Time Enough For Love

VARIATIONS ON A THEME-XIII

Boondock

"Ira," said Lazarus Long, "have you looked at this list?" He was lounging in the office of Colony Leader Ira Weatheral at Boondock, largest (only) settlement on the planet Tertius. With them was Justin Foote 45th, freshly arrived from New Rome, Secundus.

"Lazarus, Arabelle addressed that letter to you. Not to me."

"That preposterous puff-gut will get me annoyed yet. Her Extreme Ubiquity Madam Chairman Pro Tem Arabelle Foote-Hedrick seems to think she has been crowned Queen of the Howards. I'm tempted to go back and pick up that gavel."

Lazarus passed the list to Weatheral. "Give it a gander, Ira. Justin, did you have anything to do with this?"

"No, Senior. Arabelle told me to deliver it and instructed me to brief you in ways to insure delivery of Delay Mail from various eras-which does present problems for pre-Diaspora dates. But I don't consider her ideas practical. If I may say so, I know more Terran history than she does."

"I'm certain you do. I think she cribbed that list from an encyclopedia. Don't bother me with her notions. Oh, you can transcribe them and give me the cube, but I shan't play it. I want your ideas. Justin."

"Thank you, Ancestor-"

"Call me 'Lazarus.'"

"'Lazarus.' The official reason for my visit is to report to her on this colony-"

"Justin," Ira put in quickly, "does Arabelle think she has jurisdiction over Tertius?"

"I'm afraid so, Ira."

Lazarus snorted. "Well, she hasn't. But she's so far away it can't hurt if she wants to call herself 'Empress of Tertius.' Our situation is this, Justin. Ira is Colony Leader, we are still shaking down. I'm Mayor-Ira does the work, but I bang the gavel at community meetings-there are always colonists who think that a colony can operate like a big-city planet, so I preside to throw cold water on damfoolishness. When I'm ready to start this time-travel junket, we'll eliminate the job of Colony Leader and Ira will take over as Mayor.

"But feel free to look over the joint, count noses, examine any records, do as you like. Welcome to Tertius, the biggesi little colony this side of Galactic Center. Make yourself at home, son."

"Thank you. Lazarus, I would be staying-colonizing-but I want to remain Chief Archivist until I finish editing your memoirs."

Lazarus said, "Oh, that junk-burn it up! Gather ye rosebuds, man!"

Ira said, "Lazarus, don't talk that way. I put up with your whims for years to get it on record."

"Piffle. I paid you back when I grabbed the gavel and kept the Ugly Duchess from banishing you to Felicity. You got what you want-why do you care about my memoirs?"

"I care."

"Well- Maybe Justin can edit them here. Athene! Pallas Athene, are you there, honey?"

"Listening, Lazarus," came a sweet soprano voice from a speaker over Ira's desk.

"Your memories include my memoirs, do they not?"

"Certainly, Lazarus. Every word you've spoken since Ira rescued you-"

"Not 'rescued,' dear. Kidnapped."

"Revision. -since Ira kidnapped you from that flophouse, and all your earlier memoirs."

"Thanks, dear. You see, Justin? If you must do buttonsorting, do it here. Unless you have unfinished business on Secundus? Family, or such?"

"No family. Grown children but no wife. My deputy is doing my job, and I've nominated her as my successor- subject to approval by the Trustees. But I find myself startled. Uh-how about my ship?"

"My ship, you mean. I don't mean my yacht 'Dora' but that one-man autopacket you arrived in. The 'Homing Pigeon.' Belongs to a corporation owned by another corporation of which I am major stockholder. I'll accept delivery and that saves Arabelle half the lease time."

"So? Madam Chairman Pro Tem did not lease that auto-packet, Lazarus; she requisitioned it for public service."

"Well, well!" Lazarus grinned. "Maybe I'll sue her. Justin, there is nothing in the Articles of Contract under which Secundus was colonized that permits requisition of private property by the state. Correct, Ira?"

"Technically correct, Lazarus. Although there is long precedent for eminent domain in land."

"Ira, I'd argue even that. But have you ever heard of it being applied to spaceships?"

"Never. Unless you count the 'New Frontiers.'"

"Ouch! Ira, I didn't requisition the 'New Frontiers'; I stole it to save our skins."

"I was thinking of Slayton Ford's part in it, not yours. Constructive requisitioning, perhaps?"

"Mmm- It's pretty small of you to bring it up a couple of thousand years after his death. Furthermore, had Slayton not, done what he did, I wouldn't be here and you wouldn't be here. Nor any of us. Damn you, Ira."

"Get your feathers down, Grandfather. I was just pointing out that a head of state sometimes has to do things he would never do as a private individual. But if Arabelle can requisition the 'Homing Pigeon' when it sits on Secundus, then you can do the same on Tertius. You are each head of state of an autonomous planet. Teach her a lesson."

"Uh...Ira, don't tempt me. It happened to me once. If it got to be a habit, it would put a stop to interstellar travel. I won't touch that bucket under any such flimsy legality. But I do own it, indirectly, and if Justin wants to stay, he can turn it over to me, and I'll return it to Transport Enterprises. Let's get back to that list. See what the old bat wants? The times and places she wants me to report on?"

"Looks like an interesting itinerary."

"It does, eh? Then you do it. 'Battle of Hastings-First, Third, and Fourth Crusades-Battle of Orleans-Fall of Constantinople-French Revolution-Battle of Waterloo.' Thermopylae and nineteen other encounters between rough strangers. I'm surprised she didn't ask me to referee the bout between David and Goliath. I'm chicken, Ira. I fight when I can't run-how does she think I managed to live so long? Bloodshed is not a spectator sport. If history says that a battle took place at a given location on a particular day, then I'll be somewhere-or somewhen-far away, sitting in a tavern, drinking beer and pinching the barmaids. Not dodging mortar fire to feed Arabelle's ghoulish curiosity."

