Robert Heinlein - The Number of the Beast

"What book?" demanded Hilda.

"Those romances about interstellar exploration. There's always a giant mother ship in orbit, loaded with everything from catheters to Coca-Cola, and scouting is by landing craft, in touch with the mother ship. Somehow, we aren't doing it that way."

(All the more reason to conduct drill as realistically as possible. Jake or I, one of us, is honor bound to stay alive to take care of two women and unborn children; exterminating 'Black-Hat' vermin holds a poor second to that.)

"Zebbie, why are you staring at me?"

I hadn't known that I was. "Trying to figure how to dress you, dear. Sharpie, you look cute in jewelry and perfume. But it's not enough for a sortie in the bush. Take 'em off and put 'em away. You, too, Deety. Deety, do you have another jump suit that can be pinned up or stitched up for Hilda?"

"A something, sure. But it would take hours to do a good job. My sewing kit isn't much."

"Hours' will have to be another day. Today we'll make do with safety pins. But take time to do a careful job of padding her feet into your stoutest shoes. Confound it, she should have field boots. Sharpie, remind me when we make that shopping trip to Earth-without-a-J."

"To hear is to obey, Exalted One. Is it permitted to make a parliamentary inquiry?"

She startled me. "Hilda, what did I do to cause that frosty tone?"

"It was what you didn't do." Suddenly she smiled, reached high and patted my cheek. "You mean well, Zebbie. But you slipped. While Gay Deceiver is on the ground, we're equal. But you've been giving orders right and left."

I started to answer; Jake cut in. "Hilda my love, for a scouting expedition the situation becomes equivalent to a craft in motion. Again we require a captain."

Sharpie turned toward her husband. "Conceded, sir. But may I point out that we are not yet on that hike? Zebbie has consulted you; he has not consulted Deety and me. He asked us for information-darned seldom! Aside from that he has simply laid down the law. What are we, Zebbie? Poor little female critters whose opinions are worthless?"

Caught with your hand in the cooky jar, throw yourself on the mercy of the court.

"Sharpie, you're right and I'm dead wrong. But before you pass sentence I claim extenuating circumstances: Youth and inexperience, plus long and faithful service."

"You can't," put in my helpful wife. "You can plead one or the other but not both. They can't overlap."

Sharpie stood on tiptoes and kissed my chin. "In Zebbie's case they do overlap. Do you still want to know what to use as water canteens?"

"Certainly!"

"Then why didn't you ask?"

"But I did!"

"No, Cap'n Zebbie; you did not ask and did not even give us time to volunteer the answer."

"I'm sorry, Hilda. Too many things on my mind."

"I know, dear; Sharpie does not mean to scold. But I had to get your attention."

"That baseball bat?"

"Almost. For an ersatz canteen- A hot-water bottle?"

Again she startled me. "In the danger we were in when we left, you worried about cold feet in bed? And packed a hot-water bottle?"

"Two," answered Deety. "Aunt Hilda fetched one. So did I."

"Deety, you don't have cold feet and neither do I."

Sharpie said, "Deety, is he actually that naïve?"

"I'm afraid he is, Aunt Hilda. But he's sweet."

"And brave," added Hilda. "But retarded in spots. They do overlap in Zebbie's case. He's unique."

"What," I demanded, "are you talking about?"

"Aunt Hilda means that, when you refitted Gay, you neglected to install a bidet."

"Oh." That was the wittiest I could manage. "It's not a subject I give much thought to."

"No reason you should, Zebbie. Although men use them, too."

"Zebadiah does. Pop, too. Bidets, I mean. Not hot-water bottles."

"I meant hot-water bottles, dear. As medical officer I may find it necessary to administer an enema to the Captain."

"Oh, no!" I objected. "You're not equipped."

"But she is, Zebadiah. We fetched both sorts of nozzles."

"But you didn't fetch four husky orderlies to hold me down. Let's move on.

Sharpie, what was the advice you would have given if I had been bright enough to consult you?"

"Some is not advice but a statement of fact. I'm not going for a hike on a hot day swaddled in a pinned-up jump suit eight sizes too big. While you all play Cowboys-and-Indians, I'm going to curl up in my seat and read 'The Oxford Book of English Verse.' Thank you for fetching it, Jacob."

"Hilda beloved, I will worry."

"No need to worry about me, Jacob. I can always tell Gay to lock her doors. But, were I to go with you, I would be a handicap. You three are trained to fight; I'm not." Sharpie turned toward me. "Captain, since I'm not going, that's all I have to say."

What was there for me to say? "Thank you, Hilda. Deety, do you have things on your mind?"

"Yes, sir. I go along with field boots and jump suits and so forth even though they'll be beastly hot. But I wish you would change your mind about your sword and Pop's saber. Maybe they aren't much compared with rifles but they're good for my morale."

Hilda interjected, "Had I decided to go, Captain, I would have said the same. Possibly it is an emotional effect from what happened, uh-was it only yesterday?-but perhaps it is subconscious logic. Just yesterday bare blades defeated a man-a thing, an alien-armed with a firearm and ready to use it."

Jake spoke up. "Captain, I didn't want to take off my saber."

"We'll wear them." Any excuse is a good excuse to wear a sword. "Are we through? We've lost an hour and the Sun is dropping. Deety?"

"One more thing, Zebadiah-and I expect to be outvoted. I say to cancel the hike."

"So? Princess, you've said too much or not enough."

"If we do this, we spend the night here-sitting up. If we chase the Sun instead- There were lights on the night side that looked like cities. There was blue on the day side that looked like a sea. I think I saw canals. But whether we find something or not, at worst we'll catch up with sunrise and be able to sleep outdoors in daylight, just as we did today."

"Deety! Gay can overtake the Sun. Once. You want to use all her remaining juice just to sleep outdoors?"

"Zebadiah, I wasn't planning on using any power."

"Huh? It sounded like it."

"Oh, no! Do transitions of three minima or more, bearing west. Aim us out of the atmosphere; we fall back in while looking for places of interest. As we reenter, we glide, but where depends on what you want to look at. When you have stretched the glide to the limit, unless you decide to ground, you do another transition. There is great flexibility, Zebadiah. You can reach sunrise line in the next few minutes. Or you could elect to stay on the day side for weeks, never land, never use any juice, and inspect the entire planet from pole to pole."

"Maybe Gay can stay up for weeks-but not me. I'm good for several more hours. With that limitation, it sounds good, How about it? Hilda? Jake?"

"You mean that female suffrage is permanent? I vote Yes!" Jake said, "You have a majority; no need for a male vote." "Jacob!" his wife said reproachfully.

"Joking, my dear. It's unanimous."

I said, "Somebody just cancelled the election. Look there." We all looked. Deety said, "What is it? A pterodactyl?" "No, an ornithopter. A big one."

Something is gained in translation-

Hilda:

Jacob tightened his arm around me. "Zeb," he said softly, "I don't believe it." He was staring (we all were) at this mechaniwockle pteranodon coming at us over the hills in the west.

"Neither do I;" Zebbie answered. "Wrong wing loading. Impossible articulation. There's a second one. A third! All hands! Grab your clothes! Man the ship! Prepare to lift! Move! Jake, unbuckle your saber and into your jump suit, fast!"