The Number of the Beast

XXVII

"Are you open to a bribe?"

Deety:

Zebadiah, for seventeen dull minutes, said nothing and said it very well. During that plethora of polysyllabic nullities, I was beginning to think that I would have to take Pop to a quiet spot and reason with him with a club- when Captain Auntie showed that she needed no help.

Pop had interrupted with: "Let me put it simply. What Zeb said is-"

"Copilot." Cap'n Hilda did not speak loudly but Pop should know that when she says "Copilot," she does not mean: "Jacob darling, this is your little wifey." Pop is a slow learner. But he can learn. Just drop an anvil on him.

"Yes, Hilda?" Aunt Hilda let the seconds creep past, never took her eyes off Pop. I was embarrassed; Pop isn't usually that slow-then the anvil hit. "Yes, Captain?"

"Please do not interrupt the Chief Pilot's presentation." Her tone was warm and sweet: I don't think our guests realized that Pop had just been courtmartialed, convicted, keelhauled, and restored to duty-on probation. But I knew it, Zeb knew it-Pop knew it. "Aye aye, Captain!"

I concluded that Captain Auntie never intended to stand outside. She had told me to offer my seat to Squeaky and had added, "Why don't you suggest to your father that he offer his to the Governor?" I don't need an anvil.

It was a foregone conclusion that Bertie would object to ladies having to stand while he sat. But if he had not, I feel certain that the Hillbilly would have held up proceedings until she was seated where she could watch everyone but our visitors could not watch her.

How tall was Machiavelli?

As they were climbing out the Brigadier was telling me that he understood how she was controlled-but how did she flap her wings?-and I answered that technical questions were best put to the Captain-I was unsurprised to hear Cap'n Auntie say, "Certainly, Bertie... if you don't mind being squeezed between Deety and me."

"Mind'? I should pay for the privilege!"

"Certainly you should," I agreed-the Hillbilly's eyes widened but she let me talk. "What am I offered to scrunch over?" I slapped myself where I'm widest. "Squeaky is a snake's hips-not me!"

"Are you open to a bribe?"

"How big a bribe?"

"A purse of gold and half the county? Or cream tarts at tea?"

"Oh, much more! A bath. A bath in a tub, with loads of hot water and lots of suds. The last time I bathed was in a stream and it was coooold !" I shivered for him.

The Governor appeared to think. "Squeaky, do we have a bathtub?"

Lady Herbert interrupted. "Bertie, I was thinking of the Princess Suite. My deah, since you are all one family, it popped into mind. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, two bathtubs. The drawing room is gloomy, rather."

I answered, "Bertie, you didn't talk fast enough; Betty gets the first ride."

"Oh, no, no, no! I don't fly even in our own flying carriage."

"Hahrooomph!" Squeaky boomed. "Are you still open to a bribe?"

"You might try our captain; she's as corruptible as I am."

Aunt Hilda picked it up. "Now that I've heard that two bathtubs go with the suite, my cup runneth over. But my husband and my son-in-law have matters to discuss with the Governor's technical staff. I don't have to be bribed to offer a few joy rides, Brigadier-one passenger at a time and, as Deety implies, not too wide a passenger." Aunt Hilda added, "Betty, I must confess my own weakness. Clothes. What I am wearing, for example. A Ferrara original. An exclusive-Mario himself created it for me. While it is intended for salt-water yachting, it is just as practical for space yachting-and I couldn't resist it. Do you have nice shops here?"

Bertie answered for his wife. "Hilda, there are shops-but Windsor City is not London. However, Betty has a seamstress who is clever at copying styles from pictures in periodicals from home-old but new to us." He added, "She'll show you what we have. Now concerning this ride you so kindly offered me- does it suit you to give me an appointment?"

"Is right now soon enough?"

"Report readiness for space. Astrogator."

"Ready!" I snapped, trying to sound efficient. "Belt tight."

"Chief Pilot."

"Belt fastened. Portside door locked, seal checked. Juice zero point sevenone. Wings subsonic full. Wheels down and locked. Car trimmed assuming passenger at six-six kilos."

"General, is that your mass?"

"Dear me! I think in nrn]nds. Th~ f~thr is-"

I interrupted. "I'll take it in pounds here or pounds London."

"I weigh myself each morning and I have had the scale recalibrated. Eh, with these boots, one hundred forty-five pounds I dare say."

"Correct to three significant figures, Zebadiah." (I did not mention that weight bearing on each wheel shows on the instrument board. Let Bertie think my husband a magician; he's a wizard to me.)

"Thank you, Astrogator. Car is trimmed, Captain."

"Copilot."

"Belt fastened. Door seal checked. Continua device ready."

"Passenger," said Cap'n Auntie.

"Eh? What should a passenger report?"