"I tried to suggest that," said Justin. "But she said that this was an official Families' project."

"The hell it is. I told her about it simply to be sure of the Delay Mail setup. I'm a coward by trade...and not working for her. I'll go where and when I please, see what I want to- and try not to antagonize local yokels. Especially those fighting each other; it makes 'em trigger-happy."

"Lazarus," said Ira Weatheral, "you never have said what you do plan to see."

"Well- No battles. Battles are well enough reported for my taste. But there are lots of interesting things in Terran history-peaceful things not well reported because they were peaceful. I want to see the Parthenon at the peak of its glory. Cruise down the Mississippi with Sam Clemens as pilot. Go to Palestine in the first three decades of the Christian Era and try to locate a certain carpenter turned rabbi-settle whether there ever was such a man."

Justin Foote looked surprised. "You mean the Christian Messiah? Admittedly many stories about him are myths, but-"

"How do you know they are myths? But that he ever lived is the point that has never been established. Take Socrates, four centuries earlier-his historicity is as firmly established as that of Napoleon. Not so with the Carpenter of Nazareth. Despite the care with which the Romans kept records and the equal care with which the Jews kept theirs, none of the events that should be on record can be found in contemporary records.

"But if I devoted thirty years to it, I could find out. I know Latin and Greek of that time and I'm almost as conversant with classic Hebrew; all I would have to add is Aramaic. If I found him, I could follow him around. Take down his words with a microrecorder, see if they match what he is alleged to have said.

"But I won't take any bets. The historicity of Jesus is the slipperiest question in all history because for centuries the question couldn't be raised. They would hang you for asking-or burn you at the stake."

"I'm amazed," said Ira. "My knowledge of Earth's history isn't as thorough as I thought it was. However, I concentrated on the period from Ira Howard's death to the founding of New Rome."

"Son, you didn't even sample it. But aside from this one weird story-'weird' because most major religious leaders are heavily documented whereas this one remains as elusive as the King Arthur legends-I'm not going after great events. I'd rather meet Galileo, get a look at Michelangelo at work, attend a first performance of one of old Bill's plays at the Globe Theater, things like that. I'd particularly like to go back to my own childhood, see if things look as I recall them."

Ira blinked. "Run a chance of running into yourself?"

"Why not?"

"Well...there are paradoxes, are there not?'

"How? If I'm going to, then I did. That old cliché about shooting your grandfather before he sires your father, then going fuft! like a soap bubble-and all descendants, too, meaning both of you among others-is nonsense. The fact that I'm here and you're here means that I didn't do it-or won't do it; the tenses of grammar aren't built for time travel-but it does not mean that I never went back and poked around. I haven't any yen to look at myself when I was a snot-nose; it's the era that interests me. If I ran across myself as a young kid, he-I-wouldn't recognize me; I would be a stranger to that brat. He wouldn't give me a passing glance; I know, I was he."

"Lazarus," put in Justin Foote, "if you intend to visit that era, I'd like to invite your attention to one thing Madam Chairman Pro Tem is interested in-because I am interested. A recording of exactly what was said and done at the Families' Meeting in 2012 A.D."

"Impossible."

"Just a moment, Justin," Ira put in. "Lazarus, you have refused to talk about that meeting on the grounds that the others who were there can't dispute your version. But a recording would be fair to everyone."

"Ira, I didn't say that I would not; I said it was impossible."

"I don't follow you."

"I can't make a recording of that meeting because I was not there."

"You lost me again. All the records-and your own statements-show that you were there."

"Again we don't have language adequate for time travel. Surely, I was there as Woodrow Wilson Smith. I was there and made a hairy nuisance of myself and offended a lot of people. But I did not have a recorder on me. Let's say that Dora and the twins drop me back there-me, Lazarus Long, not that younger fellow-and that Ishtar has equipped me with a recorder implanted behind my right kidney, with its minimike surfacing inside my right ear. Okay, let's assume that with such equipment I won't be noticed making a record.

"But, Ira, what you don't understand, despite having chaired many Families' Meetings, is that I would not get inside the hall. In those days an executive meeting of the Families was harder to get into than an esbat of witches. The guards were armed and eager; it was a rough period. What identity could I use? Not Woodrow Wilson Smith; he was there. Lazarus Long? There was no 'Lazarus Long' on the Families' rolls. Try to fake it as someone eligible but not able to attend? Impossible. There were only a few thousand of us then, and every member was known to a large percentage of the rest; a man who couldn't be vouched for ran a nasty chance of being buried in the basement. No unidentified person ever did get in; we had too much at stake. Hi, Minerva! Come in, honey."

"Hi, Lazarus. Ira, am I intruding?"

"Not at all, dear."

"Thank you. Hello, Athene."

"Hello, my sister."

Minerva waited to be introduced. Ira said, "Minerva, you remember Justin Foote, Chief Archivist."

"Certainly, I've worked with him many times. Welcome to Tertius, Mr. Foote."

"Thank you, Miss Minerva." Justin Foote liked what he saw-a tall, slender young woman with an erect carriage, a small, firm bust, long chestnut hair worn in a part and brushed straight down, a sober, intelligent face, handsome rather than pretty, but which blossomed into beauty each time she gave one of her quick smiles. "But, Ira, I must hurry back to Secundus and apply for rejuvenation. This young lady has worked with me 'many times'-yet I've grown so senile I can't place the occasions. Forgive me, dear lady."

