I Will Fear No Evil

16

Jake escorted Joan Eunice to her boudoir. Winnie was waiting there-to Joan's annoyance as she thought it possible that Jake's stern character might slip if the upper house was quiet. But she did not show it. "Hi, Winnie!"

"Miss Joan! Are you all right? I've been so worried!"

"Of course I'm all right; Mr. Salomon was taking care of me. Why were you worried, dear?"

"Why, the dreadful things they've been saying about you in the news and there was a riot at the Hall of Justice; I saw it. And—"

"Winnie, Winnie! The idiot box is for idiots; why do you look at it? I was never in danger."

"But she has had a trying day, so you take good care of her, Winnie."

"Oh, I will, sir!"

"And I am tired, too, so I'll say good-night and go to bed. After I find a sandwich, perhaps."

"Hubert put a tray in your suite, sir."

"Hubert gets another merit badge. Though to tell the truth, Winnie, I've had a worrisome day myself, and it's left me with little appetite and jangled nerves. I may dine on a sleeping pill."

"Jake dear—"

"Yes, Eunice?"

"Don't take a pill. And do eat."

"But—"

"I know, I'm a bundle of nerves myself. But I know what to do about it—and Winnie and I can soothe your nerves and restore your appetite and make you sleep like a baby."

He cocked one eyebrow, looked at Eunice, then at Winnie. "I think either of you could. But both?"

"Jake, you're a dirty-minded old man; you'll have Winnie blushing. But we can—can't we, Winnie? The Money Hum."

"Oh. Yes, we can, Mr. Salomon."

"Harrumph! Does it involve blood? Or broken bones?"

"Oh, no, sir! It's restful. Relaxing."

"I'll try anything once."

Joan said, "But you have to strip for it to—"

"I thought there was a catch."

"Oh, Jake. We'll let you sissy; you can wear shorts. We strip for it; the spiritual effect is better. It's the way we warm up for our exercises. Go undress; then put on shorts and a robe. We'll join you in the Green Suite. Right after it you're going to have a bite to eat and a tepid tub and straight to bed and right to sleep."

"Maybe I'd better bathe first. A day in court leaves me smelling like a skunk."

"You smell all right. Anyhow, Winnie and I have such control by now that we can decide not to be able to smell—or to hear a distracting noise, or anything—if we choose to."

"That's true, Mr. Salomon."

"Okay. Winnie, if she beats me, you protect me. Adios, dears."

"Five minutes, Jake."

As soon as they were alone Winifred said, "You're going to make me strip down bare? Again?"

"I didn't ‘make' you strip the first time. And dear Doctor certainly did notice that you are a girl. Looked to me as if the kiss he gave you was better than the one he gave me. Stop blushing. Winnie, you can sissy, too, if you want to—but I do need you -present. Or Jake will think I'm trying to make him."

"Oh, Mi. Salomon would never think that about you."

"He's male. He's as male as dear Doctor. I need chaperonage, as all I'm after is to help him sleep without pills. The poor dear has had a dreadful day. Winnie, he was wonderful in court; I'll tell you about it. Later. Let's get these duds off and grab negligees. Modest ones." Joan Eunice stopped suddenly. "Perhaps I've goofed. Winsome? Do you have a date?"

Miss Gersten blushed again. "Uh... not until later."

"Paul working late? Sorry—erase and correct. None of my business."

The little redhead continued to blush but she answered steadily, "My business is always your business, Miss Joan. Uh, I'm supposed to take care of you—and I do try! But you feel like a big sister to me."

"Thank you, sweet Winsome. But big sisters should not snoop."

"I've been meaning to tell you. Paul and I have split."

"Oh, I'm sorry"

"I'm not. I don't think Paul ever meant to get a dissolution; he was stringing me. But—well, Bob isn't married. Not yet."

"‘Not yet.' Planning on getting married, dear?"

"Well... I don't think getting married is something one plans. It just happens. Like thunderstorms."

"You could be right. Sweet, whether it's getting married, or fun and happiness, I hope it's perfect for you. And ‘Bob' is such a common name that I can't be tempted to guess. If I don't see him."