"Principally that your belt is secure, but I saw to that myself." (By using a web belt from our sleeping bag to link Hilda's seat belt to mine.) "I must ask one question," Aunt Hilda went on: "Are you subject to motion sickness? The Channel can be rough and so can the Straits of Dover. Did mal de mer ever hit you?"

"Oh, I'll be right. Short flight and all that."

"One Bonine, Deety. General, Admiral Lord Nelson was seasick all his life. My husband and I are susceptible; we took our pills earlier today. Deety and Zebbie are the horrid sort who eat greasy sandwiches during a typhoon and laugh at the dying-"

"I don't laugh!" I protested.

"But these pills enable us to laugh right back. Is this not so, Jacob?"

"Bertie, they work; you'd be a fool not to take one."

"I must add," Captain Auntie said sweetly, "that if you refuse, we will not lift."

Bertie took it. I told him, "Chew it and swallow it; don't hide it in your cheek. Captain, I think that does it."

"Except that we are crowded. General, would you be more comfortable if you put an arm around each of us?"

The General did not refuse. It occurs to me that "take him for a ride" has several meanings. Captain Auntie has more twists than a belly dancer.

"Routine has been broken. Confirm readiness, please." We reported while I snuggled into a firm male arm, realized that it was a pleasant contrast after getting used to my lovely giant.

"Gay Bounce."

Bertie gasped and tightened his arms around us. Aunt Hilda said quietly, "Astrogator, take the conn. Schedule as I discussed it. Don't hesitate to vary it. All of us-you, too, General-may suggest variations. This is a joy ride; let's enjoy it."

But she had told me earlier: "If I don't like a suggestion, I will suggest that we do it later-but time will run out. The General told Lady Herbert:

"I can go down to the end of the town

"And be back in time for tea!"-so we will fetch him back on time. Sixteenfifteen local, four-fifteen pip emma. What's Greenwich?"

I converted it (GMT 12:44) and told Captain Hillbilly that I would watch both board and the clock in my head but was ordered to nlace an alert with

Gay. If Aunt Hilda were a man, she would wear both suspenders and belt. No, that's wrong; for herself she's go-for-broke; for other people she is supercautious.

We lifted at 15:30 local and took Bertie for a mixed ride-Aunt Hilda had told me that Pop was feeling left out. "Gay Bounce, Gay Bounce. Chief Pilot, place us over the big Russian city at about a thousand klicks."

"Roger Wilco," my husband affirmed. "Copilot, one jump or two?"

"One. Level? Keep 'er so. Six thousand thirty klicks, true bearing two-seventhree, offset L axis negative oh-seven-four-set!"-and I shuddered; Pop had set to take us through the planet!

"Execute! Bertie, what is the name of that city?"

"Eh? Zeb, I am quite bewildered!" Pop and Gay and Zebadiah, working together, displayed features simultaneously on the planet in front of us and on the sillyscope on the board. Pop bounced Gay around in ways I didn't know could be done. Zebadiah had Gay rotate the display so that the point on Marsten opposite us was always the center of the display with scale according to H-above-G.

I learned a lot. The Russians claim the whole planet but their occupied area closely matches what we had bingo-mapped. Bertie pointed out a bit more Tsarist area; Gay changed the displayed locus to Zebadiah's interpretation of Bertie's information. Windsor City was zero Meridan for the British; Gay measured the arc to "Touchdown," adjusted her longitudes-and now could use any British Martian colonial map.

Bertie assured us that Russian Ack-Ack could not shoot higher than three miles (less than five klicks) and seemed astonished that a spaceship might be considered dangerous. His explanation of spaceships was less than clear- great flimsy things that sailed from orbits around Earth to orbits around Mars, taking months for each voyage.

I was watching the time. "Chief Pilot, we will sight-see with Bertie another day; I am taking the conn. Copilot."

"Verniers zeroed and locked, Astrogator."

"Thanks, Pop. Gay B'gout. Bertie, this is where we first grounded-where the Russians attacked us. That trash ahead is what is left of Colonel Morinosky's private flyer. Zebadiah was forced to retaliate."

Bertie looked puzzled. "But the Russians have no settlement near here. I know that bounder Morinosky; he came to see me under diplomatic immunity. I had to be content with the sort of nasty remarks permitted by protocol. But how did Zeb burn the flyer?"

"Beautifully. Gay Home. Chief Pilot, dive. Captain?"

"I have the conn," Aunt Hilda acknowledged. "Bertie, that crater was our home three days ago. They tried to kill us, we fled for our lives."

"Who!"

"Gay Home, Gay Bounce. Pilots, may we have Earth-without-a-J?"

"Set it, Jake."

"Tau axis positive one quantum-set!"

"Copilot, execute at will. Chief Pilot, dive again, please. Jacob, please set Bertie's home universe and hold. Bertie, that house is like Snug Harbor before

it was bombed-but one universe away. Zebbie, level glide please... Gay Bounce, Gay Bounce! Jacob, you have that setting?"