Minerva flashed him another of her smiles, then instantly. was sober. "My fault, sir; I should have explained at once. When I worked with you, I was a computer. Executive computer of Secundus, serving Mr. Weatheral, then Chairman Pro Tem. But now I'm a flesh-and-blood, and have been for the past three years."

Justin Foote blinked. "I see. I hope I do."

"I am a proscribed construct, sir, not born of woman. A composite clone of twenty-three donor-parents, forced to maturity in vitro. But the 'I' that is me, my ego, was the computer who used to work with you when the Archives computers needed assistance from the executive computer. Have I made it clear?"

"Uh...all I can say, Miss Minerva, is that I am delighted to meet you in the flesh. Your servant, Miss."

"Oh, don't call me 'Miss,' call me 'Minerva.' I shouldn't be called 'Miss' anyhow; isn't that honorific reserved for virgins among flesh-and-bloods? Ishtar-one of my mothers and my chief designer-deflowered me surgically before she woke me."

"And that ain't all!" came the voice from the ceiling.

"Athene," Minerva said reprovingly. "Sister, you're embarrassing our guest."

"I'm not, but maybe you are, sister mine."

"Am I, Mr. Foote? I hope not. But I'm still learning to be a human being. Will you kiss me? I'd like to kiss you; we've known each other almost a century and I've always liked you. Will you?"

"Now who's embarrassing him, sister?'

"Minerva," said Ira.

She suddenly sobered. "I shouldn't have said that?"

Lazarus cut in. "Pay no attention to Ira, Justin; he's an old stick-in-the-mud. Minerva is a 'kissin cousin' to most of the colony; she's making up for lost time. Furthermore, she is some sort of cousin to practically all of us through her twenty-three parents. And she's learned how-kissing her is a treat. Athene, let your sis be while she adds on another kissing cousin."

"Yes, Lazarus. Ol' Buddy Boy!"

"Teena, if I could reach through that string of wires, I'd spank you." Lazarus added, "Go ahead, Justin."

"Uh...Minerva, I haven't kissed a girl in many years. Out of practice."

"Mr. Foote, I do not mean to embarrass you. I am simply delighted to see you again. You need not kiss me. Or if you are willing to kiss me in private, you are most welcome."

"Don't risk it, Justin," advised the computer. "I'm your friend."

"Athene!"

"I was about to add," said the Chief Archivist, "that I probably need practice in 'learning to be a human being' more than you do. If you'll put up with my rustiness, Cousin, I accept your sweet offer. Brace yourself."

Minerva smiled quickly, went into his arms, flowed up against him like a cat, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth. Ira studied a paper on his desk. Lazarus did not even pretend not to watch. He noted that Justin Foote put his heart into the matter-the old buzzard might be out of practice, but he hadn't forgotten the basics.

When they broke, the computer gave a respectful whistle. "Wheeee...ooooo! Justin, welcome to the Club."

"Yes," Ira said dryly, "a person can't be said to be officially on Tertius until he or she has been welcomed with a kiss from Minerva. Now that protocol is satisfied, sit down. Minerva, my dear, you came for some purpose?"

"Yes, sir." She settled down by Justin Foote on a couch facing Ira and Lazarus-took Justin's hand. "I was in the 'Dora' with the twins, and Dora was drilling them in astrogation, when the packet showed up in our sky and-"

"Hold it," Lazarus interrupted. "Did the brats track it?"

"Certainly, Lazarus. A live exercise?-Dora would never miss such a chance. She split herself instantly and made each of them track it independently. But once the autopacket grounded I asked Dora to ask Athene who was in it-and as soon as the pod opened, my sisters told me, Justin"-she squeezed his hand-"and I hurried to greet you. And to offer some arrangements. Ira, has Justin been provided for? A place to sleep, things like that?"

"Not yet, my dear. We were just starting to talk-he's barely had time to shake off the anesthetic."

Foote remarked, "I think the antidote has taken hold."

The computer added, "Cousin Justin just had a second dose, Ira. Pulse fast but steady."

"That's enough, Athene. Were you going to suggest something, my dear?"

"Yes. I swung past the house and spoke with Ishtar. We are in agreement. Subject to approval of you and Lazarus."

"You mean we get a vote?" Lazarus put in. "Justin, this planet is run by its women."

"Isn't that true everywhere?"

"No, just most of them. I remember a place where a wedding ceremony always concluded by killing the bride's mother if she hadn't been used up earlier. I thought that was overdoing it, but it did tend to-"

"Stow it, Grandpappy," Ira said mildly. "Justin would have to edit it out. Justin, what Minerva has been saying is that our house is yours. Lazarus?"

"Certainly. It's a madhouse, Justin, but the cooking is okay, and the price is right. Free, that is. It's just your nerves that pay.

"Really, I have no intention of imposing. Isn't there someone who can rent me a room? Not for money-I assume that Secundus money is not negotiable here-but for artifacts I've fetched, things you don't make as yet."

Lazarus answered, "You can negotiate Secundus money through me if you need to. As for artifacts, you may be surprised at what we are making."

"I might not be; I know that a universal pantograph was moved here. So I fetched new creative items, mostly entertainments-solly cubes and such. Musicalarkies, pornies, dreams, other sorts-all published since you folks left Secundus."

"Well planned." Lazarus added, "I think colonizing was more fun back when pioneers had no choice but to step in and slug it out and you weren't sure who was going to win, you or the planet. The way we do it now is like swatting an insect with a sledgehammer. Justin, your creepies will fetch a high price-but sell them in dribbles...because each one will be copied as soon as you turn it loose. No copyright, there's no way to enforce it. But it still won't rent you a room; we're at the staying-with-kinfolk stage. You'd best accept our offer; it rains 'most every night this time o' year."