"You probably won't. He comes up the service lift and into my rooms from the back corridor—nobody sees him but the guard on duty. And they don't gossip."

"If any guard ever gossips about anything in this house, and I find it out, he'll be on Welfare so fast he'll be dizzy. Winnie, the rest of the staff can be human about it. But a guard is in a specially trusted position and must keep his mouth shut. Winnie, if you ever want to see Bob—or anyone—somewhere else, I'll have my mobile guards deliver you and pick you up, and even I won't know where."

"Uh....hank you. But this is the safest place for us—so few places are safe today. The most that can happen here is that Bob might be embarrassed. I wouldn't be embarrassed at all, I'm proud of him!"

"That's the way to feel, dear. As an ex-man I know that's the attitude a man values most in a woman. ‘Proud of him.' But let's hurry; we're keeping Jake waiting. If you're going to wear pants, better find some with stretch in them. And thank you for lending me this outfit—turned out that, without the apron and cap, it was still most effective. I had the robe off a while. Tell you later."

In moments the girls were hurrying down the corridor to the Green Suite, each just in a negligee and barefooted. At the last instant Winifred had decided that, if her mistress was going to practice meditation in the correct uniform, she would also.

They found the counselor in a bathrobe, looking sheepish. Joan said, "I hope we haven't kept you waiting. Is your tub ready? If not, I'm willing to draw it before we start. Then into it and out, don't risk falling asleep. Then—"

"I cheated. I took a quick tub—tepid, as you specified—and ate a little, too."

"Good. Then we'll pop you straight into bed after this and kiss you good-night and you'll be asleep before we're -out the door. Jake, this is the simplest of yoga, not exercise, just meditation. Controlled breathing, but the easiest sort. Inhale through one repetition of the prayer, hold it through one more. Exhale through one, hold through one, and repeat. All of us together, in a triangle. Can you sit in Lotus? Probably not unless you've practiced."

"Eunice—"

"Yes, Jake?"

"My father was a tailor. I was sitting in tailor's seat before I was eight. Will that do?"

"Certainly if you are comfortable. If not, any position that lets you relax. For you have to forget your body."

"Squatted in a tailor's position I can fall asleep. But what's this prayer?"

Joan Eunice slipped off her negligee, melted down onto the rug into meditation pose, soles upward on her thighs, palms upward in her lap. "It goes like this. Om Mani Padme Hum." (Om Math Padme Hum. I should have taught Jake this long ago.)

"I know the phrase. ‘The Jewel in the Lotus.' But what does it mean to you, Joan Eunice?"

Winifred had followed Joan's example as quickly as she set it, was bare and in Lotus—and not blushing. She answered, "It means everything and nothing, Mr. Salomon. It is all the good things you know of—bravery and beauty and gentleness and not wanting what you can't have and being happy with what you do have and trees swaying in the wind and fat little babies gurgling when you tickle their feet and anything that makes life good. Love. It always means love. But you don't think about it, you don't think at all, you don't even try not to think. You chant the prayer and just be—until you find yourself floating, all warm and good and relaxed."

"Okay, I'll try." He took off his bathrobe, had under it boxer's shorts. "Joan Eunice, when did you take up yoga? Winnie teach you?"

"Oh, no!" said Winifred. "Miss Joan taught me—she's much farther along the Path than I am."

(Watch it, Boss!) (No huhu, Lulu.) "One learns many things, Jake—and loses them for lack of time. I used to play chess, yet I haven't set up a board for fifty years. But for longer than that I could no longer even attempt a Lotus seat...until Eunice gave me this wonderful young body which can do anything."(Which shell is the pea under, Eunice?) (It'll be under you if you relax too much; you should have emptied our bladder.) (Never fear, dear. I shan't go under, must watch Jake.) "Join us, lake. You lead, Winnie; start as soon as Jake is in position."

Salomon started to sit on the floor, suddenly stopped and got out of his shorts. Joan was delighted, taking it as a sign that he had decided to give in to it all the way. But she did not let her serene expression change nor move her eyes. Winifred was staring at her navel; if she noticed it, she did not show it.

