Robert Heinlein - Time Enough For Love

Lazarus grinned. "Hell, yes. I ought to stick in a condition that you name the planet 'Lazarus.' But I would have no way to enforce it. Okay, we understand each other. And I think- Do you respect good machinery?"

"Eh? Yes. As much as I despise machinery that doesn't do what it is putatively designed to do."

"We still understand each other. I think I'll leave the 'Dora'-that's my yacht-to you personally rather than to the Families' chairman...if you lead a migration."

"Uh...you tempt me to thank you."

"Don't. Just be good to her. She's a sweet craft, she's never known anything but kindness. She'll make a fine flagship for you. With simple reoutfitting-specs for it in her computer-she'll house a staff of twenty or thirty. And you can ground and reconnoiter in her, then lift off again-which your transports won't be able to do, most likely."

"Lazarus...I don't want to inherit either money or a yacht from you. Let them finish your rejuvenation-and come

with us, man! I'll step aside and you can boss. Or you can have no duties at all. But come!"

Lazarus smiled bleakly and shook his head. "I've been on six such colonizing ventures to virgin planets, not counting Secundus. All to planets I discovered. Gave it up centuries back. Anything gets boring in time. Do you think Solomon serviced all his thousand wives? If so, what sort of job did he do on the last one?-poor girl! Find me something new to do and I might never touch that suicide switch and still give you all I've got for your colony. It 'ud be a fair swap...as this halfway rejuvenation is most unsatisfactory; I don't feel well, yet I can't die. So I'm stuck between the suicide switch and giving in for the full treatment...the donkey that starved to death between two piles of hay. But it would have to be new, Ira, not something I've done over and over again. Like that old whore, I've climbed the same stairs too many times; my feet hurt."

"I'll think about the problem, Lazarus. I'll give it hard and systematic research."

"Seven to two you can't find anything I haven't done."

"I'll make a real try. You'll lay off the suicide switch while I research it?"

"No promises. Not once I get this will redrafted. Can you trust your chief legal eagle? May need some help...because this will"-he tapped the envelope- "leaving everything to the Families would stand up on Secundus no matter how many flaws are in it. But if I leave it to a private party-you, I mean-some of my descendants-quite a passel-will scream 'undue influence' and try to break it. Ira, they'll keep it tied up in court until it's dribbled away in legal fees. Let's avoid that, eh?"

"We can. I've made changes in the rules. On this planet a man can put his will through probate before his death, and if there are flaws, the court is required to help him rephrase it to accomplish his purposes. If he does it that way, no contest can be entertained by any court; it goes automatically into effect on his death. Of course if he changes his will, the new will must go through the same process-which makes changing his mind expensive. But by using preprobate, it does not take a lawyer for even the most complex will. And the lawyers can't touch it afterwards."

Lazarus' eyes widened with pleasure. "Didn't you annoy a few lawyers?"

"I've annoyed so many," Ira said dryly, "that every transport to Felicity has voluntary migrants in it-and so many lawyers have annoyed me, that some are involuntary ones." The Chairman Pro Tens looked sourly amused. "Once I said to my Chief Justice, 'Warren, I've bad to reverse too many of your decisions. You've been splitting hairs, misinterpreting the rules, and ignoring equity ever since you came into office. Go home; you're under house arrest until the 'Last Chance' lifts. You can have an escort during daylight hours to let you wind up your private affairs."

Lazarus chuckled. "Shoulda hanged him. You know what he did, don't you? Set up shop again on Felicity and went into politics. If they didn't lynch him."

"His problem and theirs, not mine. Lazarus, I never let a man be executed for being a fool-but if he's too obnoxious, I ship him out. There's no need to sweat over your new will if you want one. Just dictate it with any elaborations and explanations you see fit. Then we'll run it through a semantic analyzer to rephrase it into airtight legal language. Once it satisfies you, you can submit it to the High Court-which will come to you if you prefer-and the Court will validate it. Done that way it could then be overturned only by arbitrary act of a new Chairman Pro Tem. Which I consider most unlikely; the Trustees do not place such men in office."

Weatheral added, "But I hope you will take plenty of time, Lazarus. I want a fair chance to search for something new, something that will restore your interest in life."

"All right. But don't dally; I won't be put off with a Scheherazade gag. Have them send me a recorder-tomorrow morning, say."

Weatheral seemed about to speak, did not. Lazarus looked at him sharply. "This conversation is being recorded?"

"Yes, Lazarus. Sound and holography, everything that happens in this suite. But-your pardon, sir!-it goes only to my desk and does not become a permanent record until I have checked and okayed it. Nothing so far, that is."

Lazarus shrugged. "Forget it. Ira, I learned centuries back that there is no privacy in any society crowded enough to need ID's. A law guaranteeing privacy simply insures that bugs-microphones and lenses and so forth-are that much harder to spot. I hadn't thought about it up till now because I take it for granted that.. my privacy will be invaded any time I visit such places-then I ignore it unless I'm up to something the local law won't like. In which case I use evasive tactics."

"Lazarus, that record can be wiped. Its only purpose is to make me certain that the Senior is being properly taken care of-a responsibility I will not delegate."

"I said, 'Forget it.' But I'm surprised at your naiveté, a man in your position, in thinking that the record is piped only to your desk. I'll lay long odds, any amount you like, that it goes one, two, even three or more other places."

"If so, Lazarus, and I can find it out, Felicity will have some new colonists-after they've spent some unpleasant hours in the Colosseum."

"Ira, it doesn't matter. If any fool wants to watch an old, old man grunting on the pot or taking a bath, he's welcome. You yourself insured that it would happen by making a point of the record being secret, your eyes only. Security people always spy on their bosses; they can't help it, it's a syndrome that goes with the job. Have you had dinner? I'd be pleased to have you stay if you have time."

"I would be honored indeed to have dinner with the Senior."

"Oh, knock it off, Bud; there's no virtue in being old, it just takes a long time. I'd like you to stay because I'm enjoying human companionship. Those two over there are no company; I'm not even sure they're human. Robots, maybe. Why do they wear those diving suits and shiny helmets. I like to see a man's face."

"Lazarus, those are total isolation garments. For your protection, not theirs. Against infection."

"What? Ira, when a bug bites me, the bug dies. Even so, since they have to wear that, how is it that you come in wearing street clothes?'

"Not quite, Lazarus. For my purpose I needed a social talk, fake to face. So the last two hours before I came in I spent undergoing a most careful physical examination, followed by scalp-to-toe sterilization of skin, hair, ears, nails, teeth, nose, throat-even a gas inhalation which I can't name but did not like-while my clothes were sterilized even more thoroughly. Even that envelope I fetched to you. This suite is sterile and kept so."

"Ira, such precautions are silly. Unless my immunity has been intentionally lowered?"