"Odd indeed. Yet the owners of Golden Rule have offered a substantial reward for your death. Or, to be precise, for delivering you alive or dead, with no emphasis on keeping you alive-just your body, cobber, warm or cold. Should I point out that, if I were your attorney, I would be ethically bound not to exploit this opportunity?"
"Rabbi, I don't think you would anyhow; you're too much the old Loonie. You're simply trying to chivvy me into hiring you. Mmm. I claim the Three Days."
"Three days, it is. Do you want skin receipts or will chits suffice?"
"Since I've lost the look of a Loonie, we had better have both."
"Very well. A crown or two for luck?"
The Reverend Ezra stamped our forearms with the date three months hence and with his chop, using a waterproof ink visible only in black light, and showed us, using his test lamp, that we were marked and now could legally breathe for one quarter anywhere in L-City municipal pressure-and enjoy other concomitant privileges such as passage through public cubic. I offered him three crowns over what I had paid for air; he accepted two.
I thanked him and bade him good day; we went on down the tunnel, each somewhat awkwardly burdened. Fifty meters farther along, the tunnel debouched into a main corridor. We were about to exit, and I was checking my orientation, deciding whether to go left or right, when I heard a whistle and a soprano voice. "Hold it! Not so fast. Inspection first."
I stopped and turned. She had a face that spells "civil servant"-and don't ask me how. I simply know, from three planets, several planetoids, and still more habitats, that after racking up a number of years toward retirement, all civil servants have this look. She wore a uniform that was neither police nor military. "Just in from Kong?"
I agreed that we were.
"Are you three together? Put everything on the table. Open up everything. Any fruits, vegetables, or food?"
I said, "What is this?"
Gwen said, "I have a Hershey bar. Want a bite?"
"I think that counts as bribery. Sure, why not?"
"Of course I'm trying to bribe you. I have a small alligator in my purse. He's neither fruit nor vegetable; I suppose he could be food. In any case he's almost certainly against your stuffy rules."
"Wait a minute; I'll have to check the lists." The inspector consulted a very large loose-leaf volume of terminal printout. "Alligator pears; alligator skins, cured or tanned; alligators, stuffed- Is this one stuffed?"
"Only when he overeats; he's greedy."
"Dearie, are you trying to tell me that you've got a live alligator in that purse?"
"Put your hand in my purse at your own risk. He's trained as a guard alligator. Count your fingers before you reach in, then count them again as you take your hand out."
"You're joking."
"What odds? And how much? But remember, I warned you."
"Oh, piffle!" The inspector reached into Gwen's purse- gave a yelp as she snatched her hand out. "It bit me!" She stuck her fingers into her mouth.
"That's what he's there for," said Gwen. "I warned you. Are you hurt? Let me see."
The two women inspected the hand, each decided that red marks were the extent of the damage. "That's good," said Gwen. "I've been trying to teach him to grasp firmly but not to break the skin. And never, never bite fingers off. He's learning; he's still young. But you shouldn't have been able to get your hand back that easily. Alfred is supposed to hang on like a bulldog while the radio alarm causes me to come a-running."
"I don't know anything about bulldogs but he certainly tried to take my finger off."
"Oh, surely not! Have you ever seen a dog?"
"Just dressed-out carcasses in meat markets. No, I take that back; I saw one in Tycho Zoo when I was a little girl. Big ugly brute. Scared me."
"Some are small and some aren't ugly. A bulldog is ugly but not very big. What a bulldog is best at is biting and hanging on. That's what I'm training King Alfred to do."
'Take him out and show him to me."
"No indeed! He's a guard beast; I don't want him getting petted and cooed over by other people; I want him to bite. If you want to see him, you reach in and take him out. Maybe this time he'll hang on. I hope."
That ended any attempt to inspect us. Adele Sussbaum, Unnecessary Public Servant First Class, agreed that Tree-San was not verboten, admired it, and inquired as to its flowers. When she and Gwen started exchanging recipes, I insisted that we had to get moving-if the municipal health and safety inspection was finished.
We slanted across Outer Ring; I smelted out the Causeway and was oriented. We went down a level and passed through Old Dome, then headed down the tunnel where my memory said the Raffles Hotel ought to be.
But en route Bill exposed me to some of his political opinions. "Senator-"
"Not 'Senator,' Bill. Doctor."
"'Doctor.' Yes, sir. Doctor, I think it's wrong, what happened back there."
"Yes, it is. That so-called inspection is pointless. It's the sort of expensive, useless accretion all governments acquire over the years, like barnacles on an ocean ship."
"Oh, I don't meant that. That's okay; it protects the city and gives her an honest job."
"Strike the word 'honest.'"
"Huh? I was talking about charging for air. That's wrong. Air should be free."
"Why do you say that. Bill? This isn't New Orleans; this is the Moon. No atmosphere. If you don't buy air, how are you going to breathe?"
"But that's just what I mean! Air to breathe is everybody's right. The government should supply it."
"The city government does supply it, everywhere inside the city pressure. That's what we just paid for." I fanned the air in front of his nose. "This stuff."
"But that's what I'm saying! Nobody should have to pay for the breath of life. It's a natural right and the government should supply it free."
I said to Gwen, "Wait a moment, dear; this has got to be settled. We may have to eliminate Bill just to keep him happy. Let's stand right here till we straighten this out. Bill, I paid for air for you to breathe because you have no money. Correct?"
He did not answer at once. Gwen said quietly, "I let him have pocket money. Do you object?"
I looked at her thoughtfully. "I think I should have been told. My love, if I am to be responsible for this family, I must know what is going on in it." I turned to Bill. "When I paid for your air back there, why didn't you offer to pay your share out of the money you had in your pocket?"
"But she gave it to me. Not you."
"So? Give it back to her."
Bill looked startled; Gwen said, "Richard, is this necessary?"
"I think it is."
"But I don't think it is."
Bill kept quiet, did nothing, watched. I turned my back on him to face Gwen privately, said softly, for her ears only:
"Gwen, I need your backing."
"Richard, you're making an issue out of nothing!"
"I don't see it as 'nothing,' dear. On the contrary, it's a key matter and I need your help. So back me up. Or else."
" 'Or else' what, dear?"
"You know what 'or else' means. Make up your mind. Are you going to back me up?"
"Richard, this is ridiculous! I see no reason to cater to it."
"Gwen, I'm asking you to back me up." I waited an endless time, then sighed. "Or start walking and don't look back."
Her head jerked as if I had slapped her. Then she picked up her case and started walking.
Bill's jaw dropped, then he hurried after her, still carrying Tree-San.
XVI
"Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood."
OSCAR WILDE 1854-1900
I watched them out of sight, then started walking slowly. It was easier to walk than to stand still and there was no place near to sit down. My stump ached and all the weariness of the past few days hit me. My mind was numb. I continued to move toward the Raffles Hotel because I was headed that way, programmed.