"Inhale," Winifred said softly. "Om Mani Padme Hum. Hold. Om Mani Padme Hum. Breath out. Om Mani Padme Hum. Hold."

(Out Mani Padme Hum. Dig that clamdigger, dearie?) (Shut up! You'll ruin the mood. Om Moni Padme Hum.)

"Om Moni Padme Hum!" said Salomon in a voice that would have graced a cathedral. "Om Moni Padme Hum!"

"Winnie darling" Joan said softly. "Let it fade and wake up wide. We're going to have to wake Jake."

The redhead's eyes fluttered, she whispered one more prayer and waited. "Jake darling," Joan said softly, "Eunice is calling. Wake just enough to let us help you into bed. Eunice is calling you back. Jake dearest."

"I hear you, Eunice."

"How do you feel?"

"Eli? Relaxed. Wonderful. Much rested but ready to sleep. Say, it does work. But it's just autohypnosis."

"Did I even hint that it was anything else? Jake, I don't expect to find God by staring into my belly button. But it does work...and it's better than forcing your body with drugs. Now let Winnie and me help you into bed."

"I can manage."

"Of course you can but I don't want the relaxation to wear off. Indulge me, Jake, let us baby you. Please."

He smiled and let them—slid onto the opened bed, let them cover him, smiled again when Joan Eunice gave him a motherly good-night kiss, seemed unsurprised when Winifred followed her mistress's example—turned on his side and was asleep as the girls left the room.

"Don't bother," Joan said as Winifred started to put on her negligee, "It's my house and no one comes upstairs after dinner unless sent for. Except Hubert and I assume that Jake sent him to bed, knowing that he was to be called on by two tarts in three quarter time and not much else." She slid an arm around the redhead's slender waist. "Winnie, much as I like to dress up—isn't it nice to wear just skin?"

"I like it. Indoors. Not outdoors, I sunburn so badly."

"What about at night? When I was a boy, ages and ages ago, it got unbearably hot in July and August where we lived—the sidewalks used to burn my bare feet. Houses were bake ovens even at night—no air-conditioning. An electric fan was a luxury most people did not have. Nights when I couldn't sleep because of heat I used to sneak quiet as a mouse and bare as a frog out the back door, being oh so careful not to let my parents hear, and walk naked in the dark, with grass cool on my feet and the soft night breeze velvet on my skin. Heavenly!"

"It sounds heavenly. But I would be terrified of getting mugged."

"The word ‘mug' hadn't been invented, much less any fear of it. I was a middle-aged man before I became wary of the dark." They turned into the master bedroom. "Kiss me good-night, Winsome, and go keep your date. Sleep late in the morning; I'm going to."

"Uh, my date isn't until after midnight. Aren't you going to tell me what happened today?"

"Why, of course, dear. Thought you might be in a hurry. Come take a bath with me?"

"If you want me to. I bathed after dinner."

"And you have your face on for your date. I bathed this morning but it seems a week ago. Sniff me and tell me how badly I stink."

"You smell all right. Luscious."

"Then I'll let it go with toothbrush and bidet and a swipe at my armpits; I'd rather go to bed."

"You haven't had dinner."

"Not all that hungry. Just happy. Is there milk in my bedroom fridge? Milk and crackers is all I want. Want to join me with a glass for yourself and get crumbs in bed and talk girl talk? Things I can't mention to dear Jake now that I'm a girl and not mean, old, cantankerous Johann."

"Joanie, I don't believe you ever were cantankerous."

"Oh, yes, I was, hon. I hurt most of the time and was depressed all of the time and wasn't fit to live with. But Joan Eunice is never depressed; her bowels are too regular. Scrounge us two glasses of milk and a box of crackers while I take a pretend bath. Don't go downstairs; there will be something over there in the iron rations. Fig newtons, maybe, or vanilla wafers."

Soon they were sitting, munching, in the big bed while Joan Eunice gave an edited account of the day: "—so we visited in Judge Mac's chambers and let the car go ahead, as Judge Mac the sweet darling wouldn't hear of my leaving through the streets. Even though the phony riot was over. Then we switched from copter to car at Safe Harbor and came home." (Protecting her ‘innocence,' twin?) (Not bloody likely. Protecting Jake's reputation.)

