Robert Heinlein - The Cat Who Walked Through Walls

Hazel shook her head ruefully. "It's a wicked world. You would think that a youngster I had trained would be instantly suspicious when dealt three aces and the odd king in a hand of red dog... but Cas was greedy. He not only tapped the pot when he could not cover it, he pledged his indentures to fill the gap.

"Then, not a day later, Pol fell for an even more transparent piece of larceny; he was sure he knew what card was next to be dealt because he recognized a small coffee stain. Turned out that the ten as well as the eight had that same small stain. Pol held the nine but he was not in a strong moral position. Ah, well, it is probably better for the lads to have to do all the scut work in the ship plus shampoos and pedicures for their wives than it would be for the boys to sell Laz and Lor in the slave marts of Iskander, as I misdoubt they would have done had their own thieving efforts succeeded."

The Dora is even bigger inside than out; she has as many staterooms as may be needed. It was once a luxurious but fairly conventional hyperphotonic spaceship. But it (the ship, not

Dora the computer) was refitted with a Burroughs irrelevant drive (the magic means by which Gay Deceiver flits around the stars in nothing flat). A corollary of the Burroughs equations that teleport Gay can be applied to shape space warps. So Dora's passenger and cargo spaces were revamped; this lets Dora keep endless spare compartments collapsed in on themselves until she needs them.

(This is not the same deal under which Gay has tucked away in her portside skin two nineteenth-century bathrooms. Or is it? Well, I don't think it is. Must inquire. Or should I let sleeping logs butter their own bed? Better, maybe.)

A gang port relaxed in the side of the yacht; a ramp slid down, and I followed Lazarus up to the ship with my darling on my arm. As he stepped over the side, music sounded: "It Ain't Necessarily So" from George Gershwin's immortal Porgy and Bess. A long-dead "Sportin' Life" sang about the impossibility of a man as old as Methuselah ever persuading a woman to bed with him.

"Dora!"

A young girl's sweet voice answered, "I'm taking a bath. Call me later."

"Dora, shut off that silly song!"

"I must consult the captain of the day, sir."

"Consult and be damned! But stop that noise."

Another voice replaced the ship's voice: "Captain Lor speaking, Buddy Boy. Do you have a problem?"

"Yes. Shut off that noise!"

"Buddy, if you mean the classical music now playing as a salute to your arrival, I must say that your taste is as barbaric as ever. In any case I am constrained from switching it off because this new protocol was established by Commodore Hilda. I cannot change it without her permission."

"I'm henpecked." Lazarus fumed. "Can't enter my own ship without being insulted. I swear to Allah that, once I've cleaned up Overlord, I'm going to buy a Burroughs Bachelor Buggy, equip it with a Minsky Cerebrator, and go for a long vacation with no women aboard."

"Lazarus, why do you say such dreadful things?" The voice came from behind us; I had no trouble identifying it as Hilda's warm contralto.

Lazarus looked around. "Oh, there you are! Hilda, will you please put a stop to this dadblasted racket?" "Lazarus, you can do it yourself-" "I've tried. They delight in frustrating me. All three of them.

You, too."

"-simply by walking three paces beyond the door. If there is another musical salute that you would prefer, please name it. Dora and I are trying to find just the right tune for each of our family, plus a song of welcome for any guest."

"Ridiculous." "Dora enjoys doing it. So do I. It's a gracious practice, like eating with forks rather than fingers."

"'Fingers were made before forks.'"

"And flatworms before humans. That does not make flat-worms better than people. Move along, Woodie, and give Gershwin a rest."

He grunted and did so; the Gershwin stopped. Hazel and I followed him-and again music sounded, a pipe-and-drum band blaring out a march I had not heard since that black day when I lost my foot... and my command... and my honor

"The Campbells Are Coming-"

It startled me almost out of my wits, and gave me the mighty shot of adrenaline that ancient boast before battle always does. I was so overcome that I had to force myself to keep my features straight, while praying that no one would speak to me until I had my voice back under control.

Hazel squeezed my arm but the darling kept quiet; I think she can read my emotions-she always knows my needs. I stomped straight ahead, spine straight, barely steadying myself with my cane, and not seeing the interior of the ship. Then the pipes shut down and I could breathe again.

Behind us was Hilda. I think she had hung back to keep the musical salutes separated. Hers was a light and airy tune 1 could not place; it seemed to be played on silver bells, or possibly a celesta. Hazel told me the name of it: "Jezebel"- but I could not place it.

Lazarus's quarters were so lavish that I wondered how fancy the flag cabin of "Commodore" Hilda might be. Hazel settled down in his lounge as if she belonged there. But I did not stay; a bulkhead blinked, and Lazarus ushered me on through. Beyond lay a boardroom suitable for a systemwide corporation: a giant conference table, each place at it furnished with padded armchair, scratch pad, stylus, froster of water, terminal with printer, screen, keyboard, microphone, and hushfield-and I must add that I saw little of this bountiful junk in use; Dora made it unnecessary, being perfect secretary to all of us while also offering and serving refreshments.

(I could never get over the feeling that there was a live girl named Dora somewhere out of sight. But no mortal girl could have kept all the eggs in the air that Dora did.)

"Sit down anywhere," Lazarus said. "There is no rank here. And don't hesitate to ask questions and offer opinions. If you/ make a fool of yourself, no one will mind and you won't be the first to do so in this room. Have you met Lib?"

"Not formally." It was the other strawberry blonde, the not-Deety one.

"Then do. Dr. Elizabeth Andrew Jackson Libby Long... Colonel Richard Colin Ames Campbell."

"I am honored. Dr. Long."

She kissed me. I had anticipated that, having learned in less than two days here that the only way to avoid friendly kisses was by backing away... but that it was better to relax and enjoy it. And I did. Dr. Elizabeth Long is a pleasant sight and she was not wearing much and she smelled and tasted good ... and she stood close to me three seconds longer than necessary, patted my cheek, and said, "Hazel has good taste. I'm glad she brought you into the family."

I blushed like a yeoman. Everyone ignored it. I think. Lazarus went on, "Lib is my wife and also my partner starting back in the twenty-first century Gregorian. We've had some wild times together. She was a man back then and a retired commander, Terran Military Forces. But then and now, male or female, the greatest mathematician who ever lived."

Elizabeth turned and caressed his arm. "Nonsense, Lazarus. Jake is a greater mathematician than I and a more creative geometer than I could ever hope to be; he can visualize more dimensions and not get lost. I-"

Hilda's Jacob Burroughs had followed us in. "Nonsense, Lib. False modesty makes me sick."

"Then be sick, darling, but not on the rug. Jacob, neither your opinion, nor mine-nor that of Lazarus-is relevant; we arc what we are, each of us-and I understand there is work to be done. Lazarus, what happened?"

"Wait for Deety and the boys, so we don't have to discuss it twice. Where's Jane Libby?"

"Here, Uncle Woodie." Just entering was a naked girl who resembled- Look, I'm going to stop talking about family resemblances, hair red or otherwise, and the presence or absence of clothing. On Tertius, through climate and custom, clothing was optional, usually worn in public, sometimes worn at home. In the Lazarus Long household the males were more likely to wear something than the females but there was no rule that I could ever figure out.