"Not much you can do, Deety hon-unless you want to relieve Zebbie."
Deety was staring at the corpse and did not look happy-her nipples were down flat. "Go take a bath!" I told her. "Scram."
"Do I stink that badly?"
"You stink swell, honey girl. But Sharpie pointed out that this may be our last chance at soap and hot water in quite a while. I've promised her that we won't leave for Canopus and points east until she has her bath. So get yours out of the way, then you can help me stow while she gets sanitary."
"All right." Deety backed off and her nipples showed faintly-not rigid but
she was feeling better. My darling keeps her feelings out of her face, mostly- but those pretty pink spigots are barometers of her morale.
"Just a sec, Deety," Hilda added. "This afternoon you said, 'He didn't react!' What did you mean?"
"What I said. Strip in front of a man and he reacts, one way or another. Even if he tries to ignore it, his eyes give him away. But he didn't. Of course he's not a man-but I didn't know that when I tried to distract him."
I said, "But he did notice you, Deety-and that gave me my chance."
"But only the way a dog, or a horse, or any animal, will notice any movement. He noticed but ignored it. No reaction."
"Zebbie, does that remind you of anything?"
"Should it?"
"The first day we were here you told us a story about a 'zaftig co-ed."
"I did?"
"She was flunking math."
"Oh! 'Brainy."
"Yes, Professor N. O'Heret Brain. See any parallel?"
"But 'No Brain' has been on campus for years. Furthermore he turns red in the face. Not a tattoo job."
"I said this one might be a rush job. Would anyone be in a better position to discredit a mathematical theory than the head of the department of mathematics at a very prominent university? Especially if he was familiar with that theory and knew that it was correct?"
"Hey, wait a minute!" put in Deety. "Are you talking about that professor who argued with Pop? The one with the phony invitation? I thought he was just a stooge? Pop says he's a fool."
"He behaves like a pompous old fool," agreed Hilda. "I can't stand him. I plan to do an autopsy on him."
"But he's not dead."
"That can be corrected!" Sharpie said sharply.
"They might fumigate this planet and take it."
Hilda:
By the time I was out of my bath, Jacob, Deety, and Zebbie had Gay Deceiver stowed and lists checked (can opener, cameras, et cetera)-even samples of fluids and tissues from the cadaver, as Zebbie's miracle car had a small refrigerator. Deety wasn't happy about my specimens being in the refrigerator but they were very well packed, layer on layer of plastic wrap, then sealed into a freezer box. Besides, that refrigerator contained mostly camera film, dyna
mite caps, and other noneatables. Food was mostly freeze-dried and sealed in nitrogen, except foods that won't spoil.
We were dog tired. Jacob moved that we sleep, then leave. "Zeb, unless you expect a new attack in the next eight hours, we should rest. I need to be clearheaded in handling verniers. This house is almost a fortress, will be pitch black, and does not radiate any part of the spectrum. They may conclude that we ran for it right after we got their boy-hermaphrodite, I mean; the fake 'ranger'-what do you think?"
"Jake, I wouldn't have been surprised had we been clobbered at any moment. Since they didn't- Well, I don't like to handle Gay when I'm not sharp. More mistakes are made in battle through fatigue than from any other cause. Let's sack 'in. Anybody need a sleeping pill?"
"All I need is a bed. Hilda my love, tonight I sleep on my own side."
I said, "Can't I even cuddle up your back?"
"Promise not to tickle?"
I made a face at my darling. "I promise."
"Zebadiah," Deety said. "I don't want to cuddle; I want to be held... so I'll know I'm safe. For the first time since my twelfth birthday I don't feel sexy."
"Princess, it's settled; we sleep. But I suggest that we be up before daylight. Let's not crowd our luck."
"Sensible," agreed Jacob.
I shrugged. "You men have to pilot; Deety and I are cargo. We can nap in the back seats-if we miss a few universes, what of it? If you've seen one universe, you've seen 'em all. Deety?"
"If it were up to me, I would lam out of here so fast my shoes would be left standing. But Zebadiah has to pilot and Pop has to set verniers... and both are tired and don't want to chance it. But, Zebadiah... don't fret if I rest with my eyes and ears open."
"Huh? Deety-why?"
"Somebody ought to be on watch. It might give us that split-second advantage-split seconds have saved us at least twice. Don't worry, darling; I often skip a night to work a long program under shared time. Doesn't hurt me; a nap next day and I'm ready to bite rattlesnakes. Tell him, Pop."
"That's correct, Zeb, but-"
Zebbie cut him off. "Maybe you gals can split watches and have breakfast ready. Right now I've got to hook up Gay Deceiver so that she can reach me in our bedroom. Deety, I can add a program so that she can listen around the cabin, too. Properly programmed, Gay's the best watch dog of any of us. Will that satisfy you duty-struck little broads?"
