Robert Heinlein - The Number of the Beast

"Now to major matters- There are no 'Black Hat' vermin in Oz. Should one be so foolish as to come here, I would know it from my Book, and it would be ejected into the Deadly Desert. What would happen to it there, the less said, the better-but evil is not tolerated in Oz.

"As to the problem of vermin in your home world, it does not lie in Ozma's jurisdiction. My powers are limited there. While my Great Book tells me what happens there, it does not distinguish between vermin disguised as human beings and human beings who by their nature are evil. I could cast a spell over you which would keep you away from all 'Black Hats.' Do you wish that?"

Pop glanced at Zebadiah; my husband said, "Just a moment, Glinda the Good. Just what does that mean?"

"Spells are always literal, Captain; that's why they can cause so much trouble. I rarely use them. This one means what I said: You would be kept away from any vermin of the sort you call 'Black Hats."

"In that case we couldn't recognize one, could we? Or get close enough to destroy it."

"I think one would have to devise ways to do each at a distance. Spells do not reason, Captain. Like computers, they operate literally."

"Could they recognize us? Booby-trap us? Bomb us?"

"I do not know, Captain. My Book records only what they have done, not what they may do. Even then, as I have said, the Records do not unmask a disguised 'Black Hat.' Therefore, I know little about them. Do you wish the spell? You need not decide at once. If you remain in Oz, you won't need it."

I blurted out, "We ought to stay here!"

Glinda smiled at me, not a happy smile. "Dear Deety- You have decided not to have your baby?"

"Huh? I mean, 'Excuse me, Glinda?"

"You have been in Fairyland more than the others. You know that your little girl will not be born here....ust as no one ever dies here."

Aunt Hilda spoke up so quickly I couldn't get a word in. "Glinda, thank you very much but I will not be staying."

I gulped. "I won't be staying, either, Aunt Glinda."

"So I suspected. Do you want my advice, dear?"

"Yes. Certainly!"

"Having decided to be a woman and not a little girl like Dorothy or Trot, leave here quickly....est you be tempted to stay in Fairyland forever."

Pop glanced at Zebadiah, then said, "Madame Glinda, we'll be leaving in the morning. We are grateful for your lavish hospitality....ut I think that is best."

"I think so, too, Doctor. But remember: Ozma's invitation stands. When you are weary of the world, come here for a holiday and bring the children. Children are happy here and never get hurt. Oz was designed for children."

"We will, we certainly will!"

"Is there anything more to discuss? If not. .

"Just a second!" put in Aunt Hilda. "You told Deety-will you tell me?"

Glinda smiled. "My Book states that you are growing a boy."

"-'solipsism' is a buzz word."

Zeb:

I didn't sleep with Deety that night. I didn't plan it that way. A footman showed me to a room; Deety and Hilda were standing at the top of the stairs (more magical stairs-okay as long as you don't look down) and talking excitedly, with Jake nearby.

When I saw that the room had only a single bed, the footman had vanished. I stepped outside; Deety and Hilda and Jake were gone, the upper hall was dark. So I said a word one mustn't use in Oz and went back into my room. Even a single bed looked inviting; I went to sleep at once.

Glinda had breakfast with us, in the banquet hail, considerably shrunken. The food in Imperial House is wonderful, but you can't beat ham and basted eggs and toast and jelly and fresh orange juice. I drank three cups of coffee and felt ready to rassle alligators.

Glinda kissed Deety and Hilda good-bye at the top of those Escher steps, and Jake and I bent over her hands. She wished us good luck....hich must mean more from her.

Gay Deceiver looked good in morning sunlight. Tik-Tok was standing at her nose. "Good mor-ning," he said. "I have been con-ver-sing with Miss Gay De-cei-ver all night. She is a ve-ry Smart Girl."

"Howdy, Zeb."

"Howdy, Gay. What have I told you about picking up strange men?"

"You've told me nothing, Zeb. And Tik-Tok is not a strange man. He is a gentleman, which is more than I can say for some people."

"Tru-ly, Cap-tam, I meant no im-pro-pri-e-ty."

"Just kidding, folks. Thanks for keeping Gay company, Tik-Tok."

"It was a plea-sure and a pri-vi-lege. I ar-ranged with the night watch-man to wind me up each hour in or-der that our con-ver-sa-tion be not a-brupt-ly ter-mi-nat-ed."

"Smart of you. Thanks again and we'll see you again. We'll be back for a visit, first chance. Gay, open up."

"You didn't say 'Please," my autopilot answered, but she opened her doors.

"I am de-ligh-ted to hear that you are re-tur-ning. Miss Gay De-cei-ver and I have much in corn-mon."

Sharpie said good-bye to Tik-Tok, went inside. Deety not only said goodbye but kissed his copper cheek-Deety would kiss a pig if the pig would hold still for it (if he didn't, I would turn him into sausage; kissing Deety is not to be scorned).

Hilda reappeared, still in evening gown. "Deety, come here. Hurry!"

I shook hands with Tik-Tok (odd!) and suggested that he back off a little. Then I went inside. No sign of our wives- I called to them, "Shake it up in there. I want a pilot suit."

Deety called out, "Zebadiah, wiggle your way through the bulkhead."

"I can't change clothes back there."

"Please, dear. I need you."

When Deety says she needs me, I go. So I wiggled through, and the space didn't seem as cramped as it had been when I was working on it at Termite Terrace. "Where are you?"

"In here. Port side," came Deety's muffled voice. I turned around, banging my head, and found a door where a door shouldn't be. I had to stoop but once through it I could stand up. A room slightly bigger than a telephone booth- a door aft, a door forward, Sunbonnet Sue to the left, Buster Brown to the right. Deety opened the door on the left. "Come look!"

A luxurious dressing room and bath- "It's the same one as in the 'Welcome' cottage," said Deety, "except that the window is frosted and doesn't open. But the air is fresh."

I said "Hmmm-" Then I added, "Well, well!" I checked out Buster Brown. Yes, the same bathroom Jake and I had used yesterday.

Jake stuck his head in. I said, "Perfesser, give me the benefit of your wisdom."

"Zeb, I'm fresh out."

"Jake-your opinion, please. Is this craft ready for space?"

"Zeb, I don't know."

"Let's check the outside."

We went over the shell with eyes and fingers, port and starboard. That car was unblemished-outside. But from inside I heard a toilet flushing.

I went inside, on back, still on back, and knocked on Sunbonnet Sue. Sharpie let me in. "Just leaving, Zebbie," She had elected to wear one of her new jump suits and looked like a Cracker Jack prize. "Deet' is about ready."

"Wait a half, Sharpie. Jake and I have decided to trust Glinda."

"Was there any doubt?"

I stepped inside; Deety twisted around at the dressing table, smiled through a mouthful of bobby pins. "Your father and I have approved this craft for space-tentatively-Captain Deety."

"I approved it at breakfast-and not tentatively. What do you have there, dear one?" She accepted a list from me, read it over:

Name Additional and/or Relief Duty

D. T. B. Carter Commanding

Hilda S. Burroughs 2nd in Command & Science Officer & Chef

Navigator

Z. J. Carter Chief Pilot Relief Navigator

J. J. Burroughs Copilot Sous-Chef

"It's intended to make your life easier, Cap'n Deety. Jake didn't get the going-over he should have had. But with Jake in the right-hand seat and me over him, I can keep him in hand-and he'll be so busy with his verniers that he won't have time to talk back. 'Sous-Chef' is a fancy way of saying that he'll be under his wife's thumb when we're grounded."