Robert Heinlein - The Number of the Beast

He shook his head. "I cannot permit you to leave as yet."

"Gay Bounce. Zebbie, will you try to reach that nice Mr. Bean?"

Zeb had him shortly. 'Leftenant Bean heah."

"Captain Burroughs, Leftenant. Our radio chopped off while you were talk-

ing. No harm done; the important part got through. We grounded where you told us to, due south of Imperial House."

"So that's what happened? I must admit to feeling relieved."

"Is your post of duty in Imperial House?"

"Yes, Ma'am. On it, rather. We have a small housing on the roof"

"Good. I have a message for the Governor General. Will you record?"

"Oh, certainly."

"This is Hilda Burroughs speaking, Master of Spacecraft Gay Deceiver out of Snug Harbor. I am sorry that I had to leave without saying good-bye. But your last statement forced me to take measures to protect my craft and crew." My darling Hilda cut the mike. "Zebbie, when you have air, glide away from the city." She continued, "In a small way my responsibilities parallel yours; I cannot bargain concerning the safety of my crew and my craft. I hope that you will reconsider, as I have no stomach for dealing with the Russians-even though they have more to offer us in exchange. I still ask for safe-conduct but now must ask for a still third item in such a document: that all four of us be allowed to leave at will. You have my name. My second-in-command is Doctor D. T. Burroughs Carter, my chief pilot is Doctor Z. J. Carter, my copilot is Doctor Jacob Burroughs. You will have noticed surnames. Doctor Jacob is my husband; the other two are our daughter and her husband. I am Doctor Hilda Corners but I am much prouder of being Mrs. Jacob Burroughs-although at present I must use 'Captain Hilda Burroughs' since I am commanding. Sir, while dictating this I have made a decision. I will not make a second attempt to negotiate with Russians. We will wait thirty minutes in the warm hope of hearing from you....hen return to Earth, report to our own government, send a detailed complaint to the Tsar of All the Russias, and make a formal report of our attempt here to His Imperial Majesty. Signed Respectfully yours, H. C. Burroughs, Commanding. Leftenant, what are the full names and titles of the Governor General?"

"Ah, His Excellency Lieutenant General the Right Honourable Herbert Evelyn James Smythe-Carstairs, KG., V.C., C.B.E., Governor General of the Imperial Realms Beyond the Sky."

"Preface it formally, please, and I will wait until oh-nine-hundred hours Greenwich time or thirty-six minutes from now. Mark!"

"I will add the heading, Captain, and deliver it by hand."

After Hilda signed off she said, "I'm going to try to sleep thirty of those thirty-six minutes. Can anyone think of a program that will let all of us nap? This contact is more tiring than I had expected. Jacob, Deety, Zeb-don't all speak at once."

"I can, my dear," I answered.

"Yes, Jacob?"

"Gay Termite."

To my mild surprise it was night at our creek bank. To my pleasure my first attempt to maneuver by voice was smoothly successful. My daughter's ingenuity in constructing voiced programs had left me little to do. While I did not resent it (I'm proud of Deety), nevertheless while sitting as copilot, I

sometimes wondered whether anyone remembered that it was my brainchild that moved this chariot. Ah, vanity!

To my greater pleasure Hilda clapped her hands and looked delighted. "Jacob! How clever of you! How stupid of me! All right, everyone off duty for a half hour 'cept the rule about always two and always a rifle. Gay, alert us in thirty minutes. And please unlock the bulkhead door."

"Aunt Hillbilly, are you going to sleep back there?"

"I had thought of stretching out and inviting Jacob to join me. But the space belongs to you and Zebbie; I was thoughtless."

"We aren't going to sleep. But we had better drag those rifles out of that sack or you won't sleep. I want to empty the oubliette and stow that pesky plastic potty under the cushion of my seat. Durned if I'll use it when I have the whole outdoors at hand."

"Most certainly-but stay inside Gay's lights-and do please remind me before we leave. Deety, I've so much on my mind that I forget housekeeping details."

"Hillbilly, you're doing swell. I'll handle housekeeping; you worry about the big picture."

Hilda cuddled up to me in the after compartment and my nerves began to relax. Would the Governor General relent? Where would we go next? We had a myriad universes to choose from, a myriad myriad planets-but only one was home and we didn't dare go there. What about juice for Zeb's car and a thousand other things? Perhaps we should risk Earth-without-a-J. What about the time bomb, ticking away in my darling's belly?

Hilda sniffed into my shoulder. I patted her head. "Relax, dearest."

"I can't. Jacob, I don't like this job. I snap at you, you argue with me, we both get upset. It's not good for us-we never behaved this way at Snug Harbor."

"Then give it up."

"I'm going to. After I finish the job I started. Jacob, when we lift from this planet, you will be captain."

"Oh, no! Zeb." (Hilda my only love, you should turn it over to him now.)

"Zebbie won't take it. It's you or Deety, Jacob. If Deety is our next captain, you will back-seat drive even more than you have with me. No, Jacob, you must be captain before Deety is, so that you will understand what she is up against."

I felt that I had been scolded enough. I started to tell Hilda when that pejorative epithet played back in my mind: "-back-seat drive-"

I trust that I am honest with myself. I know that I am not very sociable and I expect to go on being so; a man capable of creative work has no time to spare for fools who would like to visit. But a "back-seat driver"?

Some facts: Jane learned to drive before I did-her father's duo. Our first car, a roadable, coincided with her pregnancy; I got instruction so that I could drive for Jane. She resumed driving - after Deety was born but when both of us were in the car, I always drove. She drove with me as passenger once or twice before the custom became established-but she never complained that I had been back-seat driving.

But Jane never complained.

Deety laid it on the line. I don't know who taught Deety to drive but I recall that she was driving, on roads as well as in the air, when she was twelve or thirteen. She had no occasion to drive for me until Jane's illness. There was a time after we lost Jane that Deety often drove for me. After a while we alternated. Then came a day when she was driving and I pointed out that her H-above-G was, oh, some figure less than a thousand meters, with a town ahead.

She said, "Thanks, Pop"-and grounded at that town, an unplanned stop. She switched off, got out, walked around and said, "Shove over, Pop. From now on, I'll enjoy the scenery while you herd us through the sky."

I didn't shove over, so Deety got into the back seat. Deety gets her stubbornness from both parents. Jane's was covered with marshmallow that concealed chrome steel; mine is covered with a coat of sullen anger if frustrated. But Deety's stubbornness isn't concealed. She has a sweet disposition but Torquemada could not force Deety to do that which she decided against.

For four hours we ignored each other. Then I turned around (intending to start an argument, I suppose-I was in the mood for one)-and Deety was asleep, curled up in the back seat.

I wrote a note, stuck it to the wind screen, left the keys, got quietly out, made sure all doors were locked, hired another car and drove home-by air; I was too angry to risk roading.

Instead of going straight home I went to the Commons to eat, and found Deety already eating. So I took my tray and joined her. She looked up, smiled, and greeted me: "Hello, Pop! How nice we ran into each other!" She opened her purse. "Here are your keys."