoubtedly signifies that he is dealing with ancillary or, perhaps,
peripheral religious beliefs. I must make a note of them." He did so.

       *       *       *       *       *

By the time the royal yio had arrived at the village where the
planetary auctions for domestics were held, the maids were already
arranged in a row on the platform. Most were depressingly plain
creatures and dressed in thick sacklike tunics. Among them, the
graceful form of Iximi was conspicuous, clad in a garment similar in
cut but fashioned of translucent gauze almost as blue as her eyes.

Peter straightened his tie and assumed a much more cheerful expression.
"Let's rent _that one_!" he exclaimed, pointing to the princess.

"Nonsense!" Kendrick told him. "In the first place, she is obviously
the most expensive model. Secondly, she would be too distracting
for you. And, finally, a pretty girl is never as good a worker as a
plain.... We'll take that one." The professor pointed to the dumpiest
and oldest of the women. "How much should I offer to start, Your
Excellency? No sense beginning the bidding too high. We Earthmen aren't
made of money, in spite of what the rest of the Galaxy seems to think."

"A hundred credits is standard," Guj murmured. "However, sir, there is
one problem--have you considered how you are going to communicate with
your maid?"

"Communicate? Are they mutes?"

"No, but very few of these women speak Earth." A look of surprise
flitted over the faces of the servants, vanishing as her royal highness
glared at them.

Kendrick pursed thin lips. "I was under the impression that the Earth
language was mandatory on Uxen."

"Oh, it is; it is, indeed!" Guj said hastily. "However, it is so
hard to teach these backward peasants new ways." One of the backward
peasants gave a loud sniff, which changed to a squeal as she was
honored with a pinch from the hand of royalty. "But you will not betray
us? We are making rapid advances and before long we hope to make Earth
universal."

"Of course we won't," Peter put in, before Kendrick had a chance to
reply. "What's more, I don't see why the Uxenians shouldn't be allowed
to speak their own language."

The princess gave him a dazzling smile. "Moolai Uxen! We must not allow
the beautiful Uxulk tongue to fall into desuetude. Bring back our
lovely language!"

Guj gestured desperately. She tossed her head, but stopped.

"Please, Kendrick," Peter begged, "we've got to buy that one!"

"Certainly not. You can see she's a troublemaker. Do you speak Earth?"
the professor demanded of the maid he had chosen.

"No speak," she replied.

Peter tugged at his superior's sleeve. "That one speaks Earth."

Kendrick shook him off. "Do you speak Earth?" he demanded of the second
oldest and ugliest. She shook her head. The others went through the
same procedure.

"It looks," Peter said, grinning, "as if we'll have to take mine."

"I suppose so," Kendrick agreed gloomily, "but somehow I feel no good
will come of this."

Zen wondered whether Earthmen had powers of precognition.

No one bid against them, so they took a two-year lease on the crown
princess for the very reasonable price of a hundred credits, and drove
her home with them.

Iximi gazed at the little prefab with disfavor. "But why are we halting
outside this gluu hutch, masters?"

Guj cleared his throat. "Sirs, I wish you joy." He made the secular xa.
"Should you ever be in need again, do not hesitate to get in touch with
me at the palace." And, climbing into the yio, he was off.

       *       *       *       *       *

The others entered the small dwelling. "That little trip certainly gave
me an appetite," Kendrick said, rubbing his hands together. "Iximi, you
had better start lunch right away. This is the kitchen."

Iximi gazed around the cubicle with disfavor. "Truly it is not much,"
she observed. "However, masters, if you will leave me, I shall endeavor
to do my poor best."

"Let me show you--" Peter began, but Kendrick interrupted.

"Leave the girl alone, Hammond. She must be able to cook, if she's a
professional servant. We've wasted the whole morning as it is; maybe we
can get something done before lunch."

Iximi closed the door, got out her portable altar--all members of the
royal family were qualified members of the priesthood, though they
seldom practiced--and in a low voice, for the door and walls were
thin, summoned Zen the All-Capable.

