Robert Heinlein - The Puppet Masters

She had grown steadily whiter as I talked, until her face was almost green against her hair. She caught her breath and said, "You believe that, Sam?"

"What else?"

"Sam, that is not the way it was. I did not know you were going to be in there. I was terribly startled. But there was nothing to do but go through with it; I had promised."

"'Promised'," I repeated. "That covers everything, a schoolgirl promise."

"Hardly a schoolgirl promise."

"No matter. And it doesn't matter whether you are telling the truth or not about knowing that I would be in there-you aren't, of course, but it doesn't matter. The point is: you were there and I was there-and you could figure what would happen if you did what you did do."

"Oh." She waited a bit, then went on, "That's the way it looks to you and I can't dispute the facts."

"Hardly."

She stood very still for a long time. I let her. Finally she said, "Sam-once you said something to me about wanting to marry me."

"I remember something of the sort. That was another day."

"I didn't expect you to renew the offer. But there was something else, a sort of corollary. Sam, no matter what you think of me, I want to tell you that I am deeply grateful for what you did for me. Uh, Miss Barkis is willing, Sam-you understand me?"

This time I grinned at her. "A female to the very end! Honest so help me, the workings of the female mind continue to delight and astound me. You always think you can cancel out the score and start over with that one trump play." I continued to grin at her while she turned red. "It won't work. Not this time. I won't inconvenience you by taking up your no-doubt generous offer."

She continued to blush but she came back at me in a steady, level voice, "I let myself in for that. Nevertheless, it's true. That-or anything else I can ever do for you."

My elbow was going to sleep; I sank back and lay down. "Sure, you can do something for me."

Her face lit up. "What?"

"Go away and quit bothering me. I'm tired." I turned my face away. I did not hear her leave, but I heard Doris come back in. She was bristling like a fox terrier; they must have passed in the hall. She faced me, fists on her hips, looking cute and adorable and very indignant. "She got around you, didn't she?"

"I don't think so."

"Don't lie to me. You went soft on her. I know-men always do. The idiots! A woman like that, all she has to do is shake her fanny at a man and he rolls over and plays dead."

"Well, I didn't. I gave her what for."

"You're sure you did?"

"I did-and sent her packing."

Doris looked doubtful. "I hope you did. Maybe you did-she wasn't looking too pert as she came out." She dismissed the matter. "How do you feel?"

"Pretty good"-it was a lie, net.

"Want some massage?"

"No, just come here and sit on the bed and talk to me. Want a cigarette?"

"Well-as long as the doctor doesn't catch me." She perched up on the bed; I struck cigarettes for both of us and stuck hers in her mouth. She took a deep drag, swelling out her chest and pushing her arrogant breasts against her halter almost to the breaking point. I thought again what a sweet dish she was; she was just what I needed to take my mind off Mary.

We talked for a while. Doris gave her views on women-it appeared she disapproved of them on principle, although she was not in the least apologetic about being one herself-on the contrary! "Take women patients," she said. "One of the reasons I took this job was because we don't get a woman patient once in a coon's age. A man patient appreciates what is done for him. A woman just expects it and boilers for more."

"Would you be that sort of patient?" I asked, just to tease her.

"I hope not. I'm healthy, thank the Lord." She crushed out her cigarette and jumped off the bed, bouncing a little. "Got to get out of here. Scream if you want anything."

"Doris-"

"Yes?"

"You got any leave coming up?"

"I plan to take two weeks shortly. Why?"

"I was thinking. I'm going on leave-at least. I've got a shack in the Adirondacks. How about it? We could have a nice time and forget this madhouse."

She dimpled. "You know, that's mighty white of you, podnuh." She came over and kissed me full on the mouth, the first time she had done so. "And if I weren't an old married lady, with a pair of twins in the bargain, I might take you up."

"Oh."

"Sorry. But thanks for the compliment. You've made my day."

She started for the door. I called out, "Doris, wait a minute." When she stopped I added, "I didn't know. Look, why don't you take me up on it anyhow? The cabin, I mean-take your old man and the kids up there and give 'em a good time. I'll give you the combo and the transponder code."

"You mean that?"

"Of course I do."

"Well-I'll talk to you later. Thanks." She came back and kissed me again and it made me wish she had not been married, or, at least, not working at it. Then she left.

The doctor came in a bit later. While he was fiddling with the futile things doctors do, I said, "That nurse. Miss Marsden-is she married?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"I just wanted to know."

"You keep your hands off my nurses-or I'll fit you with mittens. Now stick out your tongue."

The Old Man put his head in late that afternoon. My immediate response was pleasure; the Old Man's personality is hard to shake off. Then I remembered and went cold.

"I want to talk to you," he started in.

"I don't want to talk to you. Get out."

He ignored my remarks and came in, dragging his bad leg. "Mind if I sit down?"

"You seem to be doing so."

He ignored that, too. He wrinkled his face and scowled. "You know, son, you are one of my best boys, but sometimes you are a little hasty."

"Don't let that worry you," I answered, "as soon as the doctor lets me out of here. I'm through." I had not really decided up until then, but it seemed as necessary as syrup with buckwheat cakes. I no longer trusted the Old Man; the rest was obvious.

He was not hearing anything that he did not choose to hear. "You're too hasty. You jump to conclusions. Now take this girl Mary-"

"Mary who?"

"You know who I mean; you know her as 'Mary Cavanaugh'."

"You take her."

"You jumped all over her without knowing the score. You've got her all upset. Matter of fact, you may have ruined a good agent for me."

"Hmmph! I'm in tears about it."

"Listen, you young snot, you didn't have any call to be rough on her. You don't know the facts."

I did not answer; explanations are a poor defense.

"Oh, I know that you think you do," he went on. "You think she let herself be used as bait to get you to take part in that job we did. Well, you've got it slightly wrong. She was being used as bait, but I was using her. I planned it that way."

"I know you did."

"Then why blame her?"

"Because, although you planned it, you couldn't have carried it out without her active cooperation. It's mighty big of you, you no-good, heartless bastard, to take all the blame-but you can't."

He did not hear my profanity, either. He went on, "You understand everything about it but the key point, which is-the girl didn't know."

"Hell's bells, she was there."

"So she was. Son, did you ever know me to lie to you?"

"No," I admitted, "but I don't think you would hesitate."

He looked pained but answered, "Maybe I deserve that. I'd lie to one of my own people if the country's safety depended on it. I haven't found it necessary up till now because I've been choosy about who works for me. But this time the country's welfare doesn't depend on it and I'm not lying and you'll just have to test it for yourself, any way you can figure out, and make up your mind whether or not I'm lying. That girl didn't know. She didn't know you were going to be in that room. She didn't know why you were in there. She didn't know that there was any question about who was going to sit in that chair. She didn't have the faintest suspicion that I didn't mean for her to go through with it, or that I had already decided that you were the only party who would suit me, even if I had to have you tied down and forced-which I would have done, if I hadn't had a double whammy up my sleeve to trick you into volunteering. Hell's bells yourself, son; she didn't even know you were off the sick list."