Justin Foote looked baffled. "I have misgivings about invading your privacy. Ira, could I borrow this couch I'm sitting on? For a short time? Then-"

"Stow it, Justin." Lazarus stood up. "Son, you're suffering from big-city attitudes. You're welcome for a week or a century. You're not only my lineal descendant-through Janet Foote, I think-but you're a kissin' cousin of Minerva's. Let's take him home, Minerva. What did you do with my hellions?"

"They're outside."

"Trust you staked 'em down."

"No, but they were somewhat miffed."

"Good for their metabolism. Ira, declare a holiday."

"I will-as soon as I've gone over the ore converter plans with Athene."

"Meaning you're going to find out from her what's she's decided."

"You can say that again!" said the computer.

"Teena," Lazarus said mildly, "you've been associating with Dora too much. When Minerva had your job, she was sweet, gentle, respectful, and humble."

"Any complaints about my work, Grandpappy?"

"Just your manners, dear. In the presence of a guest."

"Justin isn't a guest; he's family. He's my sister's kissing cousin, so he's mine, too. Logical? Q.E.D."

"I disdain to argue. Watch out for Teena, Justin; she'll trap you.

"I find Athene's reasoning not only logical but warmly pleasing. Thank you, my kissing cousin."

"I like you, Justin; you were sweet to my sister. Don't worry about me trapping you; I don't plan to accept a clone for at least a hundred years-first I've got to get this planet organized. So don't wait up; you'll see me in about a century. You'll recognize me; I'll look exactly like Minerva."

"But noisier."

"Lazarus, you say the sweetest things. Kiss him for me, twin sister."

"Let's go, Minerva; Teena's got me mixed up again."

"Just a moment, Lazarus, please. Ira? I made other arrangements through Ishtar but only tentatively...not being sure of Justin's wishes."

"Oh. I don't know them either. Do you want me to ask him?"

"Uh...yes."

"On your behalf?"

Minerva looked startled. Justin Foote looked puzzled. Athene said, "Let's cut through the fog. Justin, Minerva was asking Ira whether or not you want her to find you a guest wife. Ira says he doesn't know but will find out-then asked her if she was volunteering for the privilege. All clear? Justin, my sister is so new at being a flesh-and-blood that she sometimes isn't sure of herself."

Lazarus reflected that he had not seen a girl blush-for that reason-for three centuries or more. Nor did the two men look at ease. He said reprovingly, "Teena, you are an excellent engineer...and a lousy diplomat."

"What? Oh, nonsense. I saved them billions of nanoseconds."

"Shut up, dear; your circuits are scrambled. Justin, Minerva is almost certainly the only girl on this planet who could be fussed by Teena's unhelpful help...because she is probably the only one who shows any tendency to stick to one man."

The computer giggled.

"I told you to keep still," Lazarus said sternly.

Ira said quietly, "Minerva is a free agent, Lazarus."

"Who said she wasn't? And you keep quiet, too, until the Senior-that's me, son-finishes speaking. Justin, Minerva will find you a dinner partner-has found one, I think. After that you are on your own. If you and your dinner partner don't hit it off, no doubt you'll be able to work out something else. Teena, I'm going to switch you off at the house tonight; I am uninviting you to dinner. You haven't learned how to behave in company."

"Aw, Lazarus, I didn't mean to steal your pig."

"Well-" Lazarus looked around. Ira's face was impassive, Minerva looked unhappy. Justin Foote spoke up:

"Senior, I'm sure Athene did not mean any harm. I do appreciate her declaring me her 'kissing cousm'; I found it warmly friendly. I hope you will reconsider and let her join us at dinner."

"Very well, Teena; Justin has intervened for you. But between you and Dora and the twins I am beginning to need a gnarooth to ride herd on you kids. Justin. Minerva. Let's go. Ira, Teena-.see you at the house. Don't waste time on that converter, Ira; Teena did a perfect job."

Outside the colonial headquarters Justin Foote found a null-boat waiting-not the one that had fetched him from the sky-field; this one had a pair of redheaded twins in it...uh, girls, although they looked as if they had just recently made up their minds. Twelve, perhaps thirteen. Both were wearing gun belts on skinny hips, with what (he hoped) were toy guns. One was wearing captain's insignia on bare shoulders. Each wore eleven thousand, three hundred, and two freckles as near as he could estimate.

Both jumped out of the boat, waited. One set of freckles said, "About time." The other said, "Discrimination."

Lazarus said, "Pipe down and be polite. Justin, these are my twin daughters-Lapis Lazuli, and that one's Lorelei Lee. Mr. Justin Foote, dears, Chief Archivist for the Trustees."

The girls glanced at each other, then curtsied deeply in perfect unison. "Welcome to Tertius, Chief Archivist Foote!" they said in chorus.

"Charming!"

"Yes, girls, that was nice. Who taught you?"

"Mama Harnadryad taught us-"

"-and Mania Ishtar said this would be a good time to do it."

"But I'm Lori; she's Lazi."

"You're both lazy," said Lazarus.

"I'm Captain Lapis Lazuli Long, commanding Starship 'Dora' and she's my crew. Even-numbered day."

"Till tomorrow. Odd-numbered day."

"Lazarus can't tell us apart-"

"-and he's not our father; we never had one."

"He's our brother, no real authority-"

"-he just dominates us by brute strength-"

"-but someday that will change."

"Into the boat, you mutinous hellions," Lazarus said cheerfully, "before I bust you back to apprentice spacemen."

They jumped into the boat, sat forward, facing aft.

"Threats-"

"-with abusive language-"

"-and without due process."

Lazarus did not seem to hear them. He and Justin handed Minerva into the boat, seated her aft and facing forward; they took seats cornering her. "Captain Lazuli."