"Tau positive ten quanta, set."

"Execute at will. Bertie, what antiaircraft defense does London-your London-have?"

"What, what? London has no defense against attack from above. The Concord of Brussels. But Hilda-my dear Captain-you are telling me that we have been to a different universe!"

"Three universes, Bertie, and now we are back in your own. Better to show than to tell; it is a thing one believes only through experience. Gay Bounce. Zebbie, Jacob, see how quickly you can put us over London. Execute at will."

"Roger Wilco. Jake, do you want Gay?"

"Well-great-circle true bearing and chord distance, maybe. Or I can simply take her high and head northeast. The scenic route."

Aunt Hilda caught my eye. "Camera ready, Deety?"

"Yes. Three shots." I added, "Four more cartons, but when they're gone, they're gone."

"Use your judgment."

Suddenly we were in free fall over Arizona, then over the British Isles, then we were air supported, then we were diving and Zebadiah was shouting: "Tower of London, next stop!"

I shot a beauty of the Tower and Zebadiah's right ear. "General, is there something you would like to photograph here? Or elsewhere?"

He seemed almost too overcome to talk. He muttered, "There is a place about twenty miles north of here, a country estate. Is it possible?"

Aunt Hilda said, "Take the conn, Deety."

"Got it, Captain. Gay Bounce. Pop, Zebadiah, give me three minima north. Execute at will."

Then I was saying, "Any landmarks, Bertie?"

"Uh, not yet."

"Pop, may we have the binoculars?"

Pop handed them aft; I gave them to Bertie. He adjusted them and searched while Zebadiah made a wide sweep, spending altitude stingily. Bertie said, "There!"

"Where?" I said. "And what?"

"A large house, to the right of our course. Ah, now dead ahead!"

I saw it-a "Stately Home of England." Lawns you make with a flock of sheep and four centuries. "This it?" asked Zebadiah. "I'm steady on it by gunsight,"

"That's it, sir! Deety, I would like a picture."

"Do my best."

"Alert," said Gay. "Memo for General Smythe-Carstairs: 'I can go down to the end of the town and be back in time for tea."

"Aunt Hilda, Bertie, I left some leeway. Picture! Zebadiah, take it as close as you dare, then bounce, but warn me. I want a closeup."

"Now, Deety!" I hit it and Zebadiah bounced us.

Bertie let out a sigh. "My home. I never expected to see it again."

"I knew it was your home," Aunt Hilda said softly, "because you looked the way we feel when we see the crater where Snug Harbor used to be. But you will see it again, surely? How long is a tour of duty on Mars?"

"It's a matter of health." Bertie added, "Lady Her- Betty's health."

Pop turned his head. "Bertie, we can bounce and do it again. What's a few minutes late for tea compared with seeing your old homestead?"

"Bertie's not late yet, Pop. We can do even better. That lawn is smooth and the open part is about half the size of the pg. at Imperial House. Bertie, we can ground."

My husband added, "I could make a glide grounding. But Deety has worked out a better method."

"No," Bertie said brusquely. "Thanks, Deety. Thanks to all of you. Jake. Zeb. Captain Hilda. I'll treasure this day. But enough is enough." Tears were running down his cheeks, ignored.

Aunt Hilda took a Kleenex from her purse, dabbed away his tears. She put her left hand back of Bertie's neck, pulled his face down to hers, and kissed him. She didn't look to see if Pop was watching-he was-she just did it.

Pop said, "Deety, will you hand me the binox?"

"Sure, Pop. See something?"

"I'm going to see what I can of Merrie Old England, as I don't expect to see it again, either. Family, we are not going back to Snug Harbor again; it's not good for us. Meanwhile Zeb will drive and you two are to soothe our guest and make him feel better-"

"But remember to wipe off the lipstick."

"Pipe down, Zeb. You aren't observant; neither of our darlings is wearing any. Being late is not important; 'The party can't start till the Macgregor arrives.' But once Bertie's there, he's on parade-and the Governor must not appear with eyes swollen and tear marks on his collar. We must return him in as good shape as we got him."

Sometimes I love Pop more than most.

And my husband, too.

I used both hands but didn't need to; Bertie wasn't trying to get away. The second time he kissed Hilda, he supplied the hands. Therapy took three minutes and forty-one seconds, and I am certain that, by the end of two hundred twenty-one seconds, Bertie was no longer homesick, not grieving about mighthave-beens; his morale was tiptop. The last time he kissed me, he informed me without words that I should not be alone with him unless my intentions were serious.

I made mental note. And a second to ask Hilda if she had received the same warning. Then I struck out the second note. I was certain and equally certain that she would fib if it suited her.