Deety said nothing so I kept quiet. Zebbie, frowning, turned back to his car, opened a door and prepared to hook Gay's voice and ears to the three house intercoms. "Want to shift the basement talky-talk to your bedroom, Jake?"
"Good idea," Jacob agreed.
"Wait a half while I ask Gay what she has. Hello, Gay."
"Howdy, Zeb. Wipe off your chin."
"Program. Running new retrievals. Report new items since last report."
"Null report, Boss."
"Thank you, Gay."
"You're welcome, Zeb."
"Program, Gay. Add running news retrieval. Area, Arizona Strip north of Grand Canyon plus Utah. Persons: all persons listed in current running news retrieval programs plus rangers, Federal rangers, forest rangers, park rangers, state rangers. End of added program."
"New program running, Boss."
"Program. Add running acoustic report, maximum gain."
"New program running, Zeb."
"You're a smart girl, Gay."
"Isn't it time you married me?"
"Good night, Gay."
"Good night, Zeb. Sleep with your hands outside the covers."
"Deety, you've corrupted Gay. I'll run a lead outdoors for a microphone
while Jake moves the basement intercom to the master bedroom. But maximum gain will put a coyote yapping ten miles away right into bed with you. Jake, I can tell Gay to subtract acoustic report from the news retrieval for your bedroom."
"Hilda my love, do you want the acoustic subtracted?"
I didn't but didn't say so; Gay interrupted:
"Running news retrieval, Boss."
"Report!"
"Reuters, Straits Times, Singapore. Tragic News of Marston Expedition. Indonesian News Service, Palembang. Two bodies identified as Dr. Cecil Yang and Dr. Z. Edward Carter were brought by jungle buggy to National Militia Headquarters, Telukbetung. The district commandant stated that they will be transferred by air to Palembang for further transport to Singapore when the commandant-in-chief releases them to the Minister of Tourism and Culture. Professor Marston and Mr. Smythe-Belisha are still unreported. Commandants of both districts concede that hopes of finding them alive have diminished. However, a spokesman for the Minister of Tourism and Culture assured a press conference that the Indonesian government would pursue the search more assiduously than ever."
Zebbie whistled tunelessly. Finally, he said, "Opinions, anyone?"
"He was a brilliant man, Son," my husband said soberly. "An irreplaceable loss. Tragic."
"Ed was a good Joe, Jake. But that's not what I mean. Our tactical situation. Now. Here."
My husband paused before answering, "Zeb, whatever happened in Sumatra apparently happened about a month ago. Emotionally I feel great turmoil. Logically I am forced to state that I cannot see that our situation has changed."
"Hilda? Deety?"
"News retrieval report," announced Gay.
"Report!"
"AP San Francisco via satellite from Saipan, Marianas. TWA hypersonicsemiballistic liner Winged Victory out of San Francisco International at twenty o'clock this evening Pacific Coast Time was seen by eye and radar to implode on reentry. AP Honolulu US Navy Official. USS Submersible Carrier Flying Fish operating near Wake Island has been ordered to proceed flank speed toward site of Winged Victory reentry. She will surface and launch search craft at optimum point. Navy PlO spokesman, when asked what was 'optimum,' replied 'No comment.' Associated Press's military editor noted that submerged speed of Flying Fish class, and type and characteristics of craft carried, are classified information. AP-UPI add San Francisco, Winged Victory disaster. TWA public relations released a statement quote if reports received concerning Winged Victory are correct it must be tentatively assumed that no survivors can be expected. But our engineering department denies that implosion could be cause. Collision with orbital debris decaying into atmosphere or even a strike by a meteor could repeat could endrep cause disaster by mischance so
unlikely that it can only be described as an Act of God endquote TWA spokesmen released passenger list by order of the Civil Aerospace Board. List follows:
California-"
The list was longish. I did not recognize any names until Gay reached: "Doctor Neil 0. Brain-"
I gasped. But no one said a word until Gay announced:
"End running news retrieval."
"Thank you, Gay."
"A pleasure, Zeb."
Zebbie said, "Professor?"
"You're in command, Captain!"
"Very well, sir! All of you-lifeboat rules! I expect fast action and no back talk. Estimated departure-five minutes! First everybody take a pee! Second, put on the clothes you'll travel in. Jake, switch off, lock up-whatever you do to secure your house for long absence. Deety-follow Jake, make sure he hasn't missed anything-then you, not Jake, switch out lights and close doors. Hilda, bundle what's left of that Dutch lunch and fetch it-fast, not fussy. Check the refrigerator for solid foods-no liquids-and cram what you can into Gay's refrigerator. Don't dither over choices. Questions, anyone? Move!"
I gave Jacob first crack at our bathroom because the poor dear tenses up; I used the time to slide sandwiches into a freezer sack and half a pie into another. Potato salad? Scrape it into a third and stick in one plastic picnic spoon; germs were now community property. I stuffed this and some pickles into the biggest freezer sack Deety stocked, and closed it.