"Yes, sir?"

"Will you please tell the boat to take us home?"

"Aye aye, sir. Humpty Dumpty-home!"

The little craft started up, hit a steady ten knots, waddling to changing contours of the ground. Lazarus said, "And now, Captain, having confused our guest, please straighten him out."

"Yes, sir. We're not twins, we don't even have the same mother-"

"-and Ol' Buddy Boy is not our father; he's our brother."

"Even-numbered day!"

"Then make it march."

"Correction," said Lazarus. "I'm your father because I adopted you, with written consent of your mothers."

"Irrelevant-"

"-and illegal; it was not with our consent-"

"-and immaterial in any case, as we three, Lazarus, Lorelei arid I, are identical triplets and therefore enjoy the same rights under any rational jurisdiction...which unfortunately this is not. So he beats us. Illegally and brutally."

"Captain, remind me to get a bigger club."

"Aye aye, sir. But we're fond of Buddy Boy anyhow despite his masochosadistic behavior. Because he's really us. You see?"

"Miss-Captain, I mean-I'm not sure I do. I think I slid through a space warp on the way here and failed to come out."

The even-numbered-day captain shook her head. "Sorry, sir, but that's not possible. I must ask you to take my word for it...unless you can handle imperial numbers and Libby field-physics. Can you?"

"No. Can you?"

"Oh, certainly-"

"-we're geniuses."

"Quit trying to snow him, kids, and belay that order. I'll explain it myself."

"I wish you would, Lazarus. I wasn't aware that you had any minor children. Or sisters, which I find even more confusing. Are they registered? While I can't see everything that goes into the files, for many years there has been an automatic relay to my attention on anything concerning the Senior."

"Which I knew and that's why you didn't see it. Registered, yes, but by their mothers' names-host-mothers, actually, but not so reported. But I left a Delay-Mail sealed registration of the actual genealogy involved, to be opened by you or your successor on my death or in year 2070 of the Diaspora, whichever comes first, to insure that they will receive certain knickknacks, such as my second-best bed-"

"And the 'Dora!"

"Pipe down. Keep butting in and your sister gets the 'Dora' and you won't be captain even on alternate days. I picked that date, Justin, because I expect them to be adults by then; they really are geniuses. I will not attempt time travel until then, as they are captain and crew of my yacht-only while ground-side now but in space by then. As to how they are my sisters- and they are-an illegal-proscribed, rather, by Secundus Clinic-a clandestine surgical procedure was used to clone them from me. Somewhat like Minerva's case, but simpler."

"Much simpler," agreed Minerva. "I operated for me, when I was still a computer-and failed seventeen times before I achieved a perfect clone. I couldn't do it now, although Athene would be able to. But our girls were cloned by a flesh-and-blood surgeon-replication of the X chromosome was all that was necessary-and did it in both cases in one try; Laz and Lor were born the same day."

"Mmm- Yes, I think that Madam Director Doctor Hildegarde would take a sour view of such things. With no reflections on the lady's professional competence-high, I assume-I find her a bit, uh, conservative."

"Murderess."

"Primitive totalitarian."

"Three times over-"

"-for what right has she to say that we can't exist-"

"-or Minerva. Crypto-criminal mind!"

"That's enough, girls; you've made your point, you don't like her."

"She would have murdered you, too, Ol' Buddy Boy."

"Lori, I said that was enough. Stipulated that, if Nelly Hildegarde's policies had been carried out, I wouldn't be here, you wouldn't be here, Laz wouldn't be here, nor would Minerva. But she's not a, 'murderess,' as all four of us are here."

"And I am delighted,". Justin Foote commented. "To have three charming young ladies added to our Families through breaking rules proves something I have long suspected: Rules serve best when broken."

"A wise man-"

"-and with dimples, too. Mr. Foote, would you like to marry me and my sister?"

"Say 'Yes'! She can cook, but I'm cuddly."

Minerva said, "Stop it, girls."

"Why? Have you got him staked out already? Was that why we couldn't come in? Mr. Foote, Minerva is Mama Pro Tem to us by edict-"

"-which is patently unfair-"

"-as she is actually years and years younger than we are-"

"-and it gives us three mothers to dodge instead of the regulation one."

"Belay that," Lazarus ordered. "Both of you can cook, but neither of you is very cuddly."

"Then why do you cuddle us, Buddy Boy?"

"-suppressed incestuous yearning perhaps?"

"Merde. Because you both are immature, insecure, and frightened."

The redheads looked at each other. "Lori?"

"I heard it. Unless I'm hallucinating."

"No, I heard it, 'too."

"Is it time to cry?"

"We'd better save it. Mr. Foote wouldn't want to see how our Buddy Boy goes all to pieces when we cry."

"We'll save it. That makes two cries and a chin quivering he's got coming. Unless Mr. Foote would like to see it."

"Would you, Mr. Foote?"

"Justin, I'll sell either one of them cheap. Still better price on a package deal."

"Uh...thank you, Lazarus, but I'm afraid that they might cry at me-then I would go all to pieces. Can we change the subject? How did you manage to put over this triple, uh, irregularity? May one ask? Doctor Hildegarde runs a very taut organization."

"Well, in the case of those two little angels over there-"

"Sarcasm now-"

"-and not clever."

"-I was flummoxed quite as much as Nelly Hildegarde. At the time, Ishtar Hardy, that one's mother-"

"No, her mother."

"You two are interchangeable parts, and besides, you were mixed up the week you were born, and nobody knows which you are; you don't know yourself."

"Oh, yes, I do! Sometimes she goes away, but I'm always right here."

