Robert Heinlein - The Number of the Beast

Pop handed them aft; I gave them to Bertie. He adjusted them and searched while Zebadiah made a wide sweep, spending altitude stingily. Bertie said, "There!"

"Where?" I said. "And what?"

"A large house, to the right of our course. Ah, now dead ahead!"

I saw it-a "Stately Home of England." Lawns you make with a flock of sheep and four centuries. "This it?" asked Zebadiah. "I'm steady on it by gunsight,"

"That's it, sir! Deety, I would like a picture."

"Do my best."

"Alert," said Gay. "Memo for General Smythe-Carstairs: 'I can go down to the end of the town and be back in time for tea."

"Aunt Hilda, Bertie, I left some leeway. Picture! Zebadiah, take it as close as you dare, then bounce, but warn me. I want a closeup."

"Now, Deety!" I hit it and Zebadiah bounced us.

Bertie let out a sigh. "My home. I never expected to see it again."

"I knew it was your home," Aunt Hilda said softly, "because you looked the way we feel when we see the crater where Snug Harbor used to be. But you will see it again, surely? How long is a tour of duty on Mars?"

"It's a matter of health." Bertie added, "Lady Her- Betty's health."

Pop turned his head. "Bertie, we can bounce and do it again. What's a few minutes late for tea compared with seeing your old homestead?"

"Bertie's not late yet, Pop. We can do even better. That lawn is smooth and the open part is about half the size of the pg. at Imperial House. Bertie, we can ground."

My husband added, "I could make a glide grounding. But Deety has worked out a better method."

"No," Bertie said brusquely. "Thanks, Deety. Thanks to all of you. Jake. Zeb. Captain Hilda. I'll treasure this day. But enough is enough." Tears were running down his cheeks, ignored.

Aunt Hilda took a Kleenex from her purse, dabbed away his tears. She put her left hand back of Bertie's neck, pulled his face down to hers, and kissed him. She didn't look to see if Pop was watching-he was-she just did it.

Pop said, "Deety, will you hand me the binox?"

"Sure, Pop. See something?"

"I'm going to see what I can of Merrie Old England, as I don't expect to see it again, either. Family, we are not going back to Snug Harbor again; it's not good for us. Meanwhile Zeb will drive and you two are to soothe our guest and make him feel better-"

"But remember to wipe off the lipstick."

"Pipe down, Zeb. You aren't observant; neither of our darlings is wearing any. Being late is not important; 'The party can't start till the Macgregor arrives.' But once Bertie's there, he's on parade-and the Governor must not appear with eyes swollen and tear marks on his collar. We must return him in as good shape as we got him."

Sometimes I love Pop more than most.

And my husband, too.

I used both hands but didn't need to; Bertie wasn't trying to get away. The second time he kissed Hilda, he supplied the hands. Therapy took three minutes and forty-one seconds, and I am certain that, by the end of two hundred twenty-one seconds, Bertie was no longer homesick, not grieving about mighthave-beens; his morale was tiptop. The last time he kissed me, he informed me without words that I should not be alone with him unless my intentions were serious.

I made mental note. And a second to ask Hilda if she had received the same warning. Then I struck out the second note. I was certain and equally certain that she would fib if it suited her.

But I look forward to the day the Hillbilly asks me to jigger for her. That will be my final promotion-no longer Jane's little girl in Hilda's eyes but Jane's equal, trusted as utterly as she trusted Jane. And I will be rid of the last trace of the shameful jealousy I have for my beloved Mama Jane.

I checked myself in my purse mirror while I waited for them to break- checked both of them and decided that they had no milk on their chins. Bertie said, "Deety, could I possibly have one of those pictures as a remembrance of this perfect day?"

"Certainly. Gay Parade Ground. All three are yours;~we took them for you." We were exactly on time.

Three hours later I was sitting teat deep in a wonderful tub of hot soapy water, a tub big enough to drown in but I wasn't going to drown because the Hillbilly was sitting shoulder deep, facing me. We were reliving our day as well as getting beautiful for dinner. Well... sanitary.

Hilda said, "Deety, I tell you three times. Betty is suffering from an ailment made more endurable by Martian conditions."

"Meaning that in point thirty-eight gee she doesn't hit hard when she falls down. What was in that teapot no one else touched? Chanel Number Five?"

"Medicine. Prescribed for her nerves."

"Got it. Official. She's friendly as a puppy, she's generous, she's our hostess- I ought to know better. It's a shame that she has this ailment but she's fortunate in having a husband who loves her so dearly that he left home forever so that she can live in lower gravity. Bertie is quite a man."

"There is nothing for him at home. His older brother has sons; title and estate can't go to Bertie. He can't go much higher in the army, and a governor general is senior to anybody; he embodies the Sovereign."

"I thought that was limited to viceroys."

"Squeaky put me straight on it. Bertie is viceroy in dealing with Russians. But- Did you notice the uniforms on the maids?"

"I noticed the cream tarts more. White aprons, white caps, simple print dresses, dark blue or black with Indian arrowheads."

"The Broad Arrow, Deety."

"Huh? No sabbe, pliz."

"In this universe Australia belongs to the Dutch. Brace yourself, dear. This is a prison colony."

Every so often the world wobbles and I have to wait for it to steady down. Somewhat later I said, "A colony could be better than a prison. I can't see Bertie as a tyrant. Bertie is quite a man. When-"

Hilda reached out, grabbed a chain, flushed the W.C., then leaned toward me. That fixture was a noisy type that went on gurgling and gasping for a long time. "Remember what Zebbie told us when he crowded us into the other bath and turned on everything? One must assume that guest quarters in any government building anywhere are wired. Careful what you say, dear."

"He also said that he had no reason to assume that it was the case here."

"But Zebbie was the one who insisted on a conference in Gay... with Jacob being mulish and you yourself seeing no reason not to confer up here." Aunt Hilda again pulled the chain. "Yes, Bertie is quite a man. Don't leave me alone with him."

"Or should I jigger instead?"

"Naughty Deety. My sweet, a bride should refrain at least twelve months out of respect for her husband and to prove that she can."

"After that it's okay?"

"Of course not! It's immoral, disgraceful, and scandalous." Suddenly she giggled, put arms around my neck, and whispered: "But if I ever need a jigger, Deety is the only person I would trust."

That conference, immediately after tea, had caused a crisis, brought on by our husbands in concert-but out of tune. The tea had been fun-cream tarts and new men appeal to my basest instincts. A tea qua tea should be over in an hour. We had been there over an hour, which I ignored because I was having fun. Aunt Hilda broke the ring around me, said softly, "We're leaving." So we smiled and said good-bye, found our host, and thanked him.

"Our pleasure," Bertie said. "Lady Herbert became indisposed and wishes to be forgiven but will see you at dinner. Hird-Jones tells me that black tie is no problem. Right?"

He added to let Squeaky know when we wanted help in moving; Hilda assured him that Squeaky had it in hand and the suite was beautiful!

As we left I asked, "Where is Zebadiah?"

"Waiting at the outer steps. He asked me for a conference. I don't know why, but Zebbie would not unnecessarily interrupt a social event to ask for a closed conference."