"Captain Auntie, sleep is never my problem."

"Zebbie?"

"I was a zombie. Until you recharged me. Now I'm rarin' to go!"

She mussed his hair. "Zebbie, quit teasing."

"Captain, on an earlier occasion I told you the facts: My alert time exceeds twenty-four hours. Forty-eight if I must. If that kiss did not stimulate you as much as it did me, let's try it again and find out what went wrong."

Aunt Hilda turned away abruptly. "Jacob dear, how do you feel? With the time difference this may be equivalent to staying up all night, possibly under great tension,"

"Hilda my love, were we to return to our streamside, I would not sleep, knowing that this contact was coming. A night without sleep does not strain me."

"Pop's not exaggerating, Captain Auntie. I get my night-owl capacity from Pop."

"Very well. But I have a method of taking care of anyone who may have exaggerated. I can leave one person aboard as guard."

"Captain, this wagon does not need a guard."

"Chief Pilot, I was offering sleep-under pretext of guarding. Car locked and sleep where Ijust napped-outsiders would not know. Anyone? Speak up."

(I wouldn't have missed it for a Persian kitten! Did Hilda expect anyone to stay behind? I don't think so.)

"Very well. No firearms. Gentlemen, please hide your pistols and belts with the guns, aft. Zebbie, is there a way to lock that door in addition to dogging it?"

"Sure. Tell Gay. May I ask why? No one can break into the cabin without damaging the old girl so much that she won't lift."

"Conceded, Zebbie. But I will be bringing visitors into this space. If anyone is brash enough to ask to be shown beyond the bulkhead door, I shall tell him that is my private compartment." Aunt Hilda grinned wickedly. "If he persists, I'll freeze his ears. What's the program for locking and unlocking it?"

'Very complicated. Tell her, 'Lock the bulkhead door,' or 'Unlock the bulkhead door.' Concealed solenoids. If the car is cold, the bolts drop back."

"Goodness, you were thorough."

"No, Ma'am. The Aussies were. But it turns out to be convenient for things we wouldn't like to lose. Cap'n, I don't trust banks any more than I trust governments, so I carry my safety deposit vault with me."

"If you cut the trickle charge, it unlocks?" Pop asked.

"Jake, I knew you would spot that. An accumulator across the solenoids, floating. Shut down the car and the solenoids work for another month... unless you open a switch in an odd location. Anyone want to know where it is?-what you don't know, you can't tell."

He got no takers. Instead I said, "Captain, is a fléchette gun a 'firearm'?"

"Hmm- Will it fit into a zippered compartment in your purse?"

"It fits into a concealed zipper compartment."

"Keep it with you. No swords, gentlemen, as well as no firearms; we are a civilian party. One thing we should carry: those miniature walky-talkies, Deety and I in our purses, you gentlemen in your pockets. If they are noticed, tell the truth: a means of keeping our party in touch."

Aunt Hilda suddenly looked stern. "This next order should be in writing. Please understand that there are no exceptions, no special circumstances, no variations left to individual judgment. I require Roger-Wilcoes from each of you or we do not ground. This party does not separate. Not for thirty seconds. Not for ten seconds. Not at all."

"Will the Captain entertain a question?"

"Certainly, Zebbie."

"Washrooms. Restrooms. Bathrooms. If these British behave like their analogs, such facilities are segregated."

"Zebbie, all I can say to that is that I will look for a way to cope. But we stay together until I-until I, the Captain-decide that it is safe to ease the rule. In the meantime- We should use that unpopular honey bucket before we ground... then, if necessary, return to the car, together, to use it later. That's not subject to discussion. Once we are on the ground, you three, acting unanimously, can hold a bloodless mutiny over this order or any"-Aunt Hilda looked directly at her husband-"and I will let myself be kicked out without a word... out of office as captain, out of the car, out of the party. Remain here, on Mars-ten, with the British if they will have me. No more questions. No further discussion by me or among yourselves. Astrogator."

"Roger Wilco!"

"Thank you. Please state it in the long form."

"I understand the Captain's order and will comply exactly with no mental reservations."

"Chief Pilot."

"I understand-"

"Short form. Deety defined it."

"Roger Wilco, Captain!"

Aunt Hilda turned in the air toward Pop-and I held my breath, three endless seconds. "Jacob?"

"Roger Wilco, Captain."

"Very well. We will ground as soon as we get clearance but will not ask for

clearance until I've heard the news and translated that Russian." Whereupon I told her that we all intended to put on our best bib and tucker; the time should come out about right-and could we be relieved one by one? As I intended to use that darned thunder mug-when you must, you must.

Aunt Hilda frowned slightly. "I do wish that I had a jump suit in my size. This outfit-"

"Aunt Hilda! Your crew is in uniform but you are wearing the latest Hollywood style. That model was created by Ferrara himself and he charged you more than you paid for that mink cape. You are the Captain and dress to please yourself. I tell you three times!"

