Robert Heinlein - Time Enough For Love

"What about the Protector of Servants?" I asked. "Wasn't he some trouble to you?"

"Wondered if you would notice that. I spaced the bastard! Alive. He went thataway, eyes popped out and peeing blood. What did you expect me to do? Kiss him?"

Once they reached the privacy of a transport Galahad said to Ishtar, "Were you serious in your proposal to the Senior? To have progeny by him?"

"How could I be joking?-in the presence of two witnesses, one of them the Chairman Pro Tem himself."

"I didn't see how you could be. But why, Ishtar?"

"Because I'm a sentimental atavist!"

"Do you have to snap at me?"

She put an arm around his shoulders, took his hand with her free hand. "I'm sorry, dear. It has been a long day and not much sleep last night, sweet as it was. I'm worried about several things-and the subject you brought up is not one I can be unemotional about."

"I should not have asked. An invasion of privacy-I don't know what's got into me. Shall we wipe the matter? Please?"

"Dear, dear! I do know what got into me...and that's part of why I am so unprofessionally emotional. Let me put it this way: If you were female, wouldn't you jump at a chance to make such a proposal? To him?"

"I'm not female."

"I know you're not, you're delightfully male. But try for a moment to be as logical as a female. Try!"

"Males are not necessarily illogical; that's a female myth."

"Sorry. I must take a tranquilizer the minute we are home-something I haven't needed in years. But do try to think about it as if you were female. Please? Twenty seconds."

"I don't need twenty seconds." He lifted her hand, kissed it. "If I were female, I would jump at the chance, too. The best proved genetic pattern one can offer a child? Of course."

"Not that at all!"

He blinked. "Perhaps I don't know what you mean by logic."

"Uh...does it matter? Since we arrived at the same answer?" The car swerved and stopped in a loading pocket; she stood up. "So let's wipe it. We're home, dear."

"You are. I'm not. I think-"

"Men don't think."

"I think you need a night's rest, Ishtar."

"You sealed this onto me; now you'll have to undress me."

"So? Then you'll insist on feeding me and you won't get that long night of sleep after all. Besides, you can peel it over your head, just the way I did it for you at decontam."

She sighed. "Galahad-if I picked the right name for you-do I have to offer you a cohabitation contract merely because I might invite you to stay overnight again? It's likely that neither of us will get any sleep tonight."

"That's what I was saying."

"Not quite. Because we may work all night. Even if you choose to spend three minutes to our mutual pleasure."

"'Three minutes'? I wasn't that hasty even the first time."

"Well- Five minutes?'

"Am I offered twenty minutes-plus an apology?'

"Men! Thirty minutes, darling, and no apology."

"Accepted." He stood up.

"Five of which you've wasted arguing about it. So come along-exasperating darling."

He followed her out into her foyer. "What's this about 'work all night'?"

"And tomorrow, too. I'll know when I check what's in my phone. If there's nothing, I'll have to call the Chairman Pro Tem, much as I hate to. I've got to look over this rooftop cabin or whatever it is, and see, what arrangements can be made to take care of him there. Then both of us will move him; I can't delegate that. Then-"

"Ishtar! Are you going to agree to that? Nonsterile habitat, no emergency equipment, and so forth?"

"Darling...you are impressed by my rank; Mr. Weatheral is not. And the Senior isn't even impressed by Mr. Weatheral's authority; the Senior is the Senior. I kept hoping that Mr. Chairman Pro Tem would find some way to wheedle him into postponing such a move. But he did not. So now I have two choices: Do it his way-or withdraw completely. As the Director did. Which I won't do. Which leaves me no choice. So tonight I'll inspect his new quarters and see what can be done between now and tomorrow midmorning. Even though it's hopeless to make such a place sterile, perhaps it can be made more nearly suitable before he sees it."

"And emergency equipment, don't forget that, Ishtar."

"As if I would, stupid darling. Now help me out of this damned thing-I mean 'this pretty dress you designed for me and which the Senior clearly liked.' Please?"

"So stand still and hold still and shut up."

"Don't tickle! Oh, that, there's the phone signal! Get it off me, dear-hurry!"

Love

Lazarus lounged in his hammock and scratched his chest.

"Hamadryad," he said, "that's not an easy question. At seventeen I was certain I was in love. But it was merely excess hormones and self-delusion. It was most of a thousand years later before I experienced the real thing-and didn't recognize the condition for years, as I had quit using that word."

Ira Weatheral's "pretty daughter" looked puzzled, while Lazarus thought again that Ira had been wrong: Hamadryad was not pretty; she was so startling beautiful that she would have fetched top premium prices at auction on Fatima, with hard-eyed Iskandrian factors outbidding each other in the belief that she was a sound speculation. If the Protector of the Faith had not preempted her for himself- Hamadryad did not seem to know that her appearance was exceptional. But Ishtar did. The first ten days that Ira's daughter had been part of Lazarus' "family" (so he thought of them-a good enough term as Ira, Hamadryad, Ishtar, and Galahad were all his descendants and now privileged to call him "Grandfather" as long as they did not overdo it)-those first days Ishtar had shown a childish tendency to try to place herself between Hamadryad and Lazarus, and also between Hamadryad and Galahad, even when this required being two places at once.

Lazarus had watched this barnyard dance with amusement and had wondered if Ishtar knew that she was doing it. Probably not, he decided. His rejuvenation supervisor was all duty and no sense of humor and would have been shocked had she known that she had reverted to adolescence.

But it did not last. It was impossible not to like Hamadryad because she remained quietly friendly no matter what. Lazarus wondered if it was a behavior pattern consciously developed to protect herself against her less-endowed sisters-or was it simply her nature? He had not tried to find out. But Ishtar now tended to sit by Hamadryad, or even to make room between herself and Galahad for Hamadryad, and let her help in serving meals and such-assistant "housewife" de facto.

"If I must wait a thousand years to understand that word," Hamadryad replied, "then I probably never will. Minerva says that it cannot be defined in Galacta and even when I speak Classic English, I find that I think in Galacta, which means that I do not really grasp English. Since the word 'love' occurs so frequently in ancient English literature, I thought my failure to understand that word might be the block that keeps me from thinking in English."

"Well, let's shift to Galacta and take a swing at it. In the first place, very little thinking was ever done in English; it is not a language suited to logical thought. Instead, it's an emotive lingo beautifully adapted to concealing fallacies. A rationalizing language, not a rational one. But most people who spoke English had no more idea of the meaning of the word 'love' than you have, even though they used it all the time."

Lazarus added, "Minerva! We're going to take another hack at the word 'love.' Want to join in? If so, shift to your personal mode."

"Thank you, Lazarus. Hello, Ira-Ishtar-Hamadryad-Galahad," the disembodied contralto voice answered. "I am and have been in personal mode, and usually am, now that you have given me permission to use my judgment. You're looking well, Lazarus-younger every day."