I Will Fear No Evil

15

Security check took little time; Salomon was known to the enclave guards and the copter was expected. It was a short walk from the landing to Salomon's house but, as in all upper-class enclaves, inhabitants in sight outdoors pretended not to see them. The door opened to Jake's voice and again they were private.

Joan Eunice took off her street robe and handed it to Jake, saying, "May I look around? Jake, it's been years since I've been here; you've made changes."

"Some. Moved my personal gear to the Gib or to your house, not much left but furniture which I'll sell with the house. Oh, I keep some clothing and toilet articles here, and I can find us a drink and a tin of biscuits. Perhaps smoked oysters or caviar; we have to kill an hour or two. Or I could send out for dinner."

"Let me see what there is in your kitchen; I would enjoy playing housewife. And I do want to look around."

"Look all you like, but tell me what you want to drink. Joan, have you ever been in a kitchen?"

"None of your lip, lad; I'm a good cook. Mama taught me to make Apfelstrudel—dough you could read print through and so light it melted in your mouth—before you were born. Sherry, or a Dubonnet highball—no Schnaps, I'm not risking it yet."

"I'll stack my kosher cooking against your Bavarian messes any day, girl. The Goyim can't cook the way the Chosen People can."

"Oh, pooh, you fake Jew. You haven't tasted my pot roast with noodles. I bached between wives—and cooks—and mistresses, and I always cooked. Jake, wouldn't it be fun to cook for each other and swap recipes? We could do it here. I don't dare enter my own kitchen; Della would faint."

"Might be fun. We can eat my cooking when your boasts don't pan out. Excuse me; I'll see what liquor there is."

Joan Eunice headed straight for the master bedroom. (Eunice, is this one of the places?) (Of course. See that sag in the bed? Boss, this is the only place we managed an all-night. Heavenly!) (‘All night?' Then his mobiles do more than suspect; they know.) (Oh, they may suspect but it doesn't matter. Charlie isn't interested in women, and Rockford—well, he's on my team. He approves of anything immoral, illegal, or dishonest—and my conduct was all three, by his standards. He's an atavism. But the all-night—I doubt if they suspected. We used more fan-dancing to keep it out of their sight than Joe's sight—things involving two hired Brink's cars and a non—existent errand for you.) (How did you fan-dance it for Joe?) (Didn't. I thought up a story and told Jake I would use it—then told Joe that I had met a man I wanted to speed a night with… did he mind if I was away Friday night?)

(As simple as that?) (Yes, Boss. We both were free but we were careful never to hurt each other. Only a second-class contract—since I was licensed for children and Joe was not. Either of us could have registered a dissolution on three days' notice.)

(But what did Joe say?) (Nodded and went on painting. He kissed me good-bye and told me to have fun; Joe was always sweet. But he may not have missed me. He was painting from a new model, a beautiful boy who was a frimp type. Joe may have been changing his luck; he sometimes did.)

(And you didn't mind?)

(That beautiful boy? Boss, you've got to move into the twenty-first century, now that you're me. What possible harm? I've told you and told you that Joe and I were always careful of each other's happiness; what more could I ask? Besides, I don't know that Joe had his eye on him other than as a model but—well, if they had invited me to move to Troy with them, I wouldn't have minded, for a night or two. I've always preferred older men—but the boy was pretty as a Palomino and clean as a sterilized cup; I wouldn't have found it boring. Plus the fact that a woman is flattered if two males like her enough to let her watch what they do.)

(Eunice my love, you continue to startle me. That angle I would never have thought of. Yes, I guess it would be a compliment, in a way. I think that men—even men today—are shyer about such things than women are.)

(Men are horribly shy, Boss—whereas women usually are not. We just pretend to be, when it's expected of us. Look, a woman is a belly with a time bomb inside, and women know it and can never get away from it. They either quit being shy—no matter how they behave to please men—or they go crazy; it's the choice we have to make. And high time you made that choice, dear. Accept your femaleness and live with it. Be happy.) (I think 1 have.) (You're coming along. But sometimes it feels like the bravado of a little boy who says, 1 am not either scared!' when he's ready to wet his pants, he's so frightened.) (Well, maybe. But I've got you holding my hand.) (Yes, dearest. Mama will take care of you.)