The god sighed as he materialized his head. "I might have known you
would require Me. What is your will, oh Most Fair?"

"I have been ordered to prepare the strangers' midday repast, oh
Puissant One, and I know not what to do with all this ukh, which they
assure me is their food." And she pointed scornfully to the cans and
jars and packages.

"How should _I_ know then?" Zen asked unguardedly.

The princess looked at him. "Surely Zen the All-Knowing jests?"

"Er--yes. Merely having My Bit of Fun, you know." He hastily inspected
the exterior of the alleged foods. "There appear to be legends
inscribed upon the containers. Perchance, were we to read them, they
might give a clue as to their contents."

"Oh, Omniscent One," the princess exclaimed, "truly You are Wise and
Sapient indeed, and it is I who was the fool to have doubted for so
much as an instant."

"Oh you doubted, did you?" Terrible Zen frowned terribly. "Well, see
that it doesn't happen again." He had no intention of losing his divine
authority at this stage of the game.

"Your Will is mine, All-Wise One. And I think You had best materialize
a few pair of arms as well as Your August and Awe-inspiring
Countenance, for there is much work to be done."

       *       *       *       *       *

Since the partitions were thin, Zen and the princess could hear most of
the conversation in the main room. "... First thing to do," Kendrick's
voice remarked, "is find out whether we're permitted to attend one
of their religious ceremonies, where Zen is said to manifest himself
actually and not, it is contended, just symbolically...."

"The stove is here, Almighty," the princess suggested, "not against the
door where you are pressing Your Divine Ear."

"Shhh. What I hear is fraught with import for the future of the planet.
Moolai Uxen."

"Moolai Uxen," the princess replied automatically.

"... I wonder how hard it'll be to crash the services," Kendrick went
on. "Most primitives don't like outsiders present at their ritual
activities."

"Especially if there _are_ actual manifestations of their god,"
Hammond contributed. "That would mean the priests are up to some sort
of trickery, and they wouldn't care to run the risk of having us see
through--"

He was interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen.

"Are you all right, Iximi!" he yelled. "Need any help?"

"All is well!" she called back. "But, I pray you, do not enter,
masters. The reverberation was part of a rite designed to deflect evil
spirits from the food. Were a heretic to be present or interrupt the
ceremonies, the spell would be voided and the food contaminated."

"Okay!" Peter returned and, in a lower tone, which he probably thought
she could not overhear, "Seems you were right."

"Naturally." There was complacency in the professor's voice. "And now
let us consider the validating features of the social structure as
related to the mythos--and, of course, the ethos, where the two are not
coincident--of the Uxenians...."

"Imagine," Zen complained in the kitchen, "accusing _Me_ of being a
mere trick of the priesthood--Supreme Me!"

"Supreme Butterfingers!" the princess snapped, irritation driving her
to the point of sacrilege. "You spilled that red stuff, the ..." she
bent over to read the legend on the container "... the ketchup all over
the floor!"

"The floor is relatively clean," Zen murmured abstractedly. "We can
scoop up the substance and incorporate it in whatever dainty dish we
prepare for the Earthlings' repast. Now they'll think that I, Zen the
Accessible, am difficult to have audience with," he mourned, "whereas I
was particularly anxious to hold converse with them and discover what
quest brings them to Uxen. That is," he added hastily, remembering he
was omniscient, "just how they would justify its rationale."

"Shall we get on with our culinary activities, Almighty One?" Iximi
asked coldly.

If the Most Fair and Exalted had a flaw, Zen thought, it was a
one-track mind.

       *       *       *       *       *

"What in hell did you put in this, Iximi?" Kendrick demanded, after
one taste of the steaming casserole of food which she had set proudly
before the two Earthmen.

"Ketchup, that's for sure...." Peter murmured, rolling a mouthful
around his tongue as he sought to separate its component flavors. "And
rhubarb, I should say."

"Dried fish and garlic...." Kendrick made further identifications.

"And a comestible called marshmallow," Iximi beamed. "You like it? I am
_so_ glad!"

