"Wouldn't bother me. That's their problem."

"But it would destroy the theory I worked out that would account for my sitting here in a pool of water in a time-travelling flying saucer with a fabulous man-both ways!-when I know he's a fictional character in a book I read years back. That makes me a fictional character, too, but that doesn't trouble me as I can't read a novel with me in it, any more than you could read the one I read about you."

"I came close to doing just that."

"Don't be mysterious, Lazarus."

"I like wild stories. Used to read every one I could find in the Kansas City Public Library. On another time trip I picked up a magazine of a type you may never have seen. Read one installment of a serial. Ridiculous. Four people traveling in space in an airplane. At the end of that installment they are hailed by a flying saucer. Continued next month. Hilda, how do you think Dora was able to be at the right place at the right time when Gay Deceiver popped out of nowhere?"

'Where is that magazine?"

"Down the same destruction oubliette that recently received my best fake Scottish chief costume. If I had not learned long ago to dispose of casual fiction once I had read it, Dora would never be able to lift. Hilda, you explained it yoursel-_"

"Hilda? Do you hear me"-her husband's voice.

Her face lit up. "Yes, Jacob?"

"May I see you? I have a problem."

I barely whispered, "I'll get out," and started to stand up. She pulled me back down. "Of course, Jacob dearest. I'm in the flag cabin. Where are you?"

"In our suite."

"Come straight here." She whispered to me, "Do we have a deal?" I nodded; she stuck out her hand; we shook on it. "Partners," she whispered. "Details later. Maureen first."

Her husband answered, "Hilda, I don't know my way. And it's a private matter."

"Then you must come here, Jacob; this is the only private place in the ship. I've been talking business with Lazarus Long-business so private we had to talk here. No more trouble, dearest man, and we each get what we want. Come join us, we need you."

"Uh... can he hear me?"

"Certainly. We're having a bath together. Come join us. I want you to know all about the deal before we tell the children. I may need support on parts where we traded quid pro quo."

Silence- "I'd better call back later."

I said, "Doctor Burroughs, you want to talk privately with your wife; I will get out. But please understand that social bathing is as commonplace on my world as offering a friend a drink is on yours. I am here because the Commodore invited me and I assure you she is quite unharmed."

Burroughs replied in a pained voice, "I know that custom and have utter faith in Hilda's social judgment. Yes, I do need to speak to her....ut I don't mean to be surly. I'll come up, or down, or across, and say hello. Please don't leave before I get there. I'll ask my way."

"Dora will show you. Step into the corridor and wait. She'll find you."

"Very well, sir."

"Dora, special."

"Yes, Pappy?"

"Find Professor Burroughs. Lead him here. By the longest route. Slow march."

"Aye aye, Pappy."

I said hurriedly to Hilda, "I may know what this is; let me check. Lib?"

"Yes, Lazarus?"

"Are you alone?"

"In my stateroom alone. And lonely." Lib added, "And upset."

"So? Did you put the question to Professor Burroughs?"

"Yes. Lazarus, I had perfect opportunity. The one place Dora can't see or hear. Inside Gay Deceiver's space warp and-"

"Chop it, Lib! Did he turn you down?"

"No. But he didn't say Yes. He's gone to discuss it with his wife. That's why I'm jittery."

"Turn on the soother. I'll call you back. Off."

Hilda asked, "What's the matter with Elizabeth?"

"I'll make it short as even the longest route can't take long. Lib is terribly anxious to have a child by the mathematician-your husband-who formulated the equations for six-dimensional positively-curved space. She thinks- and so do I-that they might produce a mathematician equal to, or even greater, than Lib or your husband. But she should have let Ishtar arrange it. She jumped the gun; I don't know why-"

"I do! Elizabeth!"

Lib was slow in answering. "This is Elizabeth Long."

"Hilda Burroughs here. Elizabeth, you come straight here. Flag cabin."

"Commodore, are you angry with me? I meant no harm."

"Dear, dear! You come to Mama Burroughs' arms and let me pet you and tell you that you're a good girl. Now! How far away are you?"

"Just around the curve. A few meters."

"Drop everything and hurry. Lazarus and I are in the 'fresher. In the pool. Come join us."

"Uh, all right."

"Hurry!"

Hilda asked, "How do I let them in? Run dripping and do it by hand? I noticed that our door lets anyone out but can't be opened from the outside without help." She added, "For that matter how do I get back in?"

"Dora knows you belong here. For the rest- Dora, admit Libby Long and Professor Burroughs."

"Aye aye, Pappy. Lib-here she comes. Dr. Jacob Burroughs I'm fetching. How soon?"

Hilda said, "Two minutes."

