Robert Heinlein - The Number of the Beast

"Null report, Boss."

"Thank you, Gay."

"You're welcome, Zeb."

"Program, Gay. Add running news retrieval. Area, Arizona Strip north of Grand Canyon plus Utah. Persons: all persons listed in current running news retrieval programs plus rangers, Federal rangers, forest rangers, park rangers, state rangers. End of added program."

"New program running, Boss."

"Program. Add running acoustic report, maximum gain."

"New program running, Zeb."

"You're a smart girl, Gay."

"Isn't it time you married me?"

"Good night, Gay."

"Good night, Zeb. Sleep with your hands outside the covers."

"Deety, you've corrupted Gay. I'll run a lead outdoors for a microphone

while Jake moves the basement intercom to the master bedroom. But maximum gain will put a coyote yapping ten miles away right into bed with you. Jake, I can tell Gay to subtract acoustic report from the news retrieval for your bedroom."

"Hilda my love, do you want the acoustic subtracted?"

I didn't but didn't say so; Gay interrupted:

"Running news retrieval, Boss."

"Report!"

"Reuters, Straits Times, Singapore. Tragic News of Marston Expedition. Indonesian News Service, Palembang. Two bodies identified as Dr. Cecil Yang and Dr. Z. Edward Carter were brought by jungle buggy to National Militia Headquarters, Telukbetung. The district commandant stated that they will be transferred by air to Palembang for further transport to Singapore when the commandant-in-chief releases them to the Minister of Tourism and Culture. Professor Marston and Mr. Smythe-Belisha are still unreported. Commandants of both districts concede that hopes of finding them alive have diminished. However, a spokesman for the Minister of Tourism and Culture assured a press conference that the Indonesian government would pursue the search more assiduously than ever."

Zebbie whistled tunelessly. Finally, he said, "Opinions, anyone?"

"He was a brilliant man, Son," my husband said soberly. "An irreplaceable loss. Tragic."

"Ed was a good Joe, Jake. But that's not what I mean. Our tactical situation. Now. Here."

My husband paused before answering, "Zeb, whatever happened in Sumatra apparently happened about a month ago. Emotionally I feel great turmoil. Logically I am forced to state that I cannot see that our situation has changed."

"Hilda? Deety?"

"News retrieval report," announced Gay.

"Report!"

"AP San Francisco via satellite from Saipan, Marianas. TWA hypersonicsemiballistic liner Winged Victory out of San Francisco International at twenty o'clock this evening Pacific Coast Time was seen by eye and radar to implode on reentry. AP Honolulu US Navy Official. USS Submersible Carrier Flying Fish operating near Wake Island has been ordered to proceed flank speed toward site of Winged Victory reentry. She will surface and launch search craft at optimum point. Navy PlO spokesman, when asked what was 'optimum,' replied 'No comment.' Associated Press's military editor noted that submerged speed of Flying Fish class, and type and characteristics of craft carried, are classified information. AP-UPI add San Francisco, Winged Victory disaster. TWA public relations released a statement quote if reports received concerning Winged Victory are correct it must be tentatively assumed that no survivors can be expected. But our engineering department denies that implosion could be cause. Collision with orbital debris decaying into atmosphere or even a strike by a meteor could repeat could endrep cause disaster by mischance so

unlikely that it can only be described as an Act of God endquote TWA spokesmen released passenger list by order of the Civil Aerospace Board. List follows:

California-"

The list was longish. I did not recognize any names until Gay reached: "Doctor Neil 0. Brain-"

I gasped. But no one said a word until Gay announced:

"End running news retrieval."

"Thank you, Gay."

"A pleasure, Zeb."

Zebbie said, "Professor?"

"You're in command, Captain!"

"Very well, sir! All of you-lifeboat rules! I expect fast action and no back talk. Estimated departure-five minutes! First everybody take a pee! Second, put on the clothes you'll travel in. Jake, switch off, lock up-whatever you do to secure your house for long absence. Deety-follow Jake, make sure he hasn't missed anything-then you, not Jake, switch out lights and close doors. Hilda, bundle what's left of that Dutch lunch and fetch it-fast, not fussy. Check the refrigerator for solid foods-no liquids-and cram what you can into Gay's refrigerator. Don't dither over choices. Questions, anyone? Move!"

I gave Jacob first crack at our bathroom because the poor dear tenses up; I used the time to slide sandwiches into a freezer sack and half a pie into another. Potato salad? Scrape it into a third and stick in one plastic picnic spoon; germs were now community property. I stuffed this and some pickles into the biggest freezer sack Deety stocked, and closed it.

Jake came out of our bedroom; I threw him a kiss en passant, ducked into our john, turned on water in the basin, sat down, and recited mantras-that often works when I'm jumpy-then used the bidet-patted it and told it goodbye without stopping. My travel clothes were Deety's baby tennis shoes with a green-and-gold denim miniskirt dress of hers that came to my knees but wasn't too dreadful with a scarf to belt it. Panties? I had none. Deety had put a pair of hers out for me-but her size would fall off me. Then I saw that the dear baby had gotten at the elastic and knotted it. Yup! pretty good fit-and, with no telling when our next baths would be, panties were practical even though a nuisance.

I spread my cape in front of the refrigerator, dumped my purse and our picnic lunch into it, started salvaging-half a boned ham, quite a bit of cheese, a loaf and a half of bread, two pounds of butter (freezer sacks, and the same for the ham-if Deety hadn't had a lavish supply of freezer sacks I could not have salvaged much-as it was, I didn't even get spots on my cape). I decided that jams and jellies and catsup were liquid within Zebbie's meaning-except some in squeeze tubes. Half a chocolate cake, and the cupboard was bare.

By using my cape as a Santa Claus pack, I carried food into the garage and put it down by Gay-and was delighted to find that I was first.

Zebbie strode in behind me, dressed in a coverall with thigh pockets, a pilot suit. He looked at the pile on my cape. "Where's the elephant, Sharpie?"

"Cap'n Zebbie, you didn't say how much, you just said what. What won't go she can have." I hooked a thumb at the chopped-up corpse.

"Sorry, Hilda; you are correct." Zebbie glanced at his wrist watch, the multiple-dial sort they call a "navigator's watch."

"Cap'n, this house has loads of gimmicks and gadgets and bells and whistles. You gave them an impossible schedule."

"On purpose, dear. Let's see how much food we can stow."

Gay's cold chest is set flush in the deck of the driver's compartment. Zebbie told Gay to open up, then with his shoulders sideways, reached down and unlocked it. "Hand me stuff."

I tapped his butt. "Out of there, you overgrown midget, and let Sharpie pack. I'll let you know when it's tight as a girdle."

Space that makes Zebbie twist and grunt is roomy for me. He passed things in, I fitted them for maximum stowage. The third item he handed me was the leavings of our buffet dinner. "That's our picnic lunch," I told him, putting it on his seat.

"Can't leave it loose in the cabin."

"Cap'n, we'll eat it before it can spoil. I will be strapped down; is it okay if I clutch it to my bosom?"

"Sharpie, have I ever won an argument with you?"

"Only by brute force, dear. Can the chatter and pass the chow."

With the help of God and a shoehorn it all went in. I was in a back seat with our lunch in my lap and my cape under me before our spouses showed up. "Cap'n Zebbie? Why did the news of Brainy's death cause your change of mind?"