Joan went into Jake's bathroom, primarily to snoop. She had just found something she half expected to find—when she heard Jake's voice. "Hey! Where are you? Oh! Coming, or going? Fixed you Chablis over ice, best I could do."

"That'll do fine. Jake. Was this hers?" She held up a luxurious negligee—two ounces of cobweb.

Jake gulped. "Yes. Sorry."

"I'm not sorry." Suddenly Joan stripped off the Cling­Ons, shoved down her frill-skirt panties and stepped out of them, leaving her bare from sandals to eyebrows, put on the negligee. "Do I wear it the way she would? Wups, I wrapped it man-style." She rewrapped the lap-over to the left. "Do I do her justice?"

"Eunice! Eunice?'

She folded it back, let it slither to the floor, went into his arms, let him sob against her face: "That's enough, darling, Eunice doesn't want you to cry. Eunice wants you to be happy. Both Eunice and Joan Eunice. Hold me tight, Jake. We're lost and lonely—and all we have is each other." While she cuddled him and soothed him, she opened the zipdown of his shirt. (Eunice, I'm scared!) (Easy does it, dear. Chant the Money Hum to yourself; I've taken over. Om Mani Padme Hum.) (Om Mani Padme Hum. Om Mani—)

Joan was jerked out of it by the telephone signal. She pulled her mouth from Jake's and started to cry. "Oh, damn!"

Jake said huskily, "Ignore it. It's a mistake, no one knows I'm here."

"Uh—If we don't answer, they'll try again and interrupt us again. I'll take care of it, dear. Where is the pesky thing?

Living room?"

"Yes, but there's an extension over there."

"Keep thinking nice thoughts." Joan hurried over, high heels tapping, stood close to the pickup so that only her face would be seen, flipped the switch—said in Eunice's most crisp secretarial voice: "Mr. Salomon's residence. Who is calling?"

The screen stayed blank. "Recorded. Urgent call for Counselor Salomon, third attempt."

"Urgency noted. Proceed. Who is calling?"

Another voice came on, screen still blank. "This is Mr. Salomon's answering service. Judge McCampbell has placed an urgent call. I told the Judge that the Counselor was more likely to be at his club or at the Johann Smith residence, but he insisted that I keep trying this code, too. Is he there?"

"One moment." Joan glanced back, noted with annoyance that Jake had closed his shirt and picked up her clothes. "I have Mr. Salomon. Can you reach Judge McCampbell? I will hold."

"Thank you. One moment."

Joan stepped still closer and tilted the pickup to make certain that it caught only her face. Jake stepped up by her, handed her her clothes. She accepted them, did not, put them on.

The screen lighted. "Jake, we— Hey! Brother Schmidt!"

"Alec! How nice!"

"Step back so I can see you, dear. Mac, don't shove,"

Train added as the Judge's face appeared by his in the screen. "Is Jake there?"

"Right beside me, boys."

"All I can see is his shirt. Stand on a box, honey, so that you're both on screen; this must be a four-way conference. Or back away."

"Here he is." Joan tilted the pickup higher, reluctantly pressed the cups to her breasts, stepped into her frill-skirt, wiggled it into place. Then she backed off. "Can you see me now?"

"Not well enough," the Judge's resonant baritone answered. "Jake, back off a little. Joan, you need a stool.

Better yet, Jake, hold her up in your arms—you lucky man."

"What's the message, gentlemen? And, thank you Judge, for your flitter. We were delivered quickly and safely."

"De nada, compadre. Jake, my old roomie got a brilliant idea—no doubt through long association with me." The Judge explained what each was willing to do in order to speed confirmation of Joan's identity. "This can be our comm center. I am going to live in my chambers a few days—ready to issue a warrant, phone a judge in another jurisdiction or whatever. Then we'll rush it through my court and crowd them into an appeal—get this nailed down tight. Meanwhile Alec is your man Friday. Want him to go anywhere in a hurry? He's stupid but healthy, and losing a night's sleep to time-zone changes is good for him."