But I look forward to the day the Hillbilly asks me to jigger for her. That will be my final promotion-no longer Jane's little girl in Hilda's eyes but Jane's equal, trusted as utterly as she trusted Jane. And I will be rid of the last trace of the shameful jealousy I have for my beloved Mama Jane.

I checked myself in my purse mirror while I waited for them to break- checked both of them and decided that they had no milk on their chins. Bertie said, "Deety, could I possibly have one of those pictures as a remembrance of this perfect day?"

"Certainly. Gay Parade Ground. All three are yours;~we took them for you." We were exactly on time.

Three hours later I was sitting teat deep in a wonderful tub of hot soapy water, a tub big enough to drown in but I wasn't going to drown because the Hillbilly was sitting shoulder deep, facing me. We were reliving our day as well as getting beautiful for dinner. Well... sanitary.

Hilda said, "Deety, I tell you three times. Betty is suffering from an ailment made more endurable by Martian conditions."

"Meaning that in point thirty-eight gee she doesn't hit hard when she falls down. What was in that teapot no one else touched? Chanel Number Five?"

"Medicine. Prescribed for her nerves."

"Got it. Official. She's friendly as a puppy, she's generous, she's our hostess- I ought to know better. It's a shame that she has this ailment but she's fortunate in having a husband who loves her so dearly that he left home forever so that she can live in lower gravity. Bertie is quite a man."

"There is nothing for him at home. His older brother has sons; title and estate can't go to Bertie. He can't go much higher in the army, and a governor general is senior to anybody; he embodies the Sovereign."

"I thought that was limited to viceroys."

"Squeaky put me straight on it. Bertie is viceroy in dealing with Russians. But- Did you notice the uniforms on the maids?"

"I noticed the cream tarts more. White aprons, white caps, simple print dresses, dark blue or black with Indian arrowheads."

"The Broad Arrow, Deety."

"Huh? No sabbe, pliz."

"In this universe Australia belongs to the Dutch. Brace yourself, dear. This is a prison colony."

Every so often the world wobbles and I have to wait for it to steady down. Somewhat later I said, "A colony could be better than a prison. I can't see Bertie as a tyrant. Bertie is quite a man. When-"

Hilda reached out, grabbed a chain, flushed the W.C., then leaned toward me. That fixture was a noisy type that went on gurgling and gasping for a long time. "Remember what Zebbie told us when he crowded us into the other bath and turned on everything? One must assume that guest quarters in any government building anywhere are wired. Careful what you say, dear."

"He also said that he had no reason to assume that it was the case here."

"But Zebbie was the one who insisted on a conference in Gay... with Jacob being mulish and you yourself seeing no reason not to confer up here." Aunt Hilda again pulled the chain. "Yes, Bertie is quite a man. Don't leave me alone with him."

"Or should I jigger instead?"

"Naughty Deety. My sweet, a bride should refrain at least twelve months out of respect for her husband and to prove that she can."

"After that it's okay?"

"Of course not! It's immoral, disgraceful, and scandalous." Suddenly she giggled, put arms around my neck, and whispered: "But if I ever need a jigger, Deety is the only person I would trust."

That conference, immediately after tea, had caused a crisis, brought on by our husbands in concert-but out of tune. The tea had been fun-cream tarts and new men appeal to my basest instincts. A tea qua tea should be over in an hour. We had been there over an hour, which I ignored because I was having fun. Aunt Hilda broke the ring around me, said softly, "We're leaving." So we smiled and said good-bye, found our host, and thanked him.

"Our pleasure," Bertie said. "Lady Herbert became indisposed and wishes to be forgiven but will see you at dinner. Hird-Jones tells me that black tie is no problem. Right?"

He added to let Squeaky know when we wanted help in moving; Hilda assured him that Squeaky had it in hand and the suite was beautiful!

As we left I asked, "Where is Zebadiah?"

"Waiting at the outer steps. He asked me for a conference. I don't know why, but Zebbie would not unnecessarily interrupt a social event to ask for a closed conference."

"Why didn't we go to our suite? And where is Pop?"

"Zebbie specified the car-more private. Jacob is inside, talking with some men. He brushed off my telling him that we were going to the car now-said he would see us later. Deety, I can't enforce orders as captain under those conditions."

"Pop is hard to move when he gets into a discussion. I've yawned through some deadly ones. But how can we have a conference until he shows up?"

"I don't know, dear. Here's Zebbie."

My husband pecked me on the nose and said, "Where's Jake?"

Hilda answered, "He told me that he would be along later." Zebadiah started to curse; Aunt Hilda cut him off. "Chief Pilot."

"Uh- Yes, Captain."

"Go find the Copilot, tell him that we lift in five minutes. Having told him that and no more, turn and leave at once. Don't give him any opportunity to ask questions. Come straight to the car."

"Aye aye, Captain."