"But the best part of the day was when I took off that street robe and let ‘em look at the Acapulco outfit you dressed me in. Made ‘em go ape, dear."

"‘Ape?'"

"Out-of-date slang. They dropped one wing and ran in circles, like a rooster about to tread a strange hen."

"It wasn't the outfit, it was you."

"Both. Eunice Branca had a heavenly body and I'm doing my best to justify it. With your help. As may be, both those darling men kissed me the nearest thing to rape I've encountered."

"Better than Dr. Garcia?"

"I don't think Dr. Garcia gave me his all out best. I think he was inhibited by surprise and by the presence of a redheaded nurse I could name. But these two weren't inhibited and had a couple of drinks in them and each was going his damedest to do better than the other one. Whew! Winnie, I do not exaggerate—if Jake hadn't been there, I think they would have had me down on the rug for a gang bang in two seconds."

"Uh... would you have struggled?" (Going to be truthful, tart?) (Who taught me to be a tart? Any reason not to tell her, Eunice?) (None. Except that she's likely to rape you herself.) (Oh, pooh, she's just killing time till her date.) (Don't say I didn't warn you.)

"Winnie, if I were a real lady, I would be horrified. But I won't pretend with my chum. I don't know much about being female but I seem to have strong instincts. Cross my heart, if either of those sweet men had given me a gentle shove, I would have landed on that rug with my legs open and eyes closed. Gang bang? By then I felt ready to take on a regiment."

Winifred said thoughtfully, "It happened to me once."

"A regiment?"

"No. A gang bang."

"Well, let's shoe the crumbs out of bed and squeeze down the lights and snuggle and you tell big sister. Were they mean to you?"

"Not really. Oh, dear, I'm blushing already. Turn off everything but one floor light and let me tell it against your neck."

"That better?"

"Yes."

"Now tell Mama."

"Uh, it was the night I graduated from training. I wasn't a virgin—I'm not sure there was a virgin in my class. But this was something else. Some interns gave a party for some of us. That was fine and I expected one of them to get me alone. Interns are the horniest people and a girl didn't accept a date with one unless she meant business. But the party was loads of champagne and no food. Joan, I had never had champagne before."

"Oho! I can write the ending."

"Well... champagne doesn't taste strong. I sopped up a lot of it.

"Then I was in bed and it was happening. Wasn't surprised and tried to cooperate. But things were vague. I noticed that he wasn't dark-haired after all; he had hair as red as mine. When I had been certain that he was dark-haired and had a mustache. When I noticed later that he was almost bald, I realized that something odd was going on. Joan, there were seven interns at that party. I think all of them had me before morning. I don't know how many times. I knew what was happening after thick, curly red hair was replaced by mostly bald. But I didn't try to stop it. Uh... I didn't want it to stop. A nympho, huh?"

"I don't know, dear, but that's the way I felt this afternoon. Wanted it to happen at last, wanted it to go on happening—and I don't even know what it feels like. Go on."

"Well, it did go on. I got up once and went to the bathroom and noticed in the mirror that I didn't have a stitch on and couldn't remember having undressed. Didn't seem to matter. I went back to bed, and found that I was feeling lonely; the party seemed to have stopped.

"Only it hadn't. A man came in and I managed to focus my eyes and said, ‘Oh, Ted! Come here'. And he did and we did, and it was worse than ever.

"I woke up about noon with a dreadful hangover. Managed to sit up and here were my clothes, neatly folded on a chair, and on the bedside table a tray with a thermos of coffee and some Danish pastry and a glass with a note by it. It read: ‘Drink this before you eat. You'll need it. Chubby.' Chubby was the one who was almost bald."

"A gentleman. Aside from his taste for mass rape."

"Chubby was always nice. But if anybody had told me that I would ever be in bed with Chubby, I would have laughed in her face."

"Were you ever again?"

"Oh, yes. I really did appreciate the thoughtful little breakfast and especially the hangover cure. It put me back together. Not good enough to go on watch but good enough to get dressed and back to my room."

"Were you all right? I mean, uh, not caught or anything?"