"I do _not_--" Kendrick began, but Peter intervened.

"It's very nice, Iximi," he said tactfully, "but I guess we're just
used to old run-of-the-mill Earth cooking. It's all our fault; we
should have given you a recipe."

"I had a recipe," Iximi returned. "It came to me by Divine Inspiration."

Kendrick compressed his lips.

"Useful sort of divinity they have around here," Peter said.
"Everything that goes wrong seems to take place in the name of
religion. Are you sure you didn't happen to overhear us talking before,
Iximi?"

"Don't be silly, Hammond!" Kendrick snapped. "These simple primitives
do not have the sophistication to use their religious beliefs
consciously as rationalization for their incompetence."

"Even had I wished to eavesdrop," Iximi said haughtily, "I would hardly
have had the opportunity; I was too busy trying to prepare a palatable
repast for you and--" her voice broke--"you didn't like it."

"Oh, I did like it, Iximi!" Peter protested. "It's just that I'm
allergic to rhubarb."

"Wait!" she exclaimed, smiling again. "For dessert I have an especial
surprise for you." She brought in a dish triumphantly. "Is this not
just how you have it on Earth?"

"Stewed cigarettes with whipped cream," Kendrick muttered. "Stewed
cigarettes! Where on Ear--on Uxen did you find them?"

"In a large box with the other puddings," she beamed. "Is it not highly
succulent and flavorful?"

The two scientists sprang from their chairs and dashed into the
kitchen. Iximi stared after them. When they returned, they looked much
more cheerful. They seated themselves, and soon fragrant clouds of
smoke began to curl toward the ceiling.

_They are calling me at last_, Zen thought happily, _and with such
delightful incense! Who wants chants anyway?_

"But what are you _doing_!" the princess shrieked.

       *       *       *       *       *

Zen hastened to manifest himself, complete with fourteen nostrils,
before she could spoil everything. "The procedure is most unorthodox,"
he murmured aloud, "but truly this new incense has a most delicious
aroma, extremely pleasing to My Ego. What is your will, oh, strangers?"

"All-Merciful Zen," the princess pleaded, "forgive them, for they knew
not what they did. They did not mean to summon You."

"Then who," asked Zen in a terrible voice, "is this wonderful smoke
for? Some foreign god whom they worship on My Territory?" And he
wouldn't put it past them either.

Peter looked at the anthropologist, but Kendrick was obviously
too paralyzed with fright to speak. "As a matter of fact,
Your--er--Omnipotence," the physicist said haltingly, "this is not part
of our religious ritual. We burn this particular type of incense which
we call tobacco, for our own pleasure."

"In other words," Zen said coldly, "you worship yourselves. I work and
slave My Godhood to the bone only to have egotists running all over My
Planet."

"No, it's nothing like that at all," Kendrick quavered. "We smoke the
tobacco to--well--gratify our appetites. Like--like eating, you know."

"Well, you will have to forego that pleasure," Zen said, frowning
terribly. Even the tall one cowered, he noted with appreciation. It had
been a long time since people had really cringed before his frown. The
Uxenach had come to take him too much for granted; they would learn
their mistake. "From now on," he said portentously, "the tobacco must
be reserved for My Use alone. Smoke it only for purposes of worship.
Once a day will be sufficient," he added graciously, "and perhaps
twice on holy days."

"But we do not worship alien gods," Kendrick persisted in a shaky
voice. "Even if you _were_ a god...."

Zen frowned. "Would you care to step outside and test my divinity?"

"Well, no ... but...."

"Then, as far as you're concerned, I am Divine, and let's have no more
quibbling. Don't forget the tobacco once a day. About time I had a
change from that low-grade incense."

He vanished. Too late he remembered that he'd planned to ask the
Earthlings why they had come to Uxen, and to discuss a little
business proposition with them. Oh, well, time for that at his next
materialization for them. And, now that he considered the matter, the
direct approach might very well be a mistake.

