"Shot by the butchers in that big wheel."
"They were burning, not shooting."
"Richard! Richard! Do you know that they didn't have slug guns as well as energy weapons? I don't."
"Hmm again. My love, you are as devious as a diplomat."
"I am a diplomat. Reach me the soap, pretty please. Richard, let's not volunteer information. We were just passengers, innocent bystanders and stupid as well. How those agrarian reformers died is not our responsibility. My pappy done taught me to hold my cards close to my chest and never admit anything. This is a time for that."
"My pappy done taught me the same thing. Gwen, why didn't you marry me sooner?"
'Took me a while to soften you up, dear. Or vice versa. Ready to shower off?"
While I was drying her, I remembered a point that we had passed by. "Picture bride, where did you learn to drive a rol-ligon?"
"'Where?' Mare Serenitatis."
"Huh?"
"I learned how through watching Gretchen and Auntie. Tonight was the first time I ever drove one."
"Well! Why didn't you say so?"
She started drying me. "Beloved, if you had known, you would have worried. Uselessly. In all the times I've been married I have always made it a rule never to tell my husband anything that would worry him if I could reasonably avoid it." She smiled angelically. "Better so. Men are worriers; women are not."
I was roused out of a deep sleep by loud pounding. "Open up in there!"
I couldn't think of a good reason to answer, so I didn't. I yawned widely, being careful not to let my soul escape, then reached out to my right. And woke up sharply and suddenly;
Gwen was not there.
I got out of bed so quickly that it made me dizzy; I almost fell. I gave my head a shake to clear it, then hopped into the 'fresher. Gwen was not there. The pounding continued.
Don't drink champagne in bed and then go right to sleep;
I had to drain off a liter of used bubbly before I could sigh with relief and think of other matters. The pounding continued, with more shouting.
Tucked into the top of my foot was a note from my beloved. Smart gal! Even better than fastening it to my toothbrush. It read:
Dearest One, I have an attack of wakeupitis, so I'm getting up and taking care of a couple of errands. First I'm going to Sears Montgomery to return our p-suits and pay the rent on them. While I'm at Sears, I'll pick up socks and drawers for you and panties for me and do some other things. I'll leave a note at the desk here telling Bill to turn in his suit, too- and, yes, he did come in after we did and Xia put him in a single, as you arranged with her. Then I'm off to Wyoming Knott Memorial Hospital to see Auntie, and I'll call Eka-terina. You're sleeping like a baby and I hope to be back before you wake up. If not-if you go anywhere-please leave a note at the desk. Love you- Gwendolyn
The pounding continued. I put on my foot, while noting that our p-suits were not where I had last seen them, i.e., arranged in a romantic pose on the floor, a jest created by my bawdy bride. I dressed in the only clothes I had, then watered the little maple, found it did not need much; Gwen must have watered it.
"Open up!"
"Go to hell," I answered politely.
Shortly the pounding was replaced by a scratching noise, so I placed myself close to the door and a bit to one side. This was not a dilating door but the more traditional hinged type.
It swung open; my noisy visitor plunged in. I reached out and threw him across the room. In one-sixth gee this takes some care-you must have a foot braced against something, or you'll lose traction and it won't work.
He sort of bounced off the far wall and wound up on the bed. I said, "Get your dirty feet off my bed!"
He got off the bed and stood up. I continued angrily, "Now explain why you broke into my bedroom... and make it quick before I tear off your arm and beat you over the head with it. Who do you think you are, waking up a citizen who has switched on his Do-Not-Disturb? Answer me!"
I could see what he was: some sort of town clown; he was wearing a uniform that spelled "cop." His reply, mixing indignation with arrogance, matched his appearance. "Why didn't you open up when I ordered you to?"
"Why should I? Do you pay the rent on this room?"
"No, but-"
"There's your answer. Get out of here!"
"Now you listen to me! I am a safety officer of the sovereign city of Hong Kong Luna. You are directed to present yourself before the Moderator of the Municipal Council forthwith to supply information necessary to the peace and security of the city."
"I am, eh? Show me your warrant."
"No warrant needed. I am in uniform and on duty; you are required to cooperate with me. City Ordinance two seventeen dash eighty-two, page forty-one."
"Do you have a warrant to break down the door of my private bedroom? Don't try to tell me that doesn't require a warrant. I'm going to sue you and take every crown you have and that monkey suit as well."
His jaw muscles quivered but all he said was: "Are you coming peacefully or do I have to drag you?"
I grinned at him. "Best two falls out of three? I won the first one. Come ahead." I became aware that we had an audience at the door. "Good morning, Xia. Do you know this clown?"
"Mr. Richard, I'm terribly sorry about this. My day manager tried to stop him; he wouldn't stop. I got here as quickly as I could." I saw that she was barefooted and wearing no makeup- so her sleep had been interrupted, too. I said gently,
"Not your fault, dear. He doesn't have a warrant. Shall I throw him out?"
"Well..." She looked troubled.
"Oh. I see. I think I see. Throughout history, innkeepers have found it necessary to get along with cops. And throughout history, cops have had larcenous hearts and a bully's manners. All right, as a favor to you, I'll let him live." I turned back to the cop. "Boy, you can chase back to your boss and tell him that I will be along presently. After I've had at least two cups of coffee. If he wants me any sooner than that, he had better send a squad. Xia, would you like coffee? Let's go see if Sing has coffee and Danish, or such."
At this point Joe Stormtrooper made it necessary for me to take his gun. I can be shot-I have been shot, more than once- but I can't be shot by anyone who thinks that just pointing a gun at me has changed the odds.
His gun was nothing I wanted-door-prize junk. So I unloaded it, made sure that his ammo was not the caliber I use, dropped the loads down the oubliette, and handed his gun back to him.
At the loss of his cartridges he screamed bloody murder, but I patiently explained to him that his gun was as good as ever for the purpose for which he used it and that, if I had let him keep ammo, he could have hurt himself.
He continued to squawk, so I told him to go squawk to his boss. And turned my back. He was, I feel certain, annoyed. But so was I.
Forty minutes later, feeling better although still sleepy, and after a rewarding chat with Xia over coffee and jelly doughnuts, I presented myself at the office of the Honorable Jefferson Mao, Moderator of the Council of Selectmen of the Sovereign City of Hong Kong Luna-so it said on the door. I wondered what the Congress of Luna Free State thought about this use of the word "sovereign" but it was none of my business.
A brisk woman with slant eyes and red hair (interesting genes, I guess) said, "Name, please?"
"Richard Johnson. The Moderator wants to see me."
She glanced at her monitor. "You're late for your appointment; you'll have to wait. You may sit down."
"And I may not. I said that the Moderator wants to see me;
I did not say that I want to see the Moderator. Punch up that box and let him know that I am here."
"I can't possibly fit you in for at least two hours."
'Tell him I am here. If he won't see me now, I'm leaving."
"Very well, return in two hours."
"You misunderstand me. I'm leaving. Leaving Kong. I won't be back." I was bluffing as I said it and as I said it, I learned that I was not bluffing. My plans, as yet inchoate, had included an indefinite stay in Kong. Now I suddenly realized that I would not remain in a city that had sunk so far in the qualities that constitute civilization that a cop would break into a citizen's bedroom merely because some officious official decides to summon him. No indeed! A private soldier in a decent, well-run, disciplined military outfit has more freedom and more privacy than that. Hong Kong Luna, celebrated in song and story as the cradle of Luna's freedom, was no longer a fit place to live.