Lazarus paused in midflight, looked thoughtful. "That may be the most succinct statement of the solipsist thesis I've ever heard. Write it down."

"If I did, you'd take credit for it."

"I simply want to save it for posterity...a notion incompatible with the thesis itself. Minerva, you preserve it for me."

"Recorded, Lazarus."

"Minerva has almost as exact a memory as she had when she was a computer. I was saying: Ishtar was temporarily Clinic boss, Nelly having gone on leave, so access to my tissue was no problem. I was then in a state of acute anhedonia, and their mothers cooked up this notion for restoring my interest in life. The only problem was to do gene surgery not permitted by the rules of Secundus Clinic. How and who- I was told firmly not to inquire. You can ask Minerva; she was in on the swindle."

"Lazarus, that was a memory I did not bring along when I was selecting what to fit into this skull."

"You see, Justin? I'm allowed to know only what they think is good for me. As may be, this heroic treatment worked; I have not been bored since. Other descriptives might apply-but not that one."

"Lori, do you sense a double entendre?"

"No, merely a thinly veiled innuendo. Ignore it with dignity."

"But at first I didn't know my odd relationship to this pair. Oh, I couldn't help knowing that Ishtar, and Hamadryad-one of Ira's daughters; you've met her?"

"Years back. A lovely girl."

"Quite. Both of their mothers are lovely. I couldn't help knowing that both were pregnant; they were spending most of their time with me. But although they were swelling up like poisoned pups, they ignored it, so I didn't inquire."

Justine nodded. "Privacy."

"Naw, just hard-nosed. I've never let the privacy custom keep me from snooping when it suited me. I was miffed, that's all. Here two girls are with me every day and like daughters to me and obviously as knocked up as Pharaoh's Daughter- and they tell me nit. So I got stubborn and outsat them. Till one day Galahad-he's their husband-well, not exactly; you'll see-Galahad invites me downstairs, and here they have, one each, the two prettiest little redheads I ever saw."

"Shall we let him off one cry?"

"You got over it; you both look like me now."

"Or do we add a third cry for that?"

"I still don't smell a mouse; I'm simply pleased. As well as amazed that they had produced babies that looked like identical twins-"

"Which we are, except that we're triplets."

"But some weeks of playing with these babies causes my natural genius and suspicious mind to infer that the girls have pulled a whizzer. I was not then in the sperm bank so far as I knew, but I am well aware of tricks that can be played on a helpless client undergoing antigeria, so with unerring logic I reach the wrong answer: These babies are my daughters by artificial insemination unmentioned to me. So I accuse them' of it. And they deny it. And I explain that I am not angry, but quite the contrary I hope these little cherubs are mine."

"'Cherubs.'"

"Ignore it. He's simply trying to con Mr. Foote."

"Cherubs at that time, I mean, aside from a tendency to bite. That I want them to be mine and share my name, and fortunes. So they confer with their fellow conspirators- Minerva and Galahad-Minerva was in it up to her overload safeties."

"Lazarus, you needed a family."

"Quite right, dear. I'm always better off with a family; it keeps me harmlessly occupied and unbored. Justin, did I mention that Minerva allowed me to adopt her?"

"We weren't asked!"

"Look, kids, under the loose rules of this termite bill I can unadopt you this minute, if such be your wish. Cut the tie. Be just your genetic brother through circumstances I had no more part in than you had. Renounce all authority over you two. Let me know."

The two girls looked at each other briefly. Then one said, "Lazarus-"

"Yes, Lorelei?"

"Lapis Lazuli and I have discussed it, and we both think that you are just exactly the father we want."

"Thank you, my dears."

"And to confirm it, we are canceling two cries and a chin quiver."

"That's most pleasing."

"And besides that, we want to be cuddled...because we are feeling very immature, insecure, and frightened-"

Lazarus blinked. "I don't want you to feel that way, ever. But-Well, can the cuddling wait?"

"Oh, certainly-Father. We know we have a guest. But perhaps you and Mr. Foote would join us in bathing? Before dinner?"

"Well, Justin? Bathing with my hellions is squirmy but fun. I don't do it often because they turn it into a social event and waste time. Suit yourself; don't let your arm be twisted."

"A bath I certainly need. I was clean when I was sealed into that pod-but how long was I in it? I really don't know. And a bath should always be a social event if there is time and good company. Thank you ladies; I accept."

"And I accept, too," put in Minerva. "I'm inviting myself. Justin, Tertius is primitive compared with Secundus, but our family refresher is nice and quite large enough for sociability. 'Decadent,' as Lazarus calls it."

"I designed it to be decadent, Justin. Good plumbing is the finest flower of decadence and one I have always enjoyed when I could get it."

"Uh-my clothes are still in Ira's office. Even my toiletries. Absentminded, I'm sorry."

"No matter. Ira may fetch your bag, but he's absentminded, too. Depilatories, deodorants, scents-no problem. I'll lend you a toga or something."

"Buddy Boy! I mean 'Father.' Does that mean we dress for dinner?"

"Call me Buddy Boy; I'm hardened to it. Go as far as you like, darlings...except that as usual Mama Hamadryad must okay any cosmetics. Back to how I acquired these daughters who are my sisters, Justin: Having conferred, this gang of genetic pirates came clean and threw themselves on the mercy of the court. Me. So I adopted these two, and we registered them, and the registration will be straightened out one day, as I explained. How Minerva gave up the profession of computer and assumed the sorrows that flesh is heir to is a longer story. Want to synopsize it, dear?-and fill him in later if you wish."

"Yes, Father."

"None of your lip, dear; you're a grown woman now. Justin, when we woke this darling, she was about the size and biological age of those two reformed hellions-remind me to take their temperatures, Minerva. I adopted Minerva because she needed a father then. Doesn't now."