Aunt Hilda smiled. "Should I acknowledge in paraphrase?"

"By all means."

"Deety, I require my crew to wear uniforms. But I dress to suit myself, and when I saw what the world-famous couturier Mario Ferrara was doing to change the trend in women's sports clothes, I sent for him and worked him silly until he got just what I wanted. Including repeated washings of the trousers to give them that not-quite-new look so favored by the smart set for yachting. When you come back will you fetch your little shoes-my Keds- and the hair ribbon you gave me? They are part of Signor Ferrara's creation."

"Aunt Hilda honey, you make it sound true!"

"It is true. You told me three times. I don't even regret the thousand newdollar bonus I gave him. That man is a genius! Get along dear-git. Chief Pilot, you have the conn; I want the earphones."

I was back in ten minutes with jump suits for self and Pop and clean pilot suit for my husband.

I sailed their clothes toward Pop and Zebadiah. Aunt Hilda was handing phones back to Zebadiah; his suit caught both of them. "Wups, sorry but not very. What do the Russians say?"

"We're baddies," said my husband.

"We are? The suit I took off is loose back aft. Wrap it around your pistol and belt and shove them under the sleeping bag-pretty please?"

"With sugar on it?"

"At today's prices? Yes. Beat it. Cap'n, what sort of baddies?"

"Spies and agents-saboteurs and other things and indemnity is demanded in the name of the Tsar and the surrender of our persons, all twelve of us-"

"Twelve?"

"So they claim. -for trial before they hang us. Or else. The 'or-else' amounts to a threat of war."

"Heavens! Are we going to ground?"

"Yes. The British comment was that a source close to the Governor reports that the Russians have made another of their periodic claims of territorial violation and espionage and the note was routinely rejected. I intend to be cautious. We won't leave the car unless I am convinced that we will receive decent treatment."

Shortly we were again doing one-second jumps in a circle around Windsor

City. Had Pop not pulled another blunder in handling Aunt Hilda we would have been on the ground two hours ago. "Blunder," rather than "insult"-but I'm not Hilda, I'm Deety. My ego is not easily bruised. Before I married, if a man patronized me and it mattered, I used to invite him to go skeet shooting. Even if he beat me (happened once), he never patronized me again.

If it's an unsocial encounter- I'm big, I'm strong, I fight dirty. A male has to be bigger, stronger, and just as well trained or I can take him. Haven't had to use the fléchette gun yet. But twice I've broken arms and once I kicked a mugger in the crotch and said he fainted.

Zebadiah was having trouble with traffic control. "-request permission to ground. This is private yacht Gay Deceiver, U.S. registry, Chief Pilot Carter speaking. All we want is clearance to ground. You're behaving like those youknow-what-I-mean Russians. I didn't expect this from Englishmen."

Wow, now! Where are you? You sound close by... but we can't get a fix on you."

"We are circling your city at a height above ground of five kilometers."

"How much is that in feet? Or miles?"

I touched my husband's shoulder. "Tell him sixteen thousand feet."

"Sixteen thousand feet."

'What bearing?"

"We're circling."

"Yes, but- See Imperial House at City Center? What bearing?"

"We are much too fast for you to take a bearing. While you speak one sentence, we've gone around twice."

"Oh, tell that to the Jollies; old sailors will never believe it."

Aunt Hilda tapped Zebadiah; he passed the microphone to her. Aunt Hilda said crisply, "This is Captain Burroughs, commanding. State your name, rating, and organization number."

I heard a groan, then silence. Twenty-three seconds later another voice came on. "This is the officer of the watch, Leftenant Bean. Is there a spot of trouble?"

"No, Lieutenant, merely stupidity. My chief pilot has been trying for fifteen minutes for clearance to ground. Is this a closed port? We were not told so by your embassy on Earth. We were warned that the Russians discouraged visitors, and indeed, they tried to shoot us out of the sky. What is your full name and your regiment, Lieutenant; I intend to make a formal report when I return home,"

'Please, Madam! This is Leftenant Brian Bean, Devonshire Royal Fusiliers. May I ask to whom I am speaking?"

"Very well. I will speak slowly; please record. I am Captain Hilda Burroughs, commanding space yacht Gay Deceiver, out of Snug Harbor in the Americas."

"Captain, let me get this clear. Are you commanding both a spaceship in orbit and a landing craft from your ship? Either way, please let me have the elements of your ship's orbit for my log, and tell me the present position of your landing craft. Then I can assign you a berth to ground."

"Do I have your word as a British officer and gentleman that you will not shoot us out of the sky as those Russian vandals attempted to do?"

'Madam-Captain-you have my word."