"Come, Deety." Hilda hurried to Gay Deceiver, went to her seat, started to belt, She glanced at me. "Astrogator, prepare for space."

I started to ask why-but instead said, "Aye aye, Captain," and quickly was belted. "Captain, may I inquire your plans?"

"Certainly, you're second-in-command. And Astrogator; however, I will take the conn on lifting."

"Then we really are lifting?"

"Yes. Five minutes after Zebbie returns. That gives Jacob five minutes to make up his mind. Then we lift. If Jacob is aboard, he'll be with us."

"Aunt Hilda, you would abandon my father on this planet?!"

"No, Deety. Jacob will probably never notice that the car has been away as it should not be gone more than a few minutes. If Jacob does not come with us, I will ask Zebbie to drop me on Earth-without-a-J. Range-finder and target method; I don't want to use Zebbie's precious juice."

"Aunt Hilda, you sound desperate."

"I am, dear." She added, "Here comes Zebbie."

Zebadiah climbed in. "Message delivered, Captain."

"Thank you, Chief Pilot. Prepare for space."

"Roger Wilco."

"Will you check the seal of the starboard door, please?"

"Aye aye, Captain."

"Report readiness for space, Astrogator."

"Belt tight, ready for space. Oh, Aunt Hilda!"

"Astrogator, pipe down. Chief Pilot."

"Both doors locked, seals checked. Seat belt tight. Power packs, two zeroed, two in reserve. Juice oh-point-seven-one-minus. All systems go. Copilot missing. Ready for space."

"Captain's seat belt tight, ready for space. Gay Deceiver."

"Howdy, Hilda!"

"Please display five-minute countdown. Paraphrase acknowledge."

"Three hundred seconds backwards in lights."

"Execute."

Have you ever listened to three hundred seconds of silence? Neither have I-two hundred eighty-one when Pop pounded on the door.

Aunt Hilda said, "Gay Deceiver, ope'n starboard door."

Pop climbed in, indignant as an offended cat. "What the hell goes on?"

"Copilot, prepare for space."

"What? Now, Hilda, that is going too far!"

"Copilot, either secure for space or get out and stand clear. Chief Pilot, see that my orders are carried out."

"Aye aye, Captain! Copilot, you've got zero seconds to make up your mind." My husband started to unstrap.

Pop looked at Zebadiah, looked at us. I was doing my frozen face to keep from crying and I think Aunt Hilda was, too.

Pop hastily fastened his belt. "You're a pack of idiots-" He was checking the door seal. "-but I won't be left behind."

"Copilot, report."

"Huh? Ready for space."

Hilda said, "Gay Termite. Gay Deceiver, open your doors."

"Well, for the love of-"

"Pipe down! Chief Pilot, I have no stomach for charging my husband with

mutiny but that is what I have been faced with repeatedly. Will you grant me the boon of resuming command to drop me on Earth-without-a-J? I would rather not have to stay on Mars."

"Hilda!"

"I'm sorry, Jacob. I've tried. I'm not up to it. I'm not Jane."

"No one expects you to be Jane! But ever since you became captain, you've been throwing your weight around. Like calling this stunt in the middle of a party. Insulting our host and hostess-"

"Hold it, Jake!"

"What? See here, Zeb, I'm talking to my wife! You keep-"

"I said 'Hold it.' Shut up or I'll shut you up."

"Don't you threaten me!"

"That's not a threat; that's a warning."

"Pop, you had better believe him! I'm not on your side."

Pop took a deep breath. "What do you have to say for yourself, Carter?"

"Nothing, for myself. But you've got your data wrong six ways. One: Captain Hilda did not call this so-called 'stunt.' I did."

"You did? What the devil caused you to do a thing like that?"

"Irrelevant. I convinced the Captain that the matter was urgent, so she gathered us in. All but you-you told her not to bother you or words to that effect. But she gave you another chance-you didn't deserve it; you had long since used up your quota. But she did. She sent me back to tell you we were lifting. It finally penetrated your skull that we might lift without you-"

"To this place!"

"If you had been twenty seconds later, we would have translated to anothe universe. But this nonsense about 'Insulting our host and hostess-' You:

hostess left the tea long before you did; your host left immediately after Hild~ and Deety, leaving his aide-the Brigadier-to close shop. But you are 5( damned self-centered you never noticed. Jake, don't you lecture me on propei behavior as a guest. The first time I laid eyes on you, you were trying to star a fight in Sharpie's ballroom-"

"Huh? But I was fully justi-"

"Dreck. No one is ever justified in starting a fight under a host's roof. Th very most that can be justified under extreme provocation is to tell the othei party privately that you are ready to meet him at another time and place. Jake, I don't enjoy teaching manners to my senior. But your parents neglected you, so I must. If I offend you-if you feel entitled to call me out, I will accommodate you at any other time and place."