"Not even sore. Not anything. Wasn't my time, even if I hadn't been protected with an implant, which I was. And one nice thing about going to bed with interns, almost no chance of picking up an infection. No, I was lucky all the way, Joan. Oh, no doubt the story went the rounds, but I wasn't the only graduate getting it that night, and that wasn't the only party. Nobody teased me about it. But it was a gang bang, and I didn't make the slightest move to stop it." She added thoughtfully, "The thing that worries me is that I might do it again. I know I would. So I don't drink at all anymore. I know I can't handle it."

"Why, Winnie, you've had a drink with me, more than once."

"That's not the same thing. Uh, if you wanted me to get drunk with you—Iwould. I'd be safe." (Safe? Little does she know.) (Eunice, we haven't done more than snuggle and you know it.) (She's asking you to step up the pace.) (Well, I won't! Not much, anyhow.)

"Winnie! Winnie dear! Look at the time."

"Uh? Oh, my heavens! Ten minutes after midnight. I—"

The little redhead seemed about to cry.

"Are you late? He'll wait. Oh. I'm sure he will—for Winnie."

"Not late yet. He's off duty at midnight and it takes a while to get here. But— Oh, dear, I don't want to leave you. Not when we were—I was, anyhow—so happy."

"Me, too, darling," Joan agreed, gently, untangling herself from Winifred's arms. "But big sister is always here. Don't keep your man waiting. Check your lipstick and hair and such in my bath if there. is any chance that he may already be in your room."

"Well. All right. Miss Joan, you're good to me."

"Don't you dare call me ‘Miss' at a time like this or swelp me, I'll make you miss your date. Rush, rush, hon; go get beautiful. Kiss me good-night; I'll be asleep before you are out of the bath. And, Winsome—no exercises tomorrow."

"But—"

"Smile, I didn't break your dolly. I want to sleep late and I want you to sleep late so that I won't wake up from knowing you are fidgeting. You'll get all the classic postures you need in bed tonight. Stop blushing. Give him something special from me, only don't tell him. Or do, I don't give a darn. Kiss me quick and let me go to sleep."

Her maid-chum-nurse kissed her not too quickly and left hurriedly. Joan Eunice pretended to be asleep when Winifred walked silently from the bath through the room, on into her own room, and the door sealed behind her.

(Well, twin, you lucked through again, didn't you?) (Eunice, I've told you time and again that I am not going to stroll Gay Street while I'm a virgin. Might be habit ­forming.) (Could be, with our cuddly little pet who enjoys a gang bang. But I didn't mean her. I meant at Safe Harbor.)

(You, call that luck? I call it the most frustrating thing that ever happened to me. Eunice, I needed the Money Hum as badly as Jake did.) (I call it luck. Boss darling, I may be dead but I can still read a calendar. I was steady on twenty-eight-and-a-half days for more than ten years—and we've still been on it since we amalgamated. We're fertile as a turtle, Myrtle, this minute—and will be, for two or three days. Jake has promised you that the next time won't be frustrating... and you'll be as carefree as a cheerleader I told you about. Scan me, Fanny? So run don't walk and get that implant—about ten o'clock tomorrow morning. Unless you plan to get us benched right away. Do you?)

(Eunice, you're talking non— No, you're not. I will do something about it. Tomorrow. But ‘benched right away' is an exaggeration. I'm new at this while you've been through one pregnancy. But your aunt probably watched you like a hawk—) (She did. Elsie Dinsmore had a livelier time.) (—but I've sat through three, as a husband. ‘Benched' is just a short time, at the end. And pregnancy doesn't kill a woman's interest. My angelic first wife, Agnes, would have tried it on the way to the hospital if I hadn't had more sense about it than she had. Just the same, I'll be good. I'll be careful, rather.)

(Joan, I wasn't trying to talk you out of it. I just didn't want us knocked up by accident. Say through a playful romp with Judgie Wudgie. Or Alec. But if you want to, that's fine. Marry Jake and get pregnant at once. Or get pregnant by him and then marry him; he might be more tractable.)

(Eunice, I'm not planning on getting married in any hurry if at all.) (So? I've heard you propose to Jake at least four times.)

