"I'm amazed," said Ira. "My knowledge of Earth's history isn't as thorough as I thought it was. However, I concentrated on the period from Ira Howard's death to the founding of New Rome."
"Son, you didn't even sample it. But aside from this one weird story-'weird' because most major religious leaders are heavily documented whereas this one remains as elusive as the King Arthur legends-I'm not going after great events. I'd rather meet Galileo, get a look at Michelangelo at work, attend a first performance of one of old Bill's plays at the Globe Theater, things like that. I'd particularly like to go back to my own childhood, see if things look as I recall them."
Ira blinked. "Run a chance of running into yourself?"
"Why not?"
"Well...there are paradoxes, are there not?'
"How? If I'm going to, then I did. That old cliché about shooting your grandfather before he sires your father, then going fuft! like a soap bubble-and all descendants, too, meaning both of you among others-is nonsense. The fact that I'm here and you're here means that I didn't do it-or won't do it; the tenses of grammar aren't built for time travel-but it does not mean that I never went back and poked around. I haven't any yen to look at myself when I was a snot-nose; it's the era that interests me. If I ran across myself as a young kid, he-I-wouldn't recognize me; I would be a stranger to that brat. He wouldn't give me a passing glance; I know, I was he."
"Lazarus," put in Justin Foote, "if you intend to visit that era, I'd like to invite your attention to one thing Madam Chairman Pro Tem is interested in-because I am interested. A recording of exactly what was said and done at the Families' Meeting in 2012 A.D."
"Impossible."
"Just a moment, Justin," Ira put in. "Lazarus, you have refused to talk about that meeting on the grounds that the others who were there can't dispute your version. But a recording would be fair to everyone."
"Ira, I didn't say that I would not; I said it was impossible."
"I don't follow you."
"I can't make a recording of that meeting because I was not there."
"You lost me again. All the records-and your own statements-show that you were there."
"Again we don't have language adequate for time travel. Surely, I was there as Woodrow Wilson Smith. I was there and made a hairy nuisance of myself and offended a lot of people. But I did not have a recorder on me. Let's say that Dora and the twins drop me back there-me, Lazarus Long, not that younger fellow-and that Ishtar has equipped me with a recorder implanted behind my right kidney, with its minimike surfacing inside my right ear. Okay, let's assume that with such equipment I won't be noticed making a record.
"But, Ira, what you don't understand, despite having chaired many Families' Meetings, is that I would not get inside the hall. In those days an executive meeting of the Families was harder to get into than an esbat of witches. The guards were armed and eager; it was a rough period. What identity could I use? Not Woodrow Wilson Smith; he was there. Lazarus Long? There was no 'Lazarus Long' on the Families' rolls. Try to fake it as someone eligible but not able to attend? Impossible. There were only a few thousand of us then, and every member was known to a large percentage of the rest; a man who couldn't be vouched for ran a nasty chance of being buried in the basement. No unidentified person ever did get in; we had too much at stake. Hi, Minerva! Come in, honey."
"Hi, Lazarus. Ira, am I intruding?"
"Not at all, dear."
"Thank you. Hello, Athene."
"Hello, my sister."
Minerva waited to be introduced. Ira said, "Minerva, you remember Justin Foote, Chief Archivist."
"Certainly, I've worked with him many times. Welcome to Tertius, Mr. Foote."
"Thank you, Miss Minerva." Justin Foote liked what he saw-a tall, slender young woman with an erect carriage, a small, firm bust, long chestnut hair worn in a part and brushed straight down, a sober, intelligent face, handsome rather than pretty, but which blossomed into beauty each time she gave one of her quick smiles. "But, Ira, I must hurry back to Secundus and apply for rejuvenation. This young lady has worked with me 'many times'-yet I've grown so senile I can't place the occasions. Forgive me, dear lady."
Minerva flashed him another of her smiles, then instantly. was sober. "My fault, sir; I should have explained at once. When I worked with you, I was a computer. Executive computer of Secundus, serving Mr. Weatheral, then Chairman Pro Tem. But now I'm a flesh-and-blood, and have been for the past three years."
Justin Foote blinked. "I see. I hope I do."
"I am a proscribed construct, sir, not born of woman. A composite clone of twenty-three donor-parents, forced to maturity in vitro. But the 'I' that is me, my ego, was the computer who used to work with you when the Archives computers needed assistance from the executive computer. Have I made it clear?"
"Uh...all I can say, Miss Minerva, is that I am delighted to meet you in the flesh. Your servant, Miss."
"Oh, don't call me 'Miss,' call me 'Minerva.' I shouldn't be called 'Miss' anyhow; isn't that honorific reserved for virgins among flesh-and-bloods? Ishtar-one of my mothers and my chief designer-deflowered me surgically before she woke me."
"And that ain't all!" came the voice from the ceiling.
"Athene," Minerva said reprovingly. "Sister, you're embarrassing our guest."
"I'm not, but maybe you are, sister mine."
"Am I, Mr. Foote? I hope not. But I'm still learning to be a human being. Will you kiss me? I'd like to kiss you; we've known each other almost a century and I've always liked you. Will you?"
"Now who's embarrassing him, sister?'
"Minerva," said Ira.
She suddenly sobered. "I shouldn't have said that?"
Lazarus cut in. "Pay no attention to Ira, Justin; he's an old stick-in-the-mud. Minerva is a 'kissin cousin' to most of the colony; she's making up for lost time. Furthermore, she is some sort of cousin to practically all of us through her twenty-three parents. And she's learned how-kissing her is a treat. Athene, let your sis be while she adds on another kissing cousin."
"Yes, Lazarus. Ol' Buddy Boy!"
"Teena, if I could reach through that string of wires, I'd spank you." Lazarus added, "Go ahead, Justin."
"Uh...Minerva, I haven't kissed a girl in many years. Out of practice."
"Mr. Foote, I do not mean to embarrass you. I am simply delighted to see you again. You need not kiss me. Or if you are willing to kiss me in private, you are most welcome."
"Don't risk it, Justin," advised the computer. "I'm your friend."
"Athene!"
"I was about to add," said the Chief Archivist, "that I probably need practice in 'learning to be a human being' more than you do. If you'll put up with my rustiness, Cousin, I accept your sweet offer. Brace yourself."
Minerva smiled quickly, went into his arms, flowed up against him like a cat, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth. Ira studied a paper on his desk. Lazarus did not even pretend not to watch. He noted that Justin Foote put his heart into the matter-the old buzzard might be out of practice, but he hadn't forgotten the basics.
When they broke, the computer gave a respectful whistle. "Wheeee...ooooo! Justin, welcome to the Club."
"Yes," Ira said dryly, "a person can't be said to be officially on Tertius until he or she has been welcomed with a kiss from Minerva. Now that protocol is satisfied, sit down. Minerva, my dear, you came for some purpose?"
"Yes, sir." She settled down by Justin Foote on a couch facing Ira and Lazarus-took Justin's hand. "I was in the 'Dora' with the twins, and Dora was drilling them in astrogation, when the packet showed up in our sky and-"
"Hold it," Lazarus interrupted. "Did the brats track it?"