Aunt Hilda gasped. "Zebbie! No!" I gasped something like it. My husband patted our hands-together; Hilda was gripping mine. "Don't worry, dears. I didn't call Jake out and won't. I don't want to hurt Jake. He's your husband... your father... my blood brother by spilled blood. But I had to chew him out; he's now entitled to a crack at me. With words, with hands, with whatever. Sharpie, Deety, you can't refuse Jake his rights. No matter what, he still has rights."

Pop said, "Zeb, I am not going to call you out. If you think I am afraid of you, you're welcome. If you think it's because I know you love both Hilda and Deety, you would be closer. A fight between us would endanger their welfare. As you said, we are blood brothers." Pop's tone suddenly changed. "But doesn't mean I like your behavior, you arrogant punk!" -

Zebadiah grinned. "Nob contendere, Pop."

"So you admit it?"

"You know Latin better than that, Jake. Means I'm satisfied to let it lie. We can't afford to quarrel."

"Mmm- A point well taken. Stipulating that I did not come at once when summoned, and tabling, if you will, until later whether or not I had reason, may I now ask why I was summoned? The nature of this problem that caused you to call this conference?"

"Jake, the situation has changed so rapidly that the matter no longer has priority. You heard Sharpie's plans."

My husband looked into Aunt Hilda's eyes. "Captain, I'll be honored to drive you wherever you want to go. Drop you wherever you say. With your choice of equipment and wampum. But with a mail drop, I hope. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Wait a half. You are captain, until you leave us. Orders, Captain? Earthwithout-a-J? Or I'll help you shop others-we might find a world of nudists."

"Why that, Zebbie? I'm not jumpy about skin-but only among close friends."

"Remember why Jake was certain that the Finnish mathematician was not a disguised vermin? Sauna. Disguise has limits."

"Oh." Aunt Hilda looked thoughtful. "I could get used to it. But I must get out of this tension. So drop me on the minus-J world. A mail drop, yes; I don't ever want to lose you and Deety."

"We find that safe place, we pick you up. Sharpie, we'll be back someday anyhow. If the boogiemen don't get us."

"Hold it, Zeb. If you're dropping Hilda, you're dropping me."

"That's up to Captain Hilda."

"Hilda, I will not permit-"

"Jake, quit acting the fool," growled my husband. "She's boss. With me to back her up."

"And me!" I echoed.

"You seem to forget that the continua device is mine!"

"Gay Deceiver!"

"Yes, Boss? Who's your fat friend?"

"Number of the Beast.' Execute."

"Done."

"Try your verniers, Jake."

Pop did something-I couldn't see his hands. Then he said, "Why, you- So you think you've stopped me? Gay Deceiver!"

"Howdy, Jake."

Zebadiah cut in: "Gay Deceiver override! Emergency Thirty-one execute. Gay can no longer hear you, Jake. Try it."

"If you can do one, you can do the other. Zeb, I never thought you would be that sneaky."

"Jake, if you had behaved yourself, you never would have known. Extreme individualists (all of us) don't take kindly to discipline because they rarely understand its nature and function. But-even before that fake ranger showed up-we all had agreed to 'lifeboat' rules. We discussed them and you all claimed to understand them... and I was elected skipper. I nominated you-eldest, senior, inventor of the space-time twister-but you said it had to be me. A lifeboat officer must always be able to enforce his orders... in situations of great peril complicated by hysterical civilians. Or bullheaded ones who must otherwise be wheedled."

It was time for a diversion; Pop doesn't like to look foolish and I was still hoping to salvage this shambles. "Zebadiah, is my number fifty-nine?"

"Of course, but it takes my voice. Can you figure the cancel-and-reset?"

"For mnemonic reasons it should be one of three. Probably ninety-five."

"On the button!"

"Although I would prefer eighty-nine."

"Why?"

"Work on it. Zebadiah, why did you call this meeting?"

"With Sharpie leaving us the matter is academic. We won't be coming back to Mars."

"Oh, dear!"

"What's the trouble, Sharpie? Captain."

"I promised Squeaky a ride. Zebbie, could you keep my promise for me? Please? For old times' sake?"

"Captain, once we lift to drop you on Minus-J, we won't return. But the Captain still is captain and can give Squeaky that ride in the next thirty minutes if it suits her."

"May I offer something in my own defense?" Pop put in.

"Of course, Jake. Sorry, Captain; you're in charge. May the Copilot have the floor?"

"Jacob, even though I find it necessary to leave you'... I love and respect you... and will always listen to you."

"Thanks, darling. Thank you, Captain. I was in that huddle because Brigadier Hird-Jones always remembers. That huddle was the top physical scientists on Mars. A scruffy lot but they get the technical journals and read them, a few months late. I was talking with the top chemist-"

"Well, Jake? Make it march."