"Probably not before morning. But I'm relieved, gentlemen; I've been wondering how I could be everywhere 1 need to be. Since I'm retired from everything but Joan's personal affairs, I'm without staff—and I've been cudgeling my brain trying to think whom I could get who would be reliable and competent. As we all know, this is touchy."

"We know!" agreed Alec. "And we're going to fix those harpies—aren't we, Mac?"

"Yes—but legally and so that it cannot be reversed. Jake, you can reach us here—and don't hesitate to wake us if you decide you want Alec to catch a midnight liner. Where will you be? Your house?"

"Until my car arrives; then we'll be at Joan's. Or on our way. My answering service can flip you into my car's wavelength. It's a longish drive."

"We'll be in touch. Don't worry, Jake, and don't let Joan worry. We'll have her baptized before you can say ‘missing heir.'

"I'm not worried," said Joan, "but I feel like crying. Boys—Brothers—how can 1 thank you?"

"Shall we tell her, Mac? Would she blush? Thank me, that is, Brother Schmidt; don't thank Brother Mac; he's just doing his duty, what the taxpayers reluctantly pay him for. But you can thank me—I'ma volunteer."

"I'll thank you both, in whatever way you wish," Joan said, simply.

"You heard that, Mac? Brother Schmidt committed herself—and you can't break a promise between Brothers, that's the old Bita Pi law. Brother Schmidt Joan Eunice honey, back off and let us see all of you. Jake, get out of pickup; you ruin the composition. Go have a beer. Take a nap."

"Ignore him, he¹s drunk." advised his former roommate.

"So's Mac, we've been working on it. But I'm not too drunk to hop a guided missile, Jake, if you say to."

"Jake," said the. Judge, "this is getting out of hand. Not that I disagree with this low forehead's enthusiasm. Good night, sir. Good night, Joan. Off."

Joan Eunice flipped the switch, made certain that the screen was dead, started undressing.

"Joan. Stop that."

She went on removing her saucy, scanty clothing, heeled off her sandals, then stood facing him. "Jake, I refuse to be treated like a porcelain doll. You hid me expecting to be treated as a woman."

He sighed. "I know. But the golden moment passed."

"Well... I'm not going to dress. You've seen this body many times, we both know—and I want us both to get easy about it. Actually I'm shy, Jake; I'm only weeks old, as a woman, and not used to it. But I want to get used to it. With you."

"Well— As you wish, dear; you know how beautiful I think you are. What shall we do? Read aloud to each other till my car arrives? Watch video?"

"Beast. If you were a gentleman you would at least take your clothes off. Instead you are a difficult, stubborn beast and I don't know why I love you. Except that Eunice loved you—loves you, wherever she is—so I have to love you. Jake, if you won't take me to bed, at least sit down in that big chair and let me crawl up into your lap. We can talk. We'll talk about Eunice."

He sighed. "Girl, you'll give me a heart attack yet. All right, come curl up in my lap. On one condition."

"Jake, I'm not sure I'll agree to any conditions. I'm in a very unstable state."

"You certainly are, dear. But it's my lap. No ticky, no washee."

"I should go back to the courthouse; I don't think Mac and Alec would insist on conditions. .Might as well relax, Jake; I'm climbing into your lap with no more yatter. There! That's better. Arms around me, please."

"First the condition. That you not try to rape me in a chair—"

"Don't think I could."

"You'd be surprised what can be done in a chair, Joan."

"Would not, I've done ‘em all. As Johann. But they require cooperation."

"Mmm, so they do—and that, as soon as my car arrives, you dress at once and no nonsense, and we go home."

"All right—since you made that ‘we.' I was afraid you were feeling ornery enough to send me home alone. In which case I was going to have Rockford and Charlie take me straight back to Alec and Mac. Aren't they delightful wolves, Jake? Hold me tight. The only way you can protect me from them is you-know-what."

"Hmm. Joan, can you keep a chuckle to yourself?"

"Well...I promise never to tell anyone but Eunice."

"Eh? Okay, I don't think you would break a promise made that way. But, let me add that if you did tell, it would hurt Alec and Mac both—and Eunice would not like that."

