Robert Heinlein - The Number of the Beast

"No, Jake. What does it mean?"

"I'll explain it," Dora said eagerly. "It means we see and hear but pretend not to. Like last night when-"

"Later, Dora. Over your private circuits. What ship's time is it and are we late for breakfast? I don't see a clock."

"I'm the clock. It is ship's time nine-oh-three. You are not last for breakfast. Commander Laz is sleeping late; she didn't go to bed right after the mutiny. Captain Long-that's Lor-ate on the bridge-a crude insult to my watchstanding but she's good company. The Commodore always eats breakfast in the flag cabin. The Doctors Deety and Zeb and Lib are just starting."

"How are they dressed?" asked my Hilda.

"In serviettes. Doctor Lib is wearing 'Jungle Flower' in cologne and powder and perfume; she likes strong ones. Doctor Zeb seems to have forgotten to use any but his own scent is rather pleasant. I can't place what Doctor Deety is Wearing but it has both musk and sandalwood. Shall I formularize it by symbols?"

"It's 'Blue Hour' and I'm startled; my stepdaughter doesn't need a scent. Neither does Lib, darn it. Jacob, are you ready?"

I answered at once. I had taken care of this and that while the computers chattered, including trying a depilatory tricky until I learned how to block it

off-my sideburns were missing. Zeb dressed in a serviette- Libby Long the only one not of our family-and Lib used to be male. A good time to rub blue mud in my belly button- "I'm ready."

Hilda noticed my decision by not noticing it. The blue "Tinker-Bell" light appeared, led us to a small dining room, where we encountered a Long-Family custom-did not realize it because it matched a ceremony of our own: Lib saw us, came over, kissed Hilda, kissed me-briefly but with time-stop. Then my daughter was kissing me good-morning while Zeb kissed my wife. We swapped as usual; Deety kissed Hilda-and Zeb took my shoulders, hissed into my ear, "Stand still"-and gave me the double Latin kiss, each cheek.

Did my blood brother think I would let him down in the presence of one not of our family? Our custom had started after our double elopement. While Zeb and I usually used the Latin symbol, four rapid pecks, once at Snug Harbor we had missed the fast timing, hit each other mouth to mouth-didn't pull back but didn't stretch it out. We declined to make anything of it-although I was aware of the break in taboo and he was, too.

Two mornings later I was last in; Zeb was seated with his back to me. He leaned back and turned his head to speak to me; I leaned down, kissed him on the mouth firmly but briefly, moved on and kissed my daughter not as briefly, moved on and kissed my wife thoroughly, sat down and demanded, "What's for breakfast?"

After that the only invariant was: "What's for breakfast?" Zeb and I used either Latin pecks or busses on the mouth-brief, dry, symbolic, initiated by either of us. It meant that we were closer than a handshake; it held no sexual significance.

SO I was disgrunted that Zeb thought it was necessary to warn me. Let me add: Women are my orientation and Hilda my necessity. But I tried the other way with my high school chum our graduation week. We were experimenting to find out what the shooting was all about-planned but date subject to opportunity-which turned up that last week of school. A two-hour examination, no other school that day; a half hour of tennis, sudden realization that we were free and that his parents' flat was empty and would remain so until late afternoon. Der Tag!

We gave it a fair trial. We bathed first and thoroughly. We were not shy or afraid of each other. We were not afraid of getting caught-doors locked and bolted, chains on, S.O.P. by his parents' rules. We liked each other and wanted it to work. Total failure- Got up, had peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches with milk, discussed it as

we ate. Neither of us upset, not disgusted, no bad breath or similar hazards- but no results.

Brushed our teeth again, washed each other-gave it a second try. So much calisthenics. No "morals" about it, willing and eager to add it on. Not for us- so we killed all evidence and got in three more sets of tennis.

That's how it is with Zeb and me. I love him dearly-but I love him for what

he is-while fully empathizing that my daughter thinks he is the greatest lover since- Well, the greatest.

But if Zeb ever makes a pass at me, I will do my amateur-acting best to make him feel that this is what I have been waiting for all my life.

I've been trying to say why I was miffed. Never mind, I shall make it clear to Zeb that I will never let him down.

About that Long-Family custom- "Long" is not the name of a Howard Family; it is a group of Howards who live together and who added "Long" (the pseudonym most used by Lazarus) to their regular names. It's a commune, an extended family, a serial family, a god-knows-what. There is probably no word for it in any language and at least two computers are full members. They come and go and raise children and only the family geneticist (Doctor Ishtar) is sure of parentage and who cares? I suspect that they are all ambi in sex but no outsider could guess-and I am an outsider.

But of this I am certain: When Long meets Long for the first time any day, they kiss-and it's no Latin peck.

I learned that I could have anything I wanted for breakfast. This should have been enough to tell me that we were being set up for the tale. I'm getting ahead of my story, as I know things about the Long Family that I read in a book that you may not have read. This ship Dora came from a planet many parsecs from the Earth-analog of that universe, from a time over two thousand years in my future looked at one way... or a time totally irrelevant to mine through not having duration axis in common.

Yet I could have anything: Post Toasties, hens' eggs any style, bacon, ham, sausage, breakfast steak, toast, orange marmalade, Concord grape jelly, buckwheat cakes-and not one of these foods is from Tertius, home of the Long Family.

Pepsodent in our 'fresher- As I was contemplating a beautiful golden waffle with one bite of it melting

in my mouth, Lazarus Long walked in....nd a voice in my head played back: 'The Commodore always eats breakfast in the flag cabin."

Add that Lazarus was dressed as were Zeb and I save that he did not yet have a napkin.

Working hypothesis: Lazarus had listened in on every word between husband and wife.

Second hypothesis: "Dora, tell me when they get up, tell me when they arrive in the breakfast room-if they do, but offer trays as usual. If they eat in the breakfast room, let me know how each is dressed."

The first hypothesis defines a grave social offense; the second outlines information a host or hostess is entitled to know. How do I find out which is which? Answer: I can't, as Lazarus Long will give me the answer that profits him and that computer is loyal to him, not to me.

As soon as Lazarus finished kissing Lib Long, he was grabbed by Deety and kissed....hen he caught Hilda's eye, glanced at me and sloooowly bent to kiss her, giving her and me, severally, time to make that tiny gesture that says

No-and did kiss her because I depend on Hilda's instincts and will never tell her No in such circumstances, or greater or lesser. Hilda put her hand back of his neck and thereby controlled the kiss and made it long-and I tore up the first hypothesis and marked the second one "Q.E.D." Hilda's instincts about people are infallible; I think she is a touch telepathic.

As may be, we would now help him if possible.

To Zeb and me he simply said, "Good morning"-his instincts are reputed to be infallible, too.

I agreed that it was a "good morning" while noting to myself that it was a symbol without a referent save for social connotation (morning? In an irrelevancy?) but added sincerely, "Lazarus, this is the best waffle I ever tasted."