"Zeb, not one knew an isotope from an antelope. You can't buy juice here."

"For that you disobeyed a direct order of the Captain? Sharpie, you should have him flogged around the Fleet before you surrender office-"

"Don't loke, Zebbie."

"Captain, I am not joking. Jake, that's no news; I spotted it this afternoon. Sharpie? Deety? In England."

"I missed it," Aunt Hilda said. "I don't know England well."

"Deety?"

"Well... maybe," I admitted.

"How?" demanded Pop.

"Little things. No roadables, just horse-drawn vehicles. No air traffic other than a few ornithopters. Coal-fired steam-powered trains of cars. Traffic on the Thames, what little there was, 'minded me of pictures of Victorian England."

"Daughter, why didn't you mention this?"

"You saw it, Pop."

"Those were my reasons," Zebadiah agreed. "My hope of getting juiced here dropped to one-tenth of one percent. It is now zero." Zebadiah sighed. "But that isn't why I asked the Captain to call us together. Family, there are vermin here."

The world wobbled again-and so did I.

Aunt Hilda was saying, "How did you learn this, Zebbie?"

"You gals had plenty of company and Jake had the local scientists, so Squeaky gave me his attention. Captain, you told us to stick to the truth-"

"Yes," agreed Aunt Hilda, "but not to volunteer information."

"I didn't volunteer; I was debriefed. Squeaky asked me about the ride we gave his boss; I tried to be vague. Squeaky took a photo from his pocket. 'The Governor tells me this was taken this afternoon.' Deety, it was the pic you took of the Thames and the Tower.

"I shortly started giving him a full account rather than have it dragged out. The Governor had told him the works; Squeaky was comparing my version with Bertie's, looking for holes in a yarn most easily explained by hypnosis, delirium tremens, insanity, or fancy lying. Since no two witnesses exhibit any of these in the same way they can be used as truth tests. Contrariwise, two witnesses who tell exactly the same story are lying. I assume that Bertie and I differed enough to be credible."

I asked my husband, "Zebadiah, did you explain six-dimensional space to him?"

Zebadiah looked pained. "How could I, when I can't explain it to me? Anyhow, he's looking forward eagerly to the ride Captain Sharpie promised him."

"Oh, dear! Zebbie, will you take a note to him?"

"Captain, we are not coming back after we drop you. I'll be breaking a date with him, too. Either before or after whatever time suits you, he's planning to give me-and anyone else who wants to go-a ride to see the vermin. 'Black Hats.' Fake rangers."

(I do wish the world would not wobble!)

Pop said, "Zeb, spill it! Quit stalling."

"Shut up and listen. Squeaky showed me a scrapbook. Dull as a scrapbook usually is until we came across a page of 'Black Hats.' Deety, you would have

been proud of me-"

"I am proud of you," I answered.

"-because I didn't scream or faint, I showed no special interest. I just said, 'God in Heaven, Squeaky, those are the horrors that chased us off Earth! You've got 'em here?"

"'No special interest.'"

"I didn't climb the drapes. I merely said, 'Or have you managed to exterminate them?'

"The discussion became confused, as they don't kill them; they put them to work. Squeaky had to repress amusement at the notion that wogs could be dangerous. He glanced at his watch and said, 'Come, I'll show you. Ordinarily we don't allow wogs in town. But this old fellow takes care of the Governor's gardens and may not yet have been returned to the pens for the night.' He led me to a balcony. Squeaky looked down and said, 'Too late, I'm afraid. No, there it is-Hooly! Chop, chop!'-and again I didn't faint. Hooly ran toward us, with a gait I can't describe, stopped abruptly, threw an open-palm salute and held it. 'Private Hooly reports!'

"Squeaky let him stand there. 'This wog,' he told me, 'is the most intelligent of the herd. It knows almost a hundred words. Can make simple sentences. As intelligent as a dog. And it can be trusted not to eat the flowers.'

"Herbivorous?' says I, showing off my book-larnin'. 'Oh, no,' he tells me, 'omnivorous. We hunt wild ones to provide the good wogs with a change in diet and, of course, when we slaughter overage wogs, that provides more ration.'

"That's enough for one lesson, children. Pleasant dreams. Tomorrow the Brigadier will have a roadable big enough for all of us to take us out to meet the Martian natives aka wogs aka 'Black Hats' aka vermin-unless that interferes with the ride you aren't going to give him, in which case he will swap the times around with the visit to the wogs we aren't going to make. And that, Jake, is the reason I asked the Captain for a family conference. I already knew that artificial isotopes are far beyond this culture-not alone from the ride this afternoon but because I ask questions myself. Squeaky has a knowledge of chemistry about the pre-nuclear level and a detailed knowledge of explosives that one expects of a pro. But to Squeaky atoms are the smallest divisions of mass, and 'heavy water' is a meaningless phrase.