"Gay Bounce. We are now approximately forty-nine thousand feet above your city."

"But- We understood you to say 'Sixteen thousand'?"

"That was five minutes ago; this craft is fast." Aunt Hilda released the button. "Deety, get rid of the special 'Tramp' program."

I told Gay to return "Tramp" to her perms and to wipe the temporary mods. "Done."

Aunt Hilda pressed the mike button. "Do you see us now?" She released the button. "Deety, I want us over that big building-'Imperial House,' probably-in one transition. Can you tell Zebbie and Jacob what it takes?"

I looked it over. We should be at the edge of the city-but were we? Get a range and triangulate? No time! Guess at the answer, double it and divide by two. Arc tan four tenths. "Pop, can you transit twenty-one degrees from vertical toward city hail?"

"Twenty-one degrees. Sixty-nine degrees of dive toward the big barn in the park, relative bearing broad on the port bow, approx-set! One unit transition, ten klicks-set!"

'7 can see you now, I do believe," came Mr. Bean's voice. 'Barely."

"We'll come lower." Aunt Hilda chopped off the lieutenant. "Zebbie, put her into glide as soon as you execute. Deety, watch H-above-G and scram if necessary-don't wait to be told. Zebbie, execute at will."

"Jake, execute!"-and we were down so fast I got goose bumps... especially as Zebadiah then dived vertically to gain glide speed and that's mushy, slow, slow, on Mars.

But soon Aunt Hilda was saying tranquilly, "We are over Imperial House. You see us?"

'Yes, yes! My word! Bloody!"

"Leftenant, watch your language!" Aunt Hilda winked at me and snickered silently.

"Madam, I apologize."

"Captain,' if you please," she said, smiling while her voice dripped icicles.

"Captain, I apologize."

"Accepted. Where am I to ground?"

'Ah, figured from Imperial House, there is a landing field due south of it twelve miles. I will tell them to expect you."

Hilda let up on the button, said, "Gay Bounce" and racked the microphone. "How unfortunate that the lieutenant's radio cut out before he could tell us how far away that field is. Or was it our radio?"

I said, "Captain, you know durn well both radios worked okay."

"Mercy, I must be getting old. Was Smart Girl in recording mode?"

I said, "She always is, during maneuvers. She wipes it in a ten-hour cycle."

"Then my bad hearing doesn't matter. Please ask her to repeat the lieu-

tenant's last speech." I did, and Gay did. "Deety, can you have her wipe it right after the word 'it'?"

"Auntie, you ain't goin' to Heaven." I had Gay wipe twelve-miles-I-will-tellthem-to-expect-you. "But you wouldn't know anybody there."

"Probably not, dear. Zebbie, how does one have Smart Girl ground herself without juice?"

"Deety had better go over it again. Unless-~Jake, will you explain it?"

"It's Deety's caper. I could use another drill."

"All right," I agreed. "Switch off Gay's ears, Zebadiah. Gay can make any transition exactly if she knows precisely where her target is. Even a jump of less than one minimum. I found that out the day we got here when we were testing remote control. The rest came from perfecting the 'Bug-Out' routine by having her pause and sweep the target and if it's obstructed, she bounces. Aunt Hilda, if you intend to ground, we had better not be much under five klicks or we'll have to bounce and start over."

"I've got air bite, Captain. I'll stretch it."

"Thanks, Zebbie. Deety, you do it. Let us all learn."

"Okay. I need both pilots. You haven't said where to ground."

"Wasn't that clear? Due south of Imperial House. I think it is a parade ground. Nothing on it but a flagpole on the north side. Put her down in front of the building but miss that flagpole."

"It would take override to hit that flagpole. Zebadiah, gunsight the spot you want to park on. I'll talk to Gay. Then put her in level flight in the orientation you want, and give 'Execute.' Pop, Gay should pause at exactly one-half klick, to see that her parking spot is clear and to recheck distance. That stop won't be long-a fraction of a second-but, if she fails to make it, try to bounce. Probably you can't; if I missed in debugging, maybe we'll all be radioactive. Been nice knowing you all. Okay, switch on her ears." My husband did so.

"Gay Deceiver."

"Hello, Deety. I've missed you."

"Unpowered autogrounding mode."

"Gonna ground by myself without a drop of juice! Where?"

"New target. Code word: 'Parade Ground.' Point of aim and range-finder method."

"Show him to me. I can lick him!"

I touched my husband's shoulder. "Let her know."

"On target, Gay. Steady on target."

"Range three-seven-two-nine, three-seven-naughty-nought, three-five-ninenine-got him, Deety!"

Zebadiah leveled us out, headed us north. "Execute!"

We were parked facing the big front steps. That flagpole was ten meters from Gay's nose.

Pop said, "Deety, I could see the check stop but it was too short for me to act. But your programs always work."