Free Backshot by Dan Cragg, David Sherman Page B

in the hospitable soils. Those early settlers established a self-sustaining colony and eventually their descendants transformed Atlas into a member of the Confederation of Worlds known for its agricultural products. Grains that had become almost extinct on Earth thrived on Atlas, as did the industry that distilled alcohol from corn, mash, and rye—old-fashioned bourbon was one of Atlas’s leading exports.
    The Atleans sustained themselves by growing and raising things. Hunger was unknown, and despite several wars over the recent decades, the granaries of Atlas had never run out. Atlas was the breadbasket in its quadrant of Human Space, and its exports were highly prized. The Atleans were, of necessity, very careful to guard against the import of plant and animal species that could upset the balance of nature they’d achieved on their world. Thus all off-world arrivals and their baggage were subjected to thorough inspection and decontamination. Imports were likewise subjected to rigorous irradiation before being released to their markets. Ships and their crews transiting Atlas for whatever reason were simply quarantined at their ports of entry and the Atleans who worked there submitted to decontamination before going home at the end of their shifts. As is true anywhere, customs could be bypassed as officials looked the other way, but irradiation could not, and the penalty for trying to avoid it was death. These harsh rules were strictly enforced, but again and again they had successfully prevented alien infestations that might have ruined the crops and livestock so necessary to Atlas’s economic viability.
    Because Atlas was primarily an agricultural world with not much heavy industry, and what industry it had was stringently regulated, the natural environment remained largely undisturbed. The planet’s beaches, mountains, lakes, oceans, and national parks were renowned throughout Human Space for their pristine beauty. The cities on the planet were small, clean, and comfortable places to live, and people came to Atlas just to get away from the hubbub of their native worlds, to enjoy the good food the Atleans were so proud of, and the natural wonders of the planet. Tourism flourished on Atlas.
    Ramuncho’s Restaurant, New Granum, Union of Margelan, Atlas
    Ramuncho served the dalmans right out of their shells, piping hot just the way Jorge Lavager liked them, but they were also excellent cold and in salads, served as a main course with side dishes, or as appetizers.
    Dalmans ( Dalmanantes postii ) were arthropoid creatures resembling the trilobites that once swam in Earth’s Paleozoic seas. Dalmans lived in the littorals in the Great Northern Sea a few hundred kilometers from New Granum. The Atleans raised them in huge seawater lakes and exported them to other worlds where they were highly prized delicacies. But Ramuncho bought his dalmans right off the docks from the fishing fleets and Lavager ate only those, freshly caught in the ocean. Ramuncho had a special arrangement with Lavager to inform him first when a new shipment of dalmans arrived in his kitchens. A mature dalman could provide up to two kilos of indescribably delicious meat while their larvae, harvested in vast quantities, added an ineffable flavor to salads and soups. The Union of Margelan had for many years enforced a policy of restocking the dalmans in their natural habitat, which insured a virtually inexhaustible supply of the creatures, much to the delight of gastronomes throughout Human Space. A half kilo of dalman meat on Earth could fetch up to a thousand credits, a bargain, and connoisseurs were delighted to pay it. Craaack! Lavager broke the carapace with a small hammer and then pried it open with a special set of tongs, essential tools for a dalman meal. The most delightful aroma filled the small back room as the steaming meat inside the shell was exposed. “Ahhhh,” Lavager said as he inhaled the sweet essence, “this is living, eh, Locker?”