He hoped Iximi would make sure they burned him tobacco
regularly--really good stuff; almost made godhood worthwhile. But then
he'd felt that way about incense at first. No, he had other ideas for
making divinity worthwhile, and Iximi was going to help him, even if
she didn't know it. People had used him long enough; it was his turn to
use them.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the kitchen, Iximi recalled Zen and together they washed the dishes
and listened to the scientists quarreling in the next room.

"You will note the use of incense as standard socio-religious
parallelism, Hammond. Men have appetites that must be gratified and so
they feel their supreme being must also eat ... only, being a deity, he
consumes aromas."

"Yes," Peter said. "You explained all that to Him much more succinctly,
though."

"Hah! Well, have you any idea yet as to how the trick was worked?"

"Worked? What do you mean?"

"How they made that talking image appear? Clever device, I must say,
although the Scoomps of Aldebaran III--"

"Didn't look like a trick to me."

"That's a fine young man," Zen said approvingly to Iximi. "I _like_
him."

"You really do, Most High? I am _so_ glad!"

"You don't mean you really believe this Zen is an actual living god?"
Kendrick spluttered.

There was a silence. "No, not a god," Peter said finally, "but not a
human, either. Perhaps another life-form with attributes different from
ours. After all, do we know who or what was on Uxen, before it was
colonized by Earth?"

"Tcha!" Kendrick said.

Iximi looked at Zen. Zen looked at Iximi. "The concept of godhood
varies from society to society," the divinity told the princess.
"Peter is not being sacrilegious, just manifesting a healthy
skepticism."

"You're a credulous fool," Kendrick said hotly to his assistant. "I
don't blame the Secretary for demoting you. When we return to Earth, I
shall recommend your transfer to Refuse Removal. You have no business
at all in Science!"

There was the sound of footsteps. "Leaving my noxious company?" Peter's
voice asked tightly.

"I am going out to the nearest temple to have a chat with one of the
priests. I can expect more sensible answers from him than from you!"
The outside door slammed.

"Speaking of Refuse Removal, Almighty," Iximi said to Zen, "would you
teleport the remains of this miserable repast to the Sacred Garbage
Dump? And you need not return; I'll be able to handle the rest myself."

"Moolai Uxen," Zen reminded her and vanished with the garbage, but,
although the refuse was duly teleported, the unseen, impalpable
presence of the god remained.

       *       *       *       *       *

The door to the kitchen opened, and Hammond walked in, his face grim.
"Need any help, Iximi?" he asked, not very graciously. "Or should I
say 'Your Royal Highness'?"

Iximi dropped a plate which, fortunately, was plastic. "How did you
know who I was?"

He sat down on a stool. "Didn't you remember that your portrait hung in
the great hall of the palace?"

"Of course," she said, chagrined. "A portrait of a servant would hardly
be hung there."

"Not only that, but I asked whom it depicted. Do you think I wouldn't
notice the picture of such a beautiful girl?"

"But if you knew, why then did you...?"

He grinned. "I realized you were up to no good, and I have no especial
interest in the success of Kendrick's project."

Iximi carefully dried a dish. "And what is his project?"

"To investigate the mythos of the allegedly corporeal divinity in
static primitive societies, with especial reference to the god-concept
of Zen on Uxen."

"Is that _all_?"

_All!_ Zen thought. _Sounds like an excellent subject for research to
me. Unfortunate that I cannot possibly let the study be completed, as I
am going to invalidate the available data very shortly._

"That's all, Iximi."

"And how is it that Professor Kendrick did not recognize me from the
picture?"

"Oh, he never notices girls' pictures. He's a complete idiot.... You
overheard us just now? When we get back to Earth, I'm going to be a
garbage collector."

"Here on Uxen, Refuse Removal is a Divine Prerogative," Iximi remarked.

"Poor Zen, whatever he is," Peter said to himself. "But a god, being a
god," he went on in a louder voice, "can raise himself above the more
sordid aspects of the job. As a mere human, I cannot. Iximi, I wonder
if...." He looked nervously at his watch. "I hope Kendrick takes his
time."

