JACK VANCE The Sub-Standard Sardines Banish evil from the world? Nonsense! Encourage it, foster it, sponsor it. The world owes Evil a debt beyond imagination. Think! Without greed ambition falters. Without vanity art becomes idle musing. Without cruelty benevolence lapses to passivity. Superstition has shamed man into self-reliance and, without stupidity, where would be the savor of superior understanding?
MAGNUS RIDOLPH
MAGNUS RIDOLPH lay on a deck-chair, a green and orange umbrella bearing the brunt of the African sunlight. The table beside him supported a smouldering cigar, Shemmlers News
Discussions turned face downward, a glass containing ice and a squeezed half-lime. In short, a picture of relaxation, idyllic peace … The transgraf clanged from within.
After a restless interval Magnus Ridolph arose, entered the apartment, took the message from the rack. It read:
Dear Magnus,
My chef’s report on tomorrow’s dinner—broiled grouse with truffles and compote of Marchisand cherries, Queen Persis salad, Sirius Fifth artichokes. A subsidiary report of my own—wines from three planets, including an incredible Fragence claret, a final course of canned sardines.
If you are free, I’d like your verdict on the menu—especially the sardines, which are unusual.
Joel Karamor.
. . .
