 Where are the two thousand students being shipped to?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1962. I Second Secretary Magnan took his green-lined cape and orange-feathered beret from the clothes tree. "When I first came here, the Manpower Utilization Directorate, Division of Libraries and Education was a shambles. Frankly, I question the wisdom of placing you in charge of such a sensitive desk, even for two weeks. "I see they're sending two thousand students to d'Land," Retief said, glancing at the Memo for Record. "The Bogans have launched no less than four military campaigns in the last two decades. Now, perhaps, we shall see them breaking that precedent and entering into the cultural life of the Galaxy." "Breaking and entering," Retief said. That's an industrial world of the poor but honest variety." "Our function is merely to bring them together. And remember: here at Corps HQ, all eyes are upon you." The wine crop is just about ready. We've turned all the land area we've got into parks and farms. Five of 'em. Blue-black sky, stars visible all day. Lots of skiing, bob-sledding, ice skating; and it's the season for woodworkers. Our furniture—" "I've seen some of your furniture," Retief said. The theatres are set up on the sand, or anchored off-shore. You have the music and the surf and the bonfires and stars—we're close to the center of a globular cluster, you know...." Fruit, grain, that kind of thing; getting it in doesn't take long. But this year...." Course, I'm only twenty-eight; I can't remember but two other harvests. Picking Bacchus grapes isn't a job you can turn over to machinery—and anyway we wouldn't if we could. Miles and miles of vineyards covering the mountain sides, and crowding the river banks, with gardens here and there. Big vines, eight feet high, loaded with fruit, and deep grass growing between. There's prizes for the biggest day's output, bets on who can fill the most baskets in an hour.... The sun's high and bright, and it's just cool enough to give you plenty of energy. Come nightfall, the tables are set up in the garden plots, and the feast is laid on: roast turkeys, beef, hams, all kinds of fowl. Fresh-baked bread ... and wine, plenty of wine.
 Croanie
 MUDDLE  Earth  Boge  Croanie