"No, Eunice certainly would not like that. Jake, you're going to be able to hogtie me with that phrase the rest of my life." (Don't fret, Boss honey. Any time Jake is wrong, I'll give you the ammo to change his tune.) "All right, I'll tell no one but Eunice—and the old Man with the long white beard next time I see Him."

"Safe enough. Okay, here's the chuckle. Your two charming wolves—and they are charming—are as gay as Julius Caesar."

"What? Jake, I have trouble believing that."

"I won't offer proof but I assure you that I know it beyond any reasonable doubt."

"But— Look, dear, I've kissed them. I may be an ersatz female... but not where it matters, and I know those kisses weren't phony. They were hot over me. Shucks, darling, I could tell it by Braille. Besides, they are married."

"I said, ‘As gay as Julius Caesar,' dear—not Governor Arkham."

"Oh. Ambi gay, you mean. I still have trouble believing it. Doesn't it show at all? Even in a kiss?" (I spotted it, Joan, the potential at least. But they're still wolves... and we may be back there someday. To thank them.) (Eunice, is that the only way a female can thank a man?) (That's the only convincing way, twin. This is news?) (No, beloved—but it was possible that your generation had learned something mine had not. They haven't. Not in anything you've told me. Just more open about it.)

"Joan, there is no way to spot it, if an ambi does not want it known. Either ambi, or clear over the line and no return. Look, when you were Johann, could you spot a virgin?"

"Jake, I'm not sure I ever met a virgin. But you have."

"You must mean someone we both know."

"Of course."

"Who? Winnie? Wouldn't have thought so. But she does blush easily."

"Not Winnie. If she is one, I didn't have her in mind." (You crawled out of that one!) (Winnie can tell her own secrets. Honey girl? Does Jake know about your baby?) (No, and we're not going to tell him!) (Didn't intend to, darling—just didn't want to be caught foolish.)

"Well, I can't guess. Who is this paragon?"

"Me."

"Uh— But—" Jake Salomon shut up.

"Sure, sure, dear—Johann was not, and Eunice was married. Not to mention an old wolf who tripped her." (I tripped him.) "But none of that applies to this new female in your lap. I'm a virgin. But would not have been, by now—I think—if that goddam phone hadn't sounded. Don Ameche should never have invented it;"

"Who's he? Some Russian? Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone."

"An obsolete joke, Jake—sorry. Ameche played Bell in a movie, oh, about the time you were three or four years old. But let's not talk about long-dead actors, nor my virginity that I can't get rid of; let's discuss Eunice." (My favorite subject!) "That overhead light is in my eyes; where can I squeeze it down? And will you keep your lap warm while I trot and do it?"

"I can do it from here. Is that better?"

"Oh, much! I want to see you, darling—but floor lights are enough. Now tell me about Eunice. I not only want to be like her in other ways... but I would like to learn to make love-the way she did. As much as you'll tell me."

"Joan, you know I can't tell such things about a lady."

"But I am Eunice, Jake. I just don't have her memory. So I need help. Eunice loved you, and still loves you, I feel certain—and Joan Eunice loves you—with a love not at all like the fierce affection Johann always had for his one friend—Joan Eunice loves you with a love that comes also from Eunice's sweet body that I wear so proudly. So tell me about her. Was she as eager as I am?"

"Uh—" (Slide your hand inside his shirt, twin. Be careful not to tickle.) "Joan, Eunice was eager. 1 had trouble believing it at first—me an old wreck and she so young and beautiful. But she managed to make me believe it."

"But you are no: an old wreck, darling. You are in better shape than I was at your age. Oh, your face has character lines; it has a granite majesty that impresses everyone. But your body is as firm and trim as a man half your age. Muscley. And your skin is smooth and elastic, not that distressing crepelike texture I remember too well. Darling even if you divorce me later, will you marry me soon enough to let me have your baby?" (Hon, you're knocking him out of the ring! That's one I never dared use.)

"Eunice! Joan Eunice."

