Robert Heinlein - The Number of the Beast

"So I knew we would be here just to get Sharpie some clothes and to recharge my packs-since they do have D.C. power. Then I found we had stumbled onto the home of the vermin-and at that point my back didn't ache at the idea of cranking, and I didn't think that the Captain was that much in a hurry to buy clothes. So I asked the Captain to call us together in Smart Girl. I did not want to put it off even a few minutes because we were scheduled to move into our suite after tea. To leave at once, before we moved in, would save awkward explanations. Jake, did I have reason to ask for emergency conference?"

"If you had told me-"

"Stop! The Captain told you."

"But she didn't explain-"

"Jake, you're hopeless! Captains don't have to explain. Furthermore she could not because I did not tell anyone until now. The Captain had confidence in my judgment."

"You could have explained. When Hilda sent you back to get me. I would have come at once."

"That makes the ninth time you've been wrong in twenty minutes-" I blurted, "Tenth, Zebadiah. I counted."

Pop gave me his "Et-tu,-Brute" look.

"-tenth without being right once. I could not have explained to you."

"Merely because of a group of men?"

"Eleventh. I was not sent back to get you-twelfth. I was under orders to tell you that-quote!-'We lift in five minutes.' Tell you that and no more, then turn and leave at once, without discussion. I carried out my orders."

"You hoped that I would be left behind."

"Thirteen."

I butted in again. "Pop, quit making a fool of yourself! Zebadiah asked you an essential question-and you've dodged. Captain Auntie, could we have the doors closed? There might be one of them out there-and the guns are locked up.

"Certainly, Deety. Gay Deceiver, close your doors."

Pop said, "Deety, I was not aware that I had been dodging. I thought I was conducting a reasonable discussion."

"Pop, you always think so. But you are reasonable only in mathematics. Zebadiah asked you whether or not, under the circumstances, did he have reason to ask for a conference? You haven't answered it."

"If Hilda had not told him not to-"

"Pop! Answer that question or I will never speak to you again in my life!"

My husband said, "Deety, Deety! Don't make threats."

"My husband, I never make threats, either. Pop knows it."

Pop took a deep breath. "Zeb, under the circumstances you have described, you were justified in asking the Captain for an immediate private conference."

I let out my breath. "Thanks, Pop."

"I did it for myself, Deety. Hilda? Captain?"

"What is it, Jacob?"

"I should have gone with you at once when you first asked me to."

"Thank you, Jacob. But I did not 'ask' you; I ordered you. True, it was phrased as a request... but orders of a commanding officer are customarily phrased as requests-a polite protocol. You explained this custom to me yourself. Although I already knew it." Aunt Hilda turned to look at Zebadiah.

"Chief Pilot, the departure for Minus-J is postponed until late tomorrow. I will give you the time after I have consulted the Brigadier. I want to see one of those vermin, alive, photograph it stereo and cinema, and, if possible, dissect one. Since I intend to remain overnight, I hope to pick up clothes for MinusJ, too-but the reasons for delay are to learn more about vermin and to carry out my commitment to Brigadier Hird-Jones."

Aunt Hilda paused, continued: "All hands, special orders. Do not remove

anything from the car that you cannot afford to abandon. This car may lift on five minutes' warning even in the middle of the night. You should keep close to me unless you have a guarantee from me of longer time. Tonight I will sleep in the car. If we lift in the night, I will send word to Princess Suite. Zebbie, I will retain the captaincy until we ground on Minus-J. Schedule: Dinner tonight is eight-thirty pip emma local time, about three hours hence. Black tie for gentlemen. Deety suggests that we wear what we wore our wedding night; she has our outfits packed together. The Brigadier will send someone to Princess Suite shortly after eight local to escort us to a reception. I will settle tomorrow's schedule with him. Jacob, I will slip down to the car after the House is quiet. If someone sees me, I will be running down for a toothbrush. Questions?"

"Captain?" said Pop.

"Copilot."

"Hilda, must you sleep in the car?"

"Jacob, 'twere best done quickly!"

"I'm begging you."

"You want me to be your whore one last time? That's not too much to ask... since you were willing to marry me knowing my thoroughly tarnished past. Yes, Jacob."

"No, no, no! I want you to sleep in my arms-that's all I ask."

"Only that? We can discuss it after we go to bed. All hands, prepare for space. Report!"

I splashed the Hillbilly and giggled. "Cap'n Auntie chum, that flatters me more than anything else you could ever say. While I can't imagine needing a jigger-if I did-or if I needed any sort of help and it took one who loves me no matter what, you know to whom I would turn. The one who loves me even when I'm bad. Who's that?"

"Thank you, Deety. We love and trust each other."

"Now tell me- Did you ever have any intention of sleeping tonight in the car?"

She pulled the chain again. Under that racket she said into my ear, "Deety doll, I never had any intention of sleeping tonight."

"He's too fat."

Zeb:

Sharpie sat on the Governor's right with my wife on his left, which gave Jake and me the privilege of sharing Lady Herbert, a loud shout away. The space was filled with mess jackets, dinner coats, and wives in their best. We each had one footman to insure that we did not starve; this platoon was bossed by a butler as impressive as the Pope, who was aided by a squad of noncom butlers. Female servants rushed in and out to serving tables. His Supremacy the Butler took it from there but used his hands only in offering splashes of wine to the Governor to taste and approve.

All were in livery-decorated with the Broad Arrow. The British colony consisted of a) wogs, b) transportees, c) discharged transportees, d) officers and enlisted men, e) civil servants, and f) spouses and dependents. I know even less about the Russian colony. Military and serfs, I think.

The ladies were in Victorian high-style dowdiness, which made Deety and Sharpie birds of paradise among crows. Jump suit and sailor pants had shocked people at tea. But at dinner-Deety wore the velvet wrap she had the night we eloped; Sharpie wore her sunset-shade mink cape; Jake and I unveiled them on the grand staircase leading down to the reception hall. Naw, we didn't rehearse; we were mysterious strangers, guests of the Governor General and His Lady, so all eyes were upon us. Maids, hurrying up, met us there to take our ladies' wraps.

I had questioned the propriety of house guests coming downstairs in wraps. Sharpie had answered, "Utterly correct, Zebbie-because I set the style. I did so this afternoon; I shall until we leave." I shut up; Sharpie has infallible instinct for upstaging.

Have I mentioned how Sharpie and Deety were dressed at Sharpie's party? They practically weren't. I wish I had had that hail bugged to record the gasps when Jake and I uncovered our prizes.

These two had last been seen at tea, one in a jump suit, the other in an outfit that looked donated by the Salvation Army, with no makeup. We had been to our suite before tea only for a hasty wash.

But now-Sharpie did Deety's hair; Deety did Sharpie's; Sharpie styled both faces, including too much lipstick, which Deety doesn't often wear. I asked Sharpie if she knew the history and significance of lipstick. She answered, "Certainly do, Zebbie. Don't bother us." She went on making Deety beautiful. Deety is beautiful but doesn't know it because her features have that simple regularity favored by Praxiteles.