"He will not return soon," Iximi told him, putting away the dish
towel. "Not if he is determined to find a temple. Because there are no
temples. Zen is a god of the Hearth and Home."

"Iximi," Peter said, getting up and coming closer to her, "isn't there
some way I can stay here on Uxen, some job I can fill? You're the crown
princess--you must have a drag with the civil service." He looked at
her longingly. "Oh, if only you weren't so far above me in rank."

"Listen, Peter!" She caught his hands. "If you were the Royal
Physicist, our ranks would not be so far disparate. My distinguished
father would make you a duke. And princesses have often ..." she
blushed "... that is to say, dukes are considered quite eligible."

"Do you think I have a chance of becoming Royal Physicist?"

"I am certain of it." She came very close to him. "You could give us
the atomic drive, design space ships ... weapons ... for us, couldn't
you, darling?"

"I could." He looked troubled. "But it's one thing to become an
extraterrestrial, another to betray my own world."

Iximi put her arms around him. "But Uxen will be your world, Peter. As
prince consort, you would no longer be concerned with the welfare of
the Earthlings."

"Yes, but...."

"And where is there betrayal? We do not seek to conquer Earth or its
colonies. All we want is to regain our own freedom. We are entitled to
freedom, aren't we, Peter?"

He nodded slowly. "I ... suppose so."

"Moolai Uxen." She thrust a package of cigarettes into his hand. "Let
us summon the Almighty One to bless our betrothal."

Peter obediently lit two cigarettes and gave one to her.

       *       *       *       *       *

Zen materialized his head. "Blessings on you, my children," he said,
sniffing ecstatically, "and welcome, Holy Chief Physicist, to My
Service."

"_Royal_ Chief Physicist," Iximi corrected.

"No, that is insufficient for his merits. Holy and Sacrosanct Chief
Physicist is what he will be, with the rank of prince. You will have
the honor of serving Terrible Zen Myself, Peter Hammond."

"Delighted," said the young man dubiously.

"You will construct robots that do housework, vehicles that carry
refuse to the Sacred Garbage Dump, vans that transport household goods,
machines that lave dishes...."

"Will do," Peter said with obvious relief. "And may I say,
Your--er--Benignness, that it will be a pleasure to serve You?"

"But the atomic power drive ... freedom?" Iximi stammered.

"These will point the surer, shorter way to the true freedom. My
Omnidynamism has stood in the way of your cultural advancement, as
Professor Kendrick will undoubtedly be delighted to explain to you."

"But, Your Omnipotence...."

"Let us have no more discussion. I am your God and I know best."

"Yes, Supreme One," Iximi said sullenly.

"You Uxenach have kept Me so busy for thousands of years, I have had
no time for My Divine Meditations. I shall now withdraw Myself from
mundane affairs."

The princess forgot disappointment in anxiety. "You will not leave us,
Zen?"

"No, My child, I shall be always present, watching over My People,
guiding them, ready to help them in case of emergency. But make sure I
am not summoned save in case of dire need. No more baby-sitting, mind
you."

"Yes, Almighty One."

"The incense will continue to be offered to me daily by everyone who
seeks My Sacred Ear, and make sure to import a large quantity of this
tobacco from Earth for holy days ... and other occasions," he added
casually, "when you wish to be especially sure of incurring My Divine
Favor. And I wish to be worshipped in temples like other gods." _Less
chance of my being stuck with some unexpected household task._ "I shall
manifest Myself on Thursdays only," he concluded gleefully, struck
by the consummate idea. "Thursday will be My Day to work and your
holy day. All other days you will work, and I will indulge in Divine
Meditation. I have spoken."

And he withdrew all aspects of his personality to his retreat to
wallow in the luxury of six days off per week. Naturally, to make sure
the Uxenach kept the incense up to scratch, he would perform a small
miracle now and again to show he was still Omnipresent.

Being a god, he thought as he made himself more comfortable, was not a
bad thing at all. One merely needed to learn how to go about it in the
right way.