"Oh, I don't mean soon enough for you—Imean soon enough for me. I may have fifteen more fertile years—but the sooner the better; a woman ought not to have her first baby at past forty. But you will be making babies as long as you live. How many children do you have, Jake beloved?"

"Three. You met two of them once. And four grandchildren."

"I don't mean those, I mean others. I'll bet you have at least a dozen more, here and there. You've been rich a long time; you could afford it. How many that you haven't mentioned?"

"Joan Eunice, that's snoopy."

"Yes, and no one has to answer, that sort of question. But didn't Eunice ever ask?" (I did and I think he fibbed. I want to hear what he says this time.)

"Uh—"

"I won't tell anybody but Eunice. Not even the old Man with the book."

"You insidious little cuddle puppy. I think I have four more. Plus one by a married lady who may have been kidding me. Three I supported until they were on their own; the fourth—and that possible fifth—I couldn't even offer to. But they were never in want."

"How was it handled, dear? Three maiden ladies who moved elsewhere and became overnight widows?"

"Uh... only in one case. I offered to marry her—I was a grass widower then—but she elected not to, and did marry later and her husband adopted the child and I made a cash settlement. The other similar case I was married but the settlement was just as amicable. The other two were married. Some grief about one—she was a compulsive confesser, from which the good Lord deliver me!—and her husband had to be soothed with mucho dinero. The last—well, her husband was sterile—mumps—and together they picked a father. Me. Startled the hell out of me. But he offered to put it in writing and did. I tore it up and settled it with a handshake." (This is all news to me, Joan. But I couldn't believe that such a virile and charming man had left no by-blows. Keep him talking.)

Jake grinned and caressed her sweet body. "That is the only one I'm certain about, as I have never insisted on blood tests if a lady accused me and I could have been the man. But in that case I am certain, as we took a holiday together, by sailboat, with her husband as nominal chaperonage. So that time it was I, at the right time and place. Then—" He paused. "Joan Eunice, I don't know whether Johann would have approved of the sequel, or not but I don't want to shock the sweet girl you are now." (Honey, don't let him stop there!)

"Johann can't be shocked, Jake. If it's rough, I won't tell Eunice. But don't let me crowd you."

"Well... it wasn't rough, it was sweet. They didn't use me and drop me. I was welcome in their home thereafter and in their bed."

"Three in a bed?"

"Uh... don't be, nosy! Sometimes."

"But no more babies?"

"They were licensed for four and had them. But I think they picked a different father for each. I simply know that, in the several times I stayed in their home over about ten years, I never slept alone. I still get Christmas cards from them, each with a photograph of the family—and my daughter looks like her mother, not like me, thanks be to God. Joan, they were and are a respectable married couple, devout, and devoted to each other and to their children, and old-fashioned... except that, when they were faced with the need for a donor, they elected to pick donors themselves, then use the old-fashioned way rather than syringes and a clinical atmosphere."

"Uh....as she sweet in bed?"

"Quite. But unsophisticated. Not a patch on Eunice, if you were thinking about her."

"I was." (1 was!)

"Eunice—Eunice was the most glorious thing that could happen to a man. Sweet as an angel, and as skilled—and as uninhibited!—as the most famous courtesan in history." (I'm purring!)

"Jake. I prefer the old-fashioned way, too."

"Yes?"

"You were sweet to all those ladies and you got two unmarried ones pregnant and I'm rich enough to get away with it and right now you are feeling young—I know you are! Will you pick me up and carry me over there? Or shall I walk?"

"Eunice."

"Let's both walk. But hurry."

"Yes. Yes, darling."

She jumped up, took his hand...as the house intercom sounded with: "Mr. Salomon! Rockford here. Your car is waiting."

Joan said, "Oh, my God!" and started to cry.

Jake put his arm around her and petted her. "I'm sorry, darling."

"Jake. Tell them to go get dinner. Tell them to be back in, uh, two hours."

"No, dear."

She stomped her bare foot. "Jake, I won't, I won't! This is unbearable."

He said quietly, "You promised. Look, darling, I'm not nineteen years old and able to perform in back seats of cars or on back, porches with a party going on in the house. I have to have quiet and peace." (Don't believe him, dear! Though he might be scared off for a first time.) Joan bawled and shook her head. He spoke loudly:

"Rockford!"