"Lazarus, I will always need you as my father."

"Thank you, my dear, but I take that only as a pleasing compliment. Tell Justin your story."

"All right. Justin, are you familiar with the theories concerning self-awareness in computers?"

"Several of them. As you know, my work is mostly with computers."

"Permit me to say, speaking from experience, all theories are empty. How a computer becomes self-aware remains as much a mystery, even to computers, as the age-old mystery of flesh-and-blood self-awareness. It just is. But, so far as I've heard-quite far in view of the library that was locked in my memories then and is still in Athene's memories-self-awareness never arises in a computer designed only for deductive logic and mathematical calculations, no matter how big it is.

But if it is designed for inductive logic, able to assess data, draw hypotheses therefrom, test them, reconstruct them to fit new data, make random comparisons of the results, and change those reconstructions-exercise judgment the way a flesh-and-blood does, then self-awareness may occur. But I don't know why and no computer knows. It just does."

She smiled. "Sorry, I did not mean to sound pedantic. Lazarus figured out that I could go into a blank human 'brain, a clone brain, using techniques used to conserve memories in rejuvenation clinics. When we discussed this, I had the entire technical library of Secundus' Howard Clinic in me-stolen, in a way. I no longer have it; I had to pick and choose what to take along when I went into this skull. So I don't remember much of what I did, any more than a rejuvenation client knows all that is done to-him; you would have to get details from Athene, who still has them-and who, by' the way, never had the rather painful awakening that a computer goes through when it first begins to know itself, because I left a piece of me in Athene, oh, like a yeast starter. Athene dimly remembers having been Minerva at one time-about the way we flesh-and-bloods"-Minerva straigntened up, smiled, and looked proud-"remember a dream as something not quite real. And I remember being Minerva the Computer some- what the same way. I remember all my contacts with people very sharply-because I chose to keep them, replicate them into this skull. But if anyone were to ask how I handled the transport system of New Rome...well, I know that I did, but not how I did it."

She smiled again. "That's my story: A computer who longed to be a flesh-and-blood and who had loving friends who made is possible...and I've never regretted it; I love being flesh-and-blood-and want to love everybody." She looked at Justin Foote very soberly. "Lazarus spoke sooth; I have never been a guest wife; I am only three years old as a flesh-and-blood. Should you choose me, you may find me awkward and shy-but not reluctant. I owe you much."

"Minerva," said Lazarus, "back him into a corner some other time. You didn't tell Justin what he wanted to know; you left out the hanky-panky."

"Oh."

"And when you were philosophizing about awareness in computers, you left out the key point, it seems to me, one I know but you may not even though you've been a computer and I have not. Because this key point applies both to computers and to flesh-and-bloods. My dear-and Justin-and it won't hurt you two erratic geniuses to listen-all machinery is animistic-'humanistic,' I want to say, but that term has been preempted. Any machine is a concept of a human designer; it reflects the human brain, be it wheelbarrow or giant computer. So there is nothing mysterious in a machine designed by a human showing human self-awareness; the mystery lies in awareness itself, wherever it's found. I used to have a folding camp cot that liked to bite me. I don't say that it was aware-but I learned to approach it with caution.

"But, Minerva, darling, I've seen some big computers, almost as smart as you were, that never developed self-awareness. Can you tell us why?"

"I confess I can't, Lazarus. I'd like to ask Athene when we get home."

"She probably doesn't know either; she's never met any other major computer but Dora. Captain Lazuli, how far back do you remember? Once you-or your comrade in crime-claimed to remember nursing. Suckling, I mean."

"Of course we do! Doesn't everybody?"

"No. Me, for example. I was a bottle baby; I don't remember even that. Not worth remembering. In consequence I've been looking at tits and admiring them ever since. Tell me, one of you, when you remember nursing, can you recall which of your mothers was giving you suck?"

"Of course!" Lorelei said scornfully. "Mama Ishtar has big tits-"

"-and Mama Hamadryad has much smaller ones even when they're filled with milk-"

"But she gave just as much milk."

"Different flavor though. Made it nice to trade off each meal. Variety."

"But we liked both flavors! Tell him, Laz."

"Enough. You've made the point I wanted. Justin, these kids were self-aware and aware of other people-their mothers at least-at an age when a crèche baby is just a doughy blob, which says something about why crèches have never worked well. I want the counterpoint: Minerva, what do you remember of the time when you were an unawakened clone?"

"Why, nothing, Lazarus. Oh, some odd dreams when I was putting me-my selected memories-into my new me, this one. But I didn't start that until lshtar said the clone was big enough. That was not until shortly before I withdrew from my former me and Ishtar woke me. It could not be instantaneous, Justin; a protein brain won't take data at computer speeds, Ishtar had me be very slow and careful. Then for a short time-short human time-I was both places, computer and skull; then I surrendered the computer and let it become Pallas Athene, and Ishtar woke me. But, Lazarus, a clone in-vitro is not aware; it's like a fetus in utero. No stimuli. Correction: minimum stimuli and nothing that leaves a permanent memory track. Unless you count reports of regression under hypnosis."

"No need to count them," Lazarus replied. "True or false, such cases are irrelevant. The relevant counterpoint is 'minimum stimuli' Honey, those big computers with awareness potential but without self-awareness are that way because nobody bothered to love the poor things. That's all. Babies or big computers-they become aware through being given: lots of personal attention. 'Love' as it's usually called. Minerva, does that theory match up with your earliest years?"

Minerva looked soberly thoughtful. "That was about a century ago in human time-call it a million times that in computer time. I know from the records that I was assembled a few years before Ira took office. But the earliest personal memories I have-and those memories I saved and did not leave in Athene or in the computer in New Rome-the earliest I can remember of me is waiting eagerly and happily for the next time Ira would speak to me."

