Robert Heinlein - The Number of the Beast

"Zebbie, we get along all right."

He reached back and patted my knee. "Pretty well in the past. Better from now on."

My darling Jacob said worriedly, "I'm afraid I have been remiss, too."

I was about to reassure him when Deety cut in: "Remiss'! Pop, you're the worst of all! If I had been your wife, I would have tossed you back and rebaited my hook. 'Farce' is worse than mutinous; it's insulting. Be glad Jane didn't hear you!"

"I know, I know!"

I touched Deety's arm and whispered, "That's enough, dear."

Zebbie said soberly, "Captain, as I analyze it, you made a mistake in sign. Every navigator makes mistakes-and has some routine by which to check his work. If you're going to get upset because recheck shows that you wrote down 'plus' when the declination is 'south,' you're going to have ulcers. You're just under strain from being C.O. We've all made the strain worse. But we want to do better. I'd hate to have you resign over a minor error... when we caused your upset. I hope you'll give us another chance."

Captains aren't supposed to cry. I blinked 'em back, got my voice under control, and said, "All hands! Still ready for lift? Report."

"Aye, Captain!"-"Affirmative!"-"Yes, my dear Hilda."

"Zebbie, switch on Gay's ears." He did.

"Execute!"-Termite Creek was gone and we were fifty klicks west and a touch south. Pretty and green but no Bingo. It would take us about seven minutes to overtake the Sun and approach sunrise line, plus any holds we made. Then I would go east to the sunset line in nothing flat (have Zebbie and Jacob do it); then bounce & glide, bounce & glide, while looking for a place to sleep in a spot suitable for Gay to try her new unpowered autogrounding program-in daylight with the hottest pilot in two worlds ready to override any error.

If Gay could do this, we would be almost independent of juice-and have

a new "bug-out" sanctuary each time she landed herself. Power packs-Zebbie had a hand-cranked D.C. generator-but heavy work for husky men for endless hours. (40 hrs from zero to full charge; you see why Zebbie would rather buy fresh charges.)

We had been skipping along nearly three minutes, over four thousand klicks, before spotting a Bingo (by Zebbie). I called a "Hold" and added, "Where, Zebbie?"

He nosed us down. Farm buildings and cultivated fields-a happy contrast to the terrain-barren, green, flat, rugged-all lacking any sign of humans, in the stops we had made. "Astrogator, record time. Continue."

Then over three minutes with no Bingoes- At elapsed time 6m4s Jacob called out, "Bingo! A town."

"Hold! Onion towers?"

"I think not, dear. I see a flag-dare we go nearer?"

"Yes! But anyone use a scram at will. Jacob, may I have the binoculars, please?"

The Stars and Stripes are engraved on my heart, but in the next moments the Cross of Saint Andrew and the Cross of Saint George were added. It was an ensign with a blue field and some white shapes-three half moons in three sizes.

"Gay Deceiver."

"I'm all ears, Hilda."

"Move current program to standby."

"Roger Wilco Done."

"Gay Bounce. Zebbie, let's sweep this area for a bigger settlement."

Zebbie placed a locus around the town, radius five hundred klicks, and started "A Tramp Abroad" with vertex time cut to one second. Thirty-one minutes later we had a city. I guessed it at a hundred thousand plus.

"Captain," Zebbie said, "may I suggest that we bounce and try to raise them by radio? This place is big enough for A.A. guns or missiles-"

"Gay Bounce!"

"-and we know that their Slavic neighbors have aircraft."

"Is your guardian angel warning you?"

"Well... 'tain't polite to ground without clearance; such rudeness can make one suddenly dead."

"Gay Bounce, Gay Bounce. Are we out of reach of missiles?"

"Captain, British and Russians of this universe are ahead of us in spaceships or they wouldn't be here. That requires us to assume that their missiles and lasers and X-weapons are better than ours."

"What's an 'X-weapon'? And what do you advise?"

"I advise evasive tactics. An X-weapon is a 'Nobody-Knows."

"Evasive tactics, your choice. I assume you won't waste juice."

"No juice. Jake, gallop in all directions. Up, down, and sideways. Don't wait for 'Execute'; jump as fast as you can. That's it! Keep moving!"

"Captain Auntie, may I suggest an easier way?"

"Sneak un. Deetv."

"Zebadiah, how big is that city? Kilometers."

"That's indefinite. Oh, call it eight klicks in diameter."

"You've got that one-second 'Tramp' program on hold. Change locus. Center on that biggest building, make the radius six klicks. Then start program and Pop can rest."

"Uh....eety, I'm stupid. Six klicks radius, ten klicks is a minimum- A bit tight?"

"Meant to be. Shall I draw a picture?"

"Maybe you'd better."

(Deety had defined an annulus two kilometers wide, outer radius six, inner radius four. We would "circle" the city six klicks above ground, random jumps, sixty per minute. I doubted that even robot weapons could find us, range us, hit us, in one second.)

Deety loosened her belt, slithered forward, and sketched. Suddenly Zebbie said, "Gotcha! Deety, you're a smart girl."

"Boss, I'll bet you tell that to all the girls."

"Nope, just smart ones. Gay Deceiver!"

"Less noise, please."

"Program revision. A Tramp Abroad. Locus a circle radius six klicks. Center defined by next Bingo. Acknowledge paraphrase."

"Revised program A Tramp Abroad. Circle twelve klicks diameter center next real-time Bingo."

"Jake, put us over that big building downtown. If necessary, make several tries but don't hang around. Once I like the position I'll say the magic word, then scram."

"Aye aye, Chief."

Jacob made a dozen jumps before Zebbie said, "Bingo Gay Bounce" and a light appeared on the display. He started the program and told Gay to increase scale; the light spread out into a circle with a lighted dot in the center. "Captain, watch this. I've told Gay that every stop is a Bingo. You may be surprised."

"Thanks, Zebbie." The circle was becoming freckled inside its perimeter. With no feeling of motion, the scene flicked every second. It was mid-morning; each scene was sharp. That big building would be dead ahead-blink your eye and you're staring at fields-then again at the city but with that building off to starboard. It put me in mind of holovideo tape spliced to create confusion.

Zebbie had on his phones and was ignoring everything else. Jacob was watching the flickering scenery, as was I, as was Deety-when Jacob suddenly turned his head, said, "Deety-please-the-Bo-" and clapped his hand over his mouth.

I said, "Two Bonines, Deety-quickly!"

Deety was reaching for them. "You, too, Auntie Cap'n?"

"It's this flickering." I gave one to Jacob, made certain that he saw me take one. I had not been motion-sick since I had been made Captain. But any time my husband must take one, I will keep him company.

Today I should have taken one as soon as I spotted that British flag; Bonine

tranquilizes the nerves as well as the tummy....nd soon I must act as- ambassador? Something of the sort; I intended to go straight to the top. Dealing with underlings is frustrating. In college I would not have lasted almost four years had it been up to the dean of women. But I always managed to take it over her head to the president; the top boss can bend the rules.

(But my senior year the president was female and as tough a bitch as I am. She listened to my best Clarence-Darrow defense, congratulated me, told me I should have studied law, then said, "Go pack. I want you off campus by noon.")

Zebbie pushed the phone off his right ear. "Captain, I've got this loud enough to put on the horn. Want to talk to them?"