"Yes, sir?"

"We'll be out in a moment or two. Keep the reactor warm."

He stepped to the wall and squeezed down the intercom to zero, then said gently, "Get dressed, dear."

"I won't! If we leave now, you'll have to stuff me into the car bare naked."

He sighed and picked her up; she stopped crying and looked suddenly happy.

The expression did not last. He turned her in his arms as he sat down on a straight chair, got a firm grip on her, and walloped her right buttock. She yelped. And struggled.

He got her more firmly, placing his right leg over both of hers, and applied his hand smartly to her left cheek. Then he alternated sides, stopping with ten. He set her on her feet and said, "Get dressed, dear. Quickly."

She stopped rubbing the punished area. "Yes, Jake."

Neither said another word until he had handed her into the car, climbed in after her, and they had been locked in. Then she said timidly, "Jake? Will you hold me?"

"Certainly, darling."

"May I take my robe off, please? Will you take it off me?"

With the robe out of the way she sighed and snuggled in. After a bit she whispered, "Jake darling? Why did you spank me?"

It was his turn to sigh. "You were being difficult... and it is the only thing I know of which will do a woman any good when a man can't do for her what she needs. And right then—I couldn't."

"I see. I think I do."

She remained quiet a while, enjoying his arms around her and breathing against his chest. Then she said, "Dear? Did you ever spank Eunice?"

"Once."

"For the same reason?"

"Not quite. Well, somewhat. She teased me into it." (I tickled him, dear. And got the surprise of my life.)

"Then I'm glad you spanked me, too. But I'll try not to tease you—though I'll never be the angel she was." (Fallen angel, Boss. And enjoyed it all, clear down to the Pit.)

"Jake?"

"Yes, Eunice?"

"I didn't really mind being spanked by you. Even when I was crying. But—Well, I'm padded now— Built to take a spanking. And when you are spanking me, you aren't ignoring me—and any attention is better than none. And besides—" She hesitated.

"Besides what, Eunice?"

"Well, I don't know—but I think it happened."

"What happened?"

"Female orgasm. Well, maybe. I don't know what one is supposed to feel like. But while I was crying and hurting; you have a heavy hand, sir—suddenly I felt very warm inside and something seemed to grow and explode—that's the best I can describe it. And I was ecstatically happy and didn't mind the last few wallops, hardly noticed them. Was that a female orgasm?"

"How would I know, dearest? Perhaps you'll be able to tell me. Later."

"Later tonight?"

"Uh, I think not, Eunice. It's late and we have had nothing to eat and I'm tired even if you aren't—"

"I am, rather. But happy."

"So tonight we'll rest. When it does happen—and I'm no longer fighting it—let's make the first time absolutely private and quiet. No phones and no servants and no distractions. After that—well, it might be target-of-oppor­tunity. But I'm not a kid. You know what I mean, darling; you've been old, too."

"Yes, dearest, much older than you are. Eunice can wait. Jake? What was this teasing Eunice did that was so bad it got her spanked?"

He suddenly grinned. "The little imp tickled me until I nearly went out of my mind. So I spanked her. But we were alone, and that ended satisfactorily. Quite."

"How?"

"How do you think? I excelled my usual mediocre performance, and Eunice—there aren't words for it, but she excelled her utter perfection, impossible as that sounds." (He darn near split me like a melon, twin—and I wanted him to!)

"So? Someday I will tickle you—and get spanked for it. So take your vitamins, dear. Jake, you enjoyed spanking me. Didn't you?"

He was silent several moments. "I enjoyed it so much that I spanked you neither as hard nor as long as I wanted to. And started feeling ‘young' as you put it—but knew that, if I didn't get you out of the house right then, you probably wouldn't leave at all. And I don't care to advertise it to servants."

"You had better marry me. So we can ignore servants."

"You had better shut up. You're still learning to be a girl, and I'm still learning how to handle you. You're Eunice—but you aren't Eunice. And we must clear up legal matters before we talk about such things."

"Old mean. Girl beater. Sadist. Hold me tight."