Lib hurried in, still unsmiling. Did smile when Hilda put her arms around her, smiled and cried at the same time. I heard Hilda crooning, "There, there, dear! It's a wonderful idea; she'll be the world's greatest mathematician. A cute baby-something like Deety, something like you. Jacob! In here, darling! If you are wearing anything, chuck it; we're in the pool."

Seconds later the pool was filled to its rated capacity, Hilda with arms around both of them-kissed her husband, kissed Lib, said sternly to them, "Stop looking as if you were at a funeral! Jacob, this is what Jane would want-and it is what I want. Elizabeth, you aren't crowding me out; I'm pregnant now. I'll have my baby six weeks before you have yours. I've decided to ask Doctor Lafe Hubert to deliver my baby. Who are-"

'Hilda! I haven't delivered a baby for over a century."

"You have seven months in which to brush up. Doctor Lafe, are you refusing to attend me?"

"No, but- Jake, if Hilda will have her baby at the Clinic on Tertius, she will be in the hands of the most skilled obstetricians in this universe. Which I am not. I'm rusty. I-"

"Doctor, I think Hilda would settle for your holding her hand and standing by to help if needed. I think my daughter would like that, too. She may have her baby the same day as Hilda."

"Sir, I will be honored. But I want to say something about this proposed baby, a cross between two all-time great mathematicians. I know that your world places value on monogamy. Howards do not; they can't. But this need not violate your values. If you will make a deposit at the sperm bank at-"

'What?" Hilda Burroughs looked shocked. "Lazarus, are you talking about syringes and things like that. Done to Elizabeth?"

"Why, yes, I-"

She chopped me off. "Babies are not made with syringes! Babies are made with love! With little moans of happiness between two people who know exactly what they are doing and want to do it. Elizabeth, are you fertile today?"

"I should be. It's time."

"Then kiss me and tell me you want to do this. If you do."

"Oh, I do, very much!"

There were kisses and tears all around. I got pulled into it, found myself kissing the prospective father. I gave him a chance to duck but he didn't.

Our busy little stranger was still playing ringmaster. "Lazarus, what is that guest room across the cabin? Pastel colors?"

"Aurora Room."

"Beloved husband, wrap a towel around this sweet, frightened child, take her there, lock the door behind you and make her happy. This suite is the only totally private place in this ship. If I lay eyes on either of you in less than one hour, I shall burst into tears. That doesn't mean you can't stay longer. I hope that you will come to dinner... but you are welcome to Aurora Room after dinner. Sweetheart, you must give her at least one chance each of the next three days; a woman's timing can vary from her norm. Now git! Pick her up and carry her."

Lib wouldn't let Jake carry her. But she leaned into his arm. As they left the 'fresher, she looked back with a happy smile and threw us a kiss.

Hilda caught it and ate it. Then she said to me, "Help me out, please, dear."

I lifted her out, sat her on the edge, climbed out myself. She patted the padded deck, said, "I think this is better than that chaise longue. If we happen to be caught it wouldn't embarrass me and should not embarrass you; in these circumstances Jacob would be relieved rather than upset." She smiled, eased her sweet thighs, put up her arms. "Now?"

"Yes!"

"Anything you want, including back rubs. Lazarus, does it excite you knowing what is going on a few meters away? It does me!"

"Yes! But I don't need it-Hilda, you're superb!"

"Not in looks, certainly. So I try hard with what I have. Sold myself three times-did my best to make my contract-husbands each feel that he had received full value....hen married dear Jacob for love and am trying still harder with him. He is good-I mean he is good all through. I hope Elizabeth appreciates him. You've had her?"

"Yes."

"Before or after the change?"

"Both. I miss the 'before,' appreciate the 'after."

"Then why won't you knock her up?"

"That's a family joke. She had her first child by me, is now making the rounds of our family, more or less. Woman, you are not here to talk!-I'm almost there!"

She looked delighted. "I'm climaxing steadily; let 'er rip!"-and bit my chin.

An indefinitely long time later that need not be detailed, we were resting

in each other's arms, enjoying that delicious peace of the ebbing tide. Hilda saw them first, raised her head:

"Jacob beloved! Did you! Lib- Did my sweetheart put a baby in you?"

"Did he! Hilda, you do that every night? Little bitty like you? Less than two hours and darling Jacob has worn me out."

"I'm a hollow mockery, dear. Built for it. Tell her, Jacob."

"My darling is adaptable, Libby dear. Lazarus, did Hilda treat you nicely?"

"I died happy."

"He's not dead"-Hilda made a long arm, cupped a handful of water, threw it in my face, giggled. The suggestion she added I rejected with dignity-as much dignity as one can manage when two women are tumbling one into a tub of water....hile one's male comrade stands by and laughs.