"So I knew we would be here just to get Sharpie some clothes and to recharge my packs-since they do have D.C. power. Then I found we had stumbled onto the home of the vermin-and at that point my back didn't ache at the idea of cranking, and I didn't think that the Captain was that much in a hurry to buy clothes. So I asked the Captain to call us together in Smart Girl. I did not want to put it off even a few minutes because we were scheduled to move into our suite after tea. To leave at once, before we moved in, would save awkward explanations. Jake, did I have reason to ask for emergency conference?"

"If you had told me-"

"Stop! The Captain told you."

"But she didn't explain-"

"Jake, you're hopeless! Captains don't have to explain. Furthermore she could not because I did not tell anyone until now. The Captain had confidence in my judgment."

"You could have explained. When Hilda sent you back to get me. I would have come at once."

"That makes the ninth time you've been wrong in twenty minutes-" I blurted, "Tenth, Zebadiah. I counted."

Pop gave me his "Et-tu,-Brute" look.

"-tenth without being right once. I could not have explained to you."

"Merely because of a group of men?"

"Eleventh. I was not sent back to get you-twelfth. I was under orders to tell you that-quote!-'We lift in five minutes.' Tell you that and no more, then turn and leave at once, without discussion. I carried out my orders."

"You hoped that I would be left behind."

"Thirteen."

I butted in again. "Pop, quit making a fool of yourself! Zebadiah asked you an essential question-and you've dodged. Captain Auntie, could we have the doors closed? There might be one of them out there-and the guns are locked up.

"Certainly, Deety. Gay Deceiver, close your doors."

Pop said, "Deety, I was not aware that I had been dodging. I thought I was conducting a reasonable discussion."

"Pop, you always think so. But you are reasonable only in mathematics. Zebadiah asked you whether or not, under the circumstances, did he have reason to ask for a conference? You haven't answered it."

"If Hilda had not told him not to-"

"Pop! Answer that question or I will never speak to you again in my life!"

My husband said, "Deety, Deety! Don't make threats."

"My husband, I never make threats, either. Pop knows it."

Pop took a deep breath. "Zeb, under the circumstances you have described, you were justified in asking the Captain for an immediate private conference."

I let out my breath. "Thanks, Pop."

"I did it for myself, Deety. Hilda? Captain?"

"What is it, Jacob?"

"I should have gone with you at once when you first asked me to."

"Thank you, Jacob. But I did not 'ask' you; I ordered you. True, it was phrased as a request... but orders of a commanding officer are customarily phrased as requests-a polite protocol. You explained this custom to me yourself. Although I already knew it." Aunt Hilda turned to look at Zebadiah.

"Chief Pilot, the departure for Minus-J is postponed until late tomorrow. I will give you the time after I have consulted the Brigadier. I want to see one of those vermin, alive, photograph it stereo and cinema, and, if possible, dissect one. Since I intend to remain overnight, I hope to pick up clothes for MinusJ, too-but the reasons for delay are to learn more about vermin and to carry out my commitment to Brigadier Hird-Jones."

Aunt Hilda paused, continued: "All hands, special orders. Do not remove

anything from the car that you cannot afford to abandon. This car may lift on five minutes' warning even in the middle of the night. You should keep close to me unless you have a guarantee from me of longer time. Tonight I will sleep in the car. If we lift in the night, I will send word to Princess Suite. Zebbie, I will retain the captaincy until we ground on Minus-J. Schedule: Dinner tonight is eight-thirty pip emma local time, about three hours hence. Black tie for gentlemen. Deety suggests that we wear what we wore our wedding night; she has our outfits packed together. The Brigadier will send someone to Princess Suite shortly after eight local to escort us to a reception. I will settle tomorrow's schedule with him. Jacob, I will slip down to the car after the House is quiet. If someone sees me, I will be running down for a toothbrush. Questions?"

"Captain?" said Pop.

"Copilot."

"Hilda, must you sleep in the car?"

"Jacob, 'twere best done quickly!"

"I'm begging you."

"You want me to be your whore one last time? That's not too much to ask... since you were willing to marry me knowing my thoroughly tarnished past. Yes, Jacob."

"No, no, no! I want you to sleep in my arms-that's all I ask."

"Only that? We can discuss it after we go to bed. All hands, prepare for space. Report!"

I splashed the Hillbilly and giggled. "Cap'n Auntie chum, that flatters me more than anything else you could ever say. While I can't imagine needing a jigger-if I did-or if I needed any sort of help and it took one who loves me no matter what, you know to whom I would turn. The one who loves me even when I'm bad. Who's that?"

"Thank you, Deety. We love and trust each other."

"Now tell me- Did you ever have any intention of sleeping tonight in the car?"

She pulled the chain again. Under that racket she said into my ear, "Deety doll, I never had any intention of sleeping tonight."