Jake came out of our bedroom; I threw him a kiss en passant, ducked into our john, turned on water in the basin, sat down, and recited mantras-that often works when I'm jumpy-then used the bidet-patted it and told it goodbye without stopping. My travel clothes were Deety's baby tennis shoes with a green-and-gold denim miniskirt dress of hers that came to my knees but wasn't too dreadful with a scarf to belt it. Panties? I had none. Deety had put a pair of hers out for me-but her size would fall off me. Then I saw that the dear baby had gotten at the elastic and knotted it. Yup! pretty good fit-and, with no telling when our next baths would be, panties were practical even though a nuisance.
I spread my cape in front of the refrigerator, dumped my purse and our picnic lunch into it, started salvaging-half a boned ham, quite a bit of cheese, a loaf and a half of bread, two pounds of butter (freezer sacks, and the same for the ham-if Deety hadn't had a lavish supply of freezer sacks I could not have salvaged much-as it was, I didn't even get spots on my cape). I decided that jams and jellies and catsup were liquid within Zebbie's meaning-except some in squeeze tubes. Half a chocolate cake, and the cupboard was bare.
By using my cape as a Santa Claus pack, I carried food into the garage and put it down by Gay-and was delighted to find that I was first.
Zebbie strode in behind me, dressed in a coverall with thigh pockets, a pilot suit. He looked at the pile on my cape. "Where's the elephant, Sharpie?"
"Cap'n Zebbie, you didn't say how much, you just said what. What won't go she can have." I hooked a thumb at the chopped-up corpse.
"Sorry, Hilda; you are correct." Zebbie glanced at his wrist watch, the multiple-dial sort they call a "navigator's watch."
"Cap'n, this house has loads of gimmicks and gadgets and bells and whistles. You gave them an impossible schedule."
"On purpose, dear. Let's see how much food we can stow."
Gay's cold chest is set flush in the deck of the driver's compartment. Zebbie told Gay to open up, then with his shoulders sideways, reached down and unlocked it. "Hand me stuff."
I tapped his butt. "Out of there, you overgrown midget, and let Sharpie pack. I'll let you know when it's tight as a girdle."
Space that makes Zebbie twist and grunt is roomy for me. He passed things in, I fitted them for maximum stowage. The third item he handed me was the leavings of our buffet dinner. "That's our picnic lunch," I told him, putting it on his seat.
"Can't leave it loose in the cabin."
"Cap'n, we'll eat it before it can spoil. I will be strapped down; is it okay if I clutch it to my bosom?"
"Sharpie, have I ever won an argument with you?"
"Only by brute force, dear. Can the chatter and pass the chow."
With the help of God and a shoehorn it all went in. I was in a back seat with our lunch in my lap and my cape under me before our spouses showed up. "Cap'n Zebbie? Why did the news of Brainy's death cause your change of mind?"
"Do you disapprove, Sharpie?"
"On the contrary, Skipper. Do you want my guess?"
"Yes."
"Winged Victory was booby-trapped. And dear Doctor Brain, who isn't the fool I thought he was, was not aboard. Those poor people were killed so that he could disappear."
"Go to the head of the class, Sharpie. Too many coincidences... and they- the 'Blokes in the Black Hats'-know where we are."
"Meaning that Professor No Brain, instead of being dead in the Pacific, might show up any second."
"He and a gang of green-blooded aliens who don't like geometers."
"Zebbie, what do you figure their plans are?"
"Can't guess. They might fumigate this planet and take it. Or conquer us as cattle or as slaves. The only data we have is that they are alien, that they are powerful-and that they have no compunction about killing us. So I have no compunction about killing them. To my regret, I don't know how. So I'm running-running scared-and taking the three I'm certain are in danger with me."
"Will we ever be able to find them and kill them?"
Zebbie didn't answer because Deety and my Jacob arrived, breathless. Father and daughter were in jump suits. Deety looked chesty and cute; my darling looked trim-but worried. "We're late. Sorry!"
"You're not late," Zeb told them. "But into your seats on the bounce."
"As quick as I open the garage door and switch out the lights."
"Jake, Jake-Gay is now programmed to do those things herself. In you go, Princess, and strap down. Seat belts, Sharpie. Copilot, after you lock the starboard door, check its seal all the way around by touch before you strap down."
"Wilco, Cap'n." It tickled me to hear my darling boning military. He had told me privately that he was a reserve colonel of ordnance-but that Deety had promised not to tell this to our smart young captain and that he wanted the same promise from me-because the T.O. was as it should be; Zeb should command while Jacob handled space-time controls-to each his own. Jacob had asked me to please take orders from Zeb with no back talk....hich had miffed me a little. I was an unskilled crew member; I am not stupid, I knew this. In direst emergency I would try to get us home. But even Deety was better qualified than I.