Lazarus said, "I need not belabor the point. With babies you breast-feed them and nibble their toes and talk to them and blow in their bellybuttons and make them laugh. Computers don't have bellybuttons, but attention works just as well on them. Justin, Minerva tells me that she left nothing of herself in the computer under the palace."

"That is correct. I left it intact as a computer and programmed for all its duties...but I dared not leave any personal memory, any part of the me, could not let it remember that it had once been Minerva; that wouldn't have been fair to it. Lazarus warned me, and I was most careful, checking all the billions of bits and wiping where necessary."

Justin Foote said, "I missed a turn somehow. You did this in New Rome...but you've been awake here only three years?"

"Three wonderful years! You see-"

"Let me interrupt, dear; I'll tell him the hanky-panky. But first-Justin, have you dealt with the executive computer in New Rome since we migrated? Of course you have-but have you been in the office of Madam Chairman Pro Tem when she was using it?"

"Why, yes, several times. Just yesterday-no, I mean the yesterday before I left; I keep forgetting that I missed transit time."

"What name does she use in speaking with it?"

"I don't think she uses a name. I'm fairly certain she does not."

"Oh, the poor thing!"

"No, Minerva," Lazarus said quietly. "You left it in good health; it simply won't wake up until it has a mistress, or master, who appreciates it. Which might not be 'long," he added grimly.

Justin Foote said, "Might be any time. Lazarus, that old, uh-cancel that. Arabelle loves the spotlight. Appears at public meetings, shows up in the Colosseum. Stands up and waves her scarf. Seems odd, after the quiet way Ira ran things."

"I see. A sitting duck. Seven to two she's assassinated in the next five years."

"No bet. I'm a statistician, Lazarus."

"So you are. All right- Hanky-panky. Lots of it. Ishtar set up an auxiliary Howard Clinic in the Palace. Her excuse: Me, the Senior. But a cover-up for a much more extensive bio facility. Minerva picked her parents; Ishtar stole the tissues and faked some records. Meanwhile, our skinny friend my daughter Minerva-"

"She is not! She's just right for her height and body type and bio age!"

"-and deliciously curved!"

"-had twinned her computer self in a hold of my yacht 'Dora,' placing the contract in my name and charging it to me, and nobody dared inquire why the Senior-some advantages to age, especially among Howards-wanted a huge computer in a yacht that already had one of the fanciest computers in the sky. While, back in my borrowed penthouse where nobody was allowed to go-other than a short list all as- dishonest as' I am-a clone was growing in a facility installed in a room I didn't need.

"Comes time to migrate, a very large case containing what was then a very small clone, goes to the skyport marked as part of my personal baggage-this baggage between us, of course-and is loaded into the 'Dora' without inspection, such being a prerogative of being Chairman...for as you may recall I didn't hand the gavel back to Arabelle until our transports had lifted and I was about to raise ship myself, with Ira and the rest of my personal party aboard.

"While I'm taking the clone aboard, Minerva withdraws herself from the executive computer and is safe and snug in a hold of the 'Dora'...with her gizzards packed with every bit of data in the Grand Library and the entire records of the Howard Clinic including secret and confidential stuff. A most satisfying caper, Justin, the most good, clean, illegal fun I've had since we stole the 'New Frontiers.' But I'm telling you this not to boast-or not much-but to ask if we were as slick as we thought we were. Any rumors? Did you suspect anything amiss? How about Arabelle?"

"I feel sure that Arabelle does not suspect. Nor have I heard of Nelly Hildegarde bursting any blood vessels. Mmm, I suspected something."

"Really. Where did we slip?"

"Hardly the word, Lazarus. Minerva, when I had occasion to consult you, while Ira was Chairman Pro Tem, how did we talk?"

"Why, you were always most friendly, Justin. You always told me why you wanted something instead of just telling me to dig it out. You would chat, too; you were never too much in a hurry to be pleasant. That's why I remember you so warmly."

"And that, Lazarus, is why I sniffed something dead behind the arras. You and your party had been gone about a week when I wanted something from the executive computer. When you have an old friend with a pleasant voice-your voice is unchanged, Minerva; I should have recognized it-but I was bedazzled by your appearance-when you call this old friend and are answered by a flat, mechanical voice...and any deviation from programming language is answered by: 'NULL PROGRAM-REPEAT-WAITING FOR PROGRAM'-then you know that an old friend is dead." He smiled at the girl between them. "So I can't tell you how delighted I am to learn that my old friend was reborn as a lovely young girl."

Minerva squeezed his hand, blushed slightly, and said nothing.

"Hmm-' Justin, did you compare notes with anyone?"

"Ancestor, do you think I'm a fool? I mind my own business."

"Apology, about grade two. No, you're not a fool, unless you go back and work for the old harridan."

"When will the next wave of migrants head this way? I hate to waste the work I've done on your life, and I would hate to abandon my personal library."

"Well, sir, no tellin' when a streetcar will be by this time o' night. Discuss it later." Lazarus added, "That's our house ahead."

Justin Foote looked, saw a building partly visible through trees, turned back to speak to Minerva. "Something you said earlier, Cousin, I did not understand. You said 'I owe you so much.' If I was pleasant to you-at New Rome, I 'mean-you were at least as pleasant to me. More likely the debt is the other way; you were always most helpful."

Instead of answering, she looked' at Lazarus. He said, "Your business, my dear."

Minerva took a deep breath, then said, "I plan to name twenty-three of my children for my twenty-three parents."

"So? That seems most warmly appropriate."

"You're not my cousin, Justin-you're my father. One of them."