Robert Heinlein - The Number of the Beast

"Huh?"

"Zebadiah, the 'Black Hats' are aliens who don't want Pop to build a timespace machine. We know that. So it follows that they have continua craft.

I thouaht about it. "Deety. I'm going to bring you breakfast in bed. Jake, how do we spot an alien continua craft? It doesn't have to look like Gay Deceiver."

Jake frowned. "No. Any shape. But a one-passenger craft might not be much larger than a phone booth."

"If it's a one-man-one-alien-job, it should be parked down in that scrub," I said, pointing. "We can find it."

"Zebadiah," protested Deety, "we don't have time to search. We ought to get out of here! Fast!"

Jake said, "My daughter is right but not for that reason. Its craft is not necessarily waiting. It could be parked an infinitesimal interval away along any of six axes, and either return automatically, preprogrammed, or by some method of signaling that we can postulate but not describe. The alien craft would not be here-now... but will be here-later. For pickup."

"In that case, Jake, you and I and the gals should scram out of here-now to there-then. Be missing. How long has our pressure test been running? What time is it?"

"Seventeen-seventeen," Deety answered instantly.

I looked at my wife. "Naked as a frog. Where do you hide your watch, dearest? Surely, not there."

She stuck out her tongue. "Smarty. I have a clock in my head. I never mention it because people give me funny looks."

"Deety does have innate time sense," agreed her father, "accurate to thirteen seconds plus or minus about four seconds; I've measured it."

"I'm sorry, Zebadiah-I don't mean to be a freak."

"Sorry about what, Princess? I'm impressed. What do you do about time zones?"

"Same as you do. Add or subtract as necessary. Darling, everyone has a built-in circadian. Mine is merely more nearly exact than most people's. Like having absolute pitch-some do, some don't."

"Are you a lightning calculator?"

"Yes... but computers are so much faster that I no longer do it much. Except one thing- I can sense a glitch-spot a wrong answer. Then I look for garbage in the program. If I don't find it, I send for a hardware specialist. Look, sweetheart, discuss my oddities later. Pop, let's dump that thing down the septic tank and go. I'm nervous, I am."

"Not so fast, Deety." Hilda was still squatting by the corpse. "Zebbie. Consult your hunches. Are we in danger?"

"Well... not this instant."

"Good. I want to dissect this creature."

"Aunt Hilda!"

"Take a Miltown, Deety. Gentlemen, the Bible or somebody said, 'Know thy enemy.' This is the only 'Black Hat' we've seen... and he's not human and not born on earth. There is a wealth of knowledge lying here and it ought not to be shoved down a septic tank until we know more about it. Jacob, feel this."

Hilda's husband got down on his knees, let her guide his hand through the "ranger's" hair. "Feel those bumps, dearest?"

"Yes!"

"Much like the budding horns of a lamb, are they not?"

"Oh- 'And I beheld another beast coming up out of the earth; and he had two horns like a lamb, and he spake as a dragon'!"

I squatted down, felt for horn buds. "Be damned! He did come up out of the earth-up this slope anyhow-and he spake as a dragon. Talked unfriendly, and all the dragons I've ever heard of talked mean or belched fire. Hilda, when you field-strip this critter, keep an eye out for the Number of the Beast."

"I shall! Who's going to help me get this specimen up to the house? I want three volunteers."

Deety gave a deep sigh, "I volunteer. Aunt Hilda....ust you do this?"

"Deety, it ought to be done at Johns Hopkins, with x-ray and proper tools and color holovision. But I'm the best biologist for it because I'm the only biologist. Honey child, you don't have to watch. Aunt Sharpie has helped in an emergency room after a five-car crash; to me, blood is just a mess to clean up. Green blood doesn't bother me even that much."

Deety gulped. "I'll help carry. I said I would!"

"Dejah Thoris!"

"Sir? Yes, my Captain?"

"Back away from that. Take this. And this." I unbuckled sword and belt, shoved down my swimming briefs, handed all of it to Deety. "Jake, help me get him up into fireman's carry."

"I'll help carry, Son."

"No, I can tote him easier than two could. Sharpie, where do you want to work?"

"It will have to be the dining table."

"Aunt Hilda, I don't want that thing on my-! I beg your pardon; it's your dining table."

"You're forgiven only if you'll concede that it is our dining table. Deety, how many times must I repeat that I am not crowding you out of your home? We are co-housewives-my only seniority lies in being twenty years older. To my regret."

"Hilda my dear one, what would you say to a workbench in the garage with a drop cloth on it and flood lights over it?"

"I say, 'Swell!' I don't think a dining table is the place for a dissection, either. But I couldn't think of anywhere else."

With help from Jake, I got that damned carcass draped across my shoulders in fireman's carry. Deety started up the path with me, carrying my belt and sword and my briefs in one arm so that she could hold my free hand-despite my warning that she might be splashed with alien blood. "No, Zebadiah, I got overtaken by childishness. I won't let it happen again. I must conquer all squeamishness-I'll be changing diapers soon." She was silent a moment. "That is the first time I've seen death. In a person, I mean. An alien humanoid person I should say... but I thought he was a man. I once saw a puppy run over-I threw up. Even though it was not my puppy and I didn't go close." She added, "An adult should face up to death, should she not?"

"Face up to it, yes," I agreed. "But not grow calloused. Deety, I've seen too

many men die. I've never grown inured to it. One must accept death, learn not to fear it, then never worry about it. 'Make Today Count!' as a friend whose days are numbered told me. Live in that spirit and when death comes, it will come as a welcome friend."

"You say much what my mother told me before she died."

"Your mother must have been an extraordinary woman. Deety, in the two weeks I've known you, I've heard so much about her from all three of you that I feel as if I knew her. A friend I hadn't seen lately. She sounds like a wise woman."

"I think she was, Zebadiah. Certainly she was good. Sometimes, when I have a hard choice, I ask myself, 'What would Mama do?'-and everything falls into place."

"Both good and wise... and her daughter shows it. Uh, how old are you, Deety?"

"Does it matter, sir?"

"No. Curiosity."

"I wrote my birth date on our marriage license application."

"Beloved, my head was spinning so hard that I had trouble remembering my own. But I should not have asked-women have birthdays, men have ages. I want to know your birthday; I have no need to know the year."

"April twenty-second, Zebadiah-one day older than Shakespeare."

"Age could not wither her-' Woman, you carry your years well."

"Thank you, sir."

"That snoopy question came from having concluded in my mind that you were twenty-six....iguring from the fact that you have a doctor's degree. Although you look younger."

"I think twenty-six is a satisfactory age."

"I wasn't asking," I said hastily. "I got confused from knowing Hilda's age... then hearing her say that she is-or claims to be-twenty years older than you. It did not jibe with my earlier estimate, based on your probable age on graduating from high school plus your two degrees."

Jake and Hilda had lingered at the pool while Jake washed his hands and rinsed from his body smears of alien ichor. Being less burdened, they climbed the path faster than we and came up behind us just as Deety answered,

"Zebadiah, I never graduated from high school."