(Yes, yes! If Jake agreed, I would; I wouldn't let him down. But he won't, if ever, until these legal finagles are cleared up. Which might take years. Do you remember how long it took to get the courts to okay the Sky Trails stock conversions? That was clear-cut compared with this and did not involve as much money. Eunice, 1 propose to Jake for his morale; I don't care whether he makes an ‘honest woman' of me or not, I just want him to take us to bed. Marriage doesn't figure.)

(Twin, your naivete surprises me. Didn't you hear Winnie? Marriage isn't planned, it just happens. No girl is more likely to wind up in a hotel room, married to a man she didn't even know at sundown the night before, than a chick who isn't going to get married ‘any time soon.' Boss, you marry Jake. Marry him as soon as he will agree to it—for you were talking sense when you pointed out that no other man could both understand you and not be dazzled by your money. In the meantime, it's smart to go contra.)

(All right. What are the girls using today?) (Oh, most of them use implants. Some use pills, both the daily ones and the monthly ones. But if you miss with either sort, you are on a very short fuse. I never liked monkeying with my body's economy; I'm not convinced that anything that changes a woman's femaleness that much is a good idea. Not superstition, Boss, I did some careful reading alter the time I got caught. There are hazards to all chemical methods. My body worked fine the way it was; I didn't want to tamper with a successful organization—I'm quoting you, only you were talking about business.) (I see your point, Eunice, even though we're talking about monkey business. A body is far more complex than a corporation, and the one you turned over to me is a jewel; I don't want to tamper with it, either. But what did you use? Self restraint?)

(Never had any in stock, dearie. Oh, there are lots of other loving things you can do without getting pregnant—if you can shake off your early training and be twenty-first century—) (Look, infant, 1 knew about—and used—every one of those other things in high school. I keep telling you: You kids did not invent sex.) (You didn't let me finish, Boss. Those are emergency measures. A girl who depends on them alone is going to add to the population explosion. Joan, I looked into it carefully, when I turned eighteen and was licensed and settled on one of the oldest methods. A diaphragm. They are still available; any physician will fit them. I wore one six days every month, even at the office—because, as the doctor who fitted me pointed out, most diaphragm failures result from leaving them at home while you run out for a pound of sugar, be right back.)

(I suspect he's right, Eunice.) (I'm sure of it, Joan. I never liked them—I never liked any contraception; I seemed to have a deep instinct that told me to get pregnant. Boss... the thing—the only thing—that I really mind about being dead... is that I always wanted to have a baby by you. And that's silly, as you were already too old—or maybe almost too old—when I first met you. But I would have tried, if you had offered.)

(Darling, darling!)

(Oh, I'm happy with what I have. Om Mani Padme Hum. I'm not kicking about my karma. I'm not just content, I'm happy. ...o be half of Joan Eunice.)

(Eunice, would you still be willing to have a baby by me?)

(What? Boss, don't joke about it. Don't mock me.)

(I'm not joking, beloved.)

(But, Boss, the necessary part of you is gone. Pickled in alcohol, or something.)

(They use formalin, I think. Or deep freeze. I'm not talking about that old wreck we discarded. We can go down and get an implant.)

(Huh? I don't understand.)

(Do you remember a tax-deductible called the Johanna Mueller Schmidt Memorial Eugenics Foundation?)

(Of course. I wrote a check for it every quarter.)

(Eunice, despite the purposes set out in its charter, the only real purpose does not appear in the fine print. When my son was killed I was already fairly old. But I was still virile—potent—and tests showed that I was fertile. So I got married—I think I told you—to have another son. Didn't work. But I had my bet hedged and never told anyone. Sperm bank deposit. In the cryogenic vault of the Foundation is a little piece of Johann. Hundreds of millions of extremely little pieces, that is. Presumably they are not dead, just asleep. That's what. I meant by an implant. With a syringe. Or however they do it.

(Eunice? Are you still there?) (I'm crying, Boss. Can't a girl cry happy? Yes!)

(Tomorrow morning, then. You can change your mind up till the last minute.)

(I'll never change my mind. I hope you won't.)

(Beloved.)