"What horse?"
"A nightmare. Now about those waffles. Mistress Minerva, will you join me in waffles? I can't stand to have you standing there salivating and swallowing and starving while I wallow in waffles."
"I have already broken fast today-"
"Too bad."
"-but that was some hours ago and I would like to experience waffles; both Hazel and Maureen speak well of them. Thank you; I accept."
"You didn't invite me!"
"But, Teena my prospective child bride, if you do as you threaten to, my table will be yours; to invite you to share it would be a tautologically redundant plethora of excess surplusage, repetitious and almost insulting. Did Maureen say how waffles should be served? With drawn butter and maple syrup and plenty of crisp bacon... accompanied by fruit juice and coffee. The juice should be ice-cold; the rest should be hot."
"Three minutes, lover boy."
I was about to answer when that insubstantial wall again opened and Rabbi Ezra walked in. Walked in. He was using
crutch canes but he was on two legs.
He grinned at me and waved a crutch cane. "Dr. Ames!
Good to see you awake!"
"Good to see you, Reb Ezra. Mistress Teena, please make
that order three of everything."
"I already did. And lox and bagels and strawberry jam."
It was a jolly meal despite all the questions on my mind. The food was grand and I was hungry; Minerva and Ezra- and Teena-were good company. I was chasing syrup with the last bite of my first waffle before I said, "Reb Ezra, have you seen Hazel this morning? My wife. I had expected her to be
here."
He seemed to hesitate; Teena answered, "She'll be here later,
Dickie. She can't hang around waiting for you to wake up; she has other things to do. And other men."
'Teena, quit trying to get my goat. Or I won't marry you
even if Hazel and Jock both agree."
"Want to bet? You jilt me, you cad, and I'll run you right off this planet. You won't get another bite to eat, doors won't open for you, refreshers will scald you, dogs will bite you. And you will itch."
"Sister."
"Aw, Minnie."
Minerva went on, to me: "Don't let my sister fret you, Colonel. She teases because she wants company and attention. But she is an ethical computer, utterly reliable."
"I'm sure she is, Minerva. But she can't expect to tease me and threaten me, and still expect me to stand up in front of a judge or a priest or somebody and promise to love, honor, and obey her. I'm not sure I want to obey her anyhow."
The computer voice answered, "You won't have to promise to obey, Dickie boy; I'll train you later. Just simple things. Heel. Fetch. Sit up. Lie down. Roll over. Play dead. I don't expect anything complex out of a man. Aside from stud duties, that is. But on that score your reputation has preceded you."
"What do you mean by that?" I threw my serviette down. "That tears it! The wedding is off."
"Friend Richard."
"Eh? Yes, Reb."
"Don't let Teena worry you. She has propositioned me, and you, and Father Hendrik, and Choy-Mu, and, no doubt, many others. Her ambition is to make Cleopatra look like a piker."
"And Ninon de Lenclos, and Rangy Lil, and Marie Antoinette, and Rahab, and Battleship Kate, and Messalina, and you name her. I'm going to be the champion nymphomaniac of the multiverse, beautiful as sin, and utterly irresistible. Men will fight duels over me and kill themselves on my doorstep and write odes to my little finger. Women will swoon at my voice. Every man, woman, and child will worship me from afar and I'll love as many of them up close as I can fit into my schedule. So you don't want to be my bridegroom, eh? What a filthy, wicked, evil, stinking, utterly selfish thing to say! Angry mobs will tear you to bits and drink your blood."
^Mistress Teena, that is not polite table talk. We are eating."
"You started it."
I tried to review the bidding. Had I started it? No, indeed, she-
Reb Ezra said to me in a prison whisper, "Give up. You can't win. I know."
"Mistress Teena, I'm sorry I started it. I should not have done so. It was naughty of me."
"Oh, that's all right." The computer sounded warmly pleased. "And you don't have to call me 'Mistress Teena'; hardly anyone uses titles around here. If you called Minerva 'Dr. Long,' she would look around to see who was standing behind her."
"All right, Teena, and please call me 'Richard.' Mistress Minerva, you have a doctor's degree? Medical doctor?"
"One of my degrees is in therapy, yes. But my sister is right; titles are not often used here. 'Mistress' one never hears... other than as a term of affection to a woman you have gifted with your carnal love. So there is no need to call me 'Mistress Minerva'... until you choose to gift me with that boon. When you do. If you do." Right across the plate! I almost failed to lay a bat on it. Minerva seemed so modest, meek, and mild that she took me by surprise.
Teena gave me time in which to regroup. "Minnie, don't try to hustle him right out from under me. He's mine."
"Better ask Hazel. Better yet, ask him."
"Dickie boy! Tell her!" "What can I tell her, Teena? You haven't settled it with
Hazel and my Uncle Jock. But in the meantime-" I contrived to bow to Minerva as well as one can from bed and handicapped by a spinal block. "Dear lady, your words do me great honor. But, as you know, I am at present physically immobilized, unable to share in such delights. In the meantime may we take the wish for the deed?"
"Don't you dare call her 'Mistress'!"
"Sister, behave yourself. Sir, you may indeed call me 'Mistress.' Or, as you say, we can treat the wish for the deed and wait until a later time. Your therapy will take time."
"Ah, yes. So it will." I glanced at the little maple, no longer quite so little. "How long have I been here? I must already have run up quite a bill."
"Don't worry about it," Minerva advised me. "I must worry about it. Bills must be paid. And I don't even have Medicare." I looked at the Rabbi. "Rabbi, how did you finance your-transplants, are they?- You're as far from home and your bank account as I am."
"Farther than you think. And it is no longer appropriate to address me as Rabbi-where we are today, the Torah is not known. I am now Private Ezra Davidson, Time Corps Irregulars. That pays my bills. I think something like it pays yours. Teena, can you-I mean, 'will you'-tell Dr. Ames the account to which his bills are charged?"
"He has to ask it himself."
"I do ask, Teena. Please tell me."
'"Campbell, Colin,' also known as 'Ames, Richard': charges, all departments, to Senior's special account, 'Galactic Overlord-Miscellaneous.' So don't fret, lover boy; you're a charity case, all bills on the house. Of course the ones on that account usually don't live long."
"Athene!"
"But, Minnie, that's the simple truth. An average of one point seven three missions, then we pay their death benefits. Unless he's ordered to some featherbed job at THQ."
(I was not listening carefully. "Galactic Overlord" indeed! Only one person could have set up that account. The playful little darling. Damn it, dear-where are you?)
That none-too-solid wall blinked away again. "Am I too late for breakfast? Oh, pshaw! Hello, darling!"
It was she!
XXII
"When in doubt, tell the truth."
MARK TWAIN 1835-1910
"Richard, I did see you the next morning. But you didn't see me."
"She certainly did see you, Dickie boy," Teena confirmed. "At great risk to her own health. Be glad you're alive. You almost weren't."
"That's true," agreed Ezra. "I was your roommate part of one night. Then they moved me and put you in tight quarantine, and inoculated me nine or ninety ways. My brother, you were sick unto death."