XLIV

"-where do we get the corpse?"

Zeb:

"The question," said my wife Deety, "is where do we get the corpse? With timing that precise, Gay can make the pickup. But a corpse has to be left behind. Lazarus, not only do your movies show it, but you remember Maureen's death; you went to her funeral. It's got to be a fresh corpse of an elderly woman that the cops will accept as Maureen Johnson."

Six of us-Deety, me, Jake, Sharpie, Lazarus, and Libby-were seated around our kitchen dining table at "New Harbor" (our wives accepted that compromise) in Beulahland, trying to make plans for the "snatch." "Snatch" in the literal sense if the rescue of Maureen Johnson were to succeed.

Lazarus had a motion picture that showed that we would succeed (had succeeded) (were about to succeed) at a precise time and place and date on an analog of Earth-zero one quantum away on 't' axis.

Easy! Success guaranteed. Can't miss. Do it blindfolded.

But suppose we did miss?

The frames showed that a roadable had passed through the space where Gay had been (would be?) grounded, and, in so doing, ran over (would run Over) (will run over) (is, was, and forever will be running over) the dumped corpse. Suppose the timing or placement was offjust a touch. On his first time travel (1916-1918 Old-Home-Terra), with Dora piloting, Lazarus had missed not by a split second but by three years.

Lazarus had pointed out that it was his fault, not Dora's; he had fed her Imperfect data-and we had jumped on him from five sides: It was not a

question of "whose fault" but the fact a mistake could be made. Or could it?

Four mathematicians, one mathematical engineer (yeah, I include me, as resident expert in Gay's responses), and one intuitionist all disagreed.

Hilda was certain that nothing could go wrong.

I am a firm believer in Murphy's Law: Given any possible chance, it will go wrong. Anything.

Libby had been wholeheartedly converted both to Jake's six-axis plenum of universes to the awful Number of the Beast but also to Sharpie's multiple solipsism, and asserted that they were two sides of the same coin; one was a corollary of the other and vice versa. Combined, they (it) constituted the ultimate total philosophy: science, religion, mathematics, art, in one grand consistent package. She spoke of a "ficton" being a quantum of imagination/reality ("imaginary" being identical with "real" whatever that is) as casually as a physicist speaks of photons. "Could a mistake be made? Yes. And would create a new universe. Jacob, you spoke of the empty universes your family had visited. One by one they fill as fictons are created." She added, "But a mistake was not made; we snatched Maureen safely. We ourselves create the fictionsfictons-ficta that will make it real."

She was euphoric. I attributed it to excitement over the coming adventure. I was mistaken.

Lazarus, a highly competent mathematician although not the unique that Jake is or Libby, was in this case not a calm abstractionist; his mood was grim determination to win or die trying-causing me to recall how he got his arse shot off.

Jake turned out to be a determinist (he himself being one universe's prime example of utter, rambunctious free will!).

Deety is a pragmatic mathematician, unworried by theory. Oz is real, she is real, "fictons" don't interest her. "Don't fret, Lazarus. We can do it, Gay can do it-and we won't do it until Gay is certain of her program."

This discussion had started midafternoon in Dora. Sharpie had worked out her difficulties with Lazarus (to my enormous relief; were those two to wind up on opposite sides in anything more serious than Parcheesi, I yearn to be elsewhere-say Timbuktu under an assumed name); she, Jake, Lazarus, and Libby were in the flag cabin, arguing, when Sharpie had Dora page Deety and me.

There were endless matters on the agenda Uncluding the preposterous notion that we four were 'Missing Howards' and that Lazarus was registering us as such. I'm not sure I want to live a thousand years or even two hundred. But I am sure of this: a) I want to live quite a piece; and b) I want to be alert, healthy, and active right up to the last. Not like my great-grandfather who had to be spoonfed at a hundred and five, and could not control his secretions. But the Howards have got that whipped: you stay young as long as you wish, then die by choice when you feel you've had your full run.

(Yes, I was willing to be a 'Found Howard' since it included Deety, plus little Deeties ad infinitum.)

Lots of other business, all of it postponed (including the problem of "Black Hats"), in order to deal with rescuing Maureen Johnson.

We were still discussing knotty aspects when Lor's voice said: "Commodore?"

"Yes, Captain?" Sharpie had answered.

"Ma'am, I hesitate to disturb you-"

"Quite all right, Lor. The Captain must always be able to reach me."

"Uh, Ma'am, Dora told me that she was forbidden to call you. She has for you a variety of New Rome styles for women and men, a military uniform for Doctor Jacob, and one for Doctor Zebadiah, and evening formals for Doctor Elizabeth and Doctor Deety-and she's not sure where to send any of them."