I turned to the closet and nearly tripped over my majordomo. She was kneeling, still naked, at my feet. And still sobbing.
I guess I’m a born sucker, because I softened up quite a bit.
“Hey, take it easy, kid.” I touched her shoulder and she looked up.
“I’m sorry, sir. I should have known that you wouldn’t have wanted a child by me.”
I lifted her to her feet. She looked so tiny.
“Easy, Barb, easy. It’ll be okay.” Hell. Probably time I got married, anyway.
“I’ll kill him if you want me to.”
“Huh? Kill who?”
“Our son. I’ll have him aborted,” Barb said.
“Oh, no need for anything like that.”
Shit. I probably wouldn’t ever find a woman brighter or more attractive. There likely wasn’t one, anywhere.
“I can keep him?” I never saw a woman change so quick. She was smiling before the last tear hit the ground. And I swear it wasn’t phony.
“Sure, Barb, sure. You just sort of took me by surprise. We’ll work something out.”
She was pure joy again.
“Look, we’ll talk about it at breakfast,” I said. “For now, just point me toward the bathroom.”
There were two new women in the bathroom. Tammy and somebody else. One to suds me down and the other to dry me off. I think Tammy was planning to brush my teeth before I took the toothbrush away from her. They were both nude and both used any excuse to touch me or brush their bodies up against me.
Actually, it was kind of annoying. I mean, here I was, trying to think seriously about the possibility of marriage, and there they were, trying to get me involved in adultery before I’d proposed matrimony in the first place!
Just where did Hasenpfeffer find these chicks? They were all knockouts! Playmate quality and above! And what did he do? Brainwash them? Even the very, very rich couldn’t live like this without people finding out.
Anyway, it got my mind off Barb. Just as well, because when I was led to the breakfast room—passed more scantily clad women in the halls—was the whole staff female?—Ian was already there working on a stack of pancakes.
“Ian, about all these women . . .”
“You too?” He sounded downright hostile.
Hasenpfeffer walked in. He looked haggard.
“Uh, me three, from the looks of it.” I said.
“Gentlemen, I think that a conference is in order.” Hasenpfeffer made hand signals to a waitress wearing the shortest skirt and the lowest top I’d ever seen this side of a go-go bar. She understood that she was to bring us more of everything that Ian was eating.
“Yeah. And you broads clear out of here,” Ian grumbled.
“Right after bringing us our breakfast and coffee.” Hasenpfeffer smiled.
Service was quick and the women evaporated.
“Now, you are probably curious why we have, collectively, some four hundred attractive and eager women running around us.”
“Talk about an understatement,” I said.
“Yeah. I’m no prude, Jim, but this time you’ve gone way too damn far.”
“Gentlemen, in the first place, I refuse to take full credit”—looking at me—”or blame”—looking at Ian—”for our present situation. This city, indeed this country is the result of something that we all will do. No. That’s not right, it’s already here. ‘Have done’? Absurd. ‘Will did?’ I think that might correct, but it certainly sounds strange. You know, we will have to modify the English tense structure to accommodate both the subjective and the objective aspects of time travel. Perhaps if we adopted the convention of—”
“Cut the damned English lesson!” Ian shouted. “I was raped last night!”
“Ian, it is physiologically impossible for a woman to rape a male Homo Sapiens. You must have been at least subconsciously eager for the liaison in order—”
“Cut it!”
“Well, whatever else these women are, they are at least extremely obedient. I believe that if you gave direct orders as to how you want your household to behave, you would be obeyed.”
“Bet?”
“Stop being childish. You do not look physically damaged, and I’m sure your libido had a marvelous time. Now then. As to how we will managed all this, the answer is that I do not know, but I do have a hypothesis. Consider that none of our household staffs have had any experience as domestic servants. They are all very bright and well educated, but not as servants. Consider my people at Hasenpfeffer Investments. Because of distractions, I did not realize it until last night, but every one of my employees there—and there are over two hundred of them—is intelligent, hard working, physically fit, competent, honest, and attractive. I never had to terminate a single one of them. And yet I hired all of them by placing a few newspaper ads.”
“Back up a bit,” I said. “What distractions?”
“In the first place, I did not have any experience in running a large organization, so I had nothing to compare the staff’s level of competence with. As to attractiveness, well, my first employee was Angela Haskins. She was simply the first person to answer my advertisement and I hired her. We were soon involved in an affair of such intensity that I really did not notice any other women.”
“So, go on with your hypothesis.”
“Have you noticed that all of the people here at Morrow and at Hasenpfeffer Investments speak perfect Midwest Standard English, the language of Walter Cronkite. That alone should have tipped me off months ago. Consider that they adamantly refuse to say anything about their origins. And consider that their value systems are not American.”
“You mean the Russians, or . . .” Ian said.
“No. They would not and could not be behind it. One Mata Hari, perhaps. But four hundred of them? I doubt if there are four hundred women in the world who could approach our staffs on attractiveness alone, not to mention intelligence.”
“You mean . . .” Ian was gesturing upwards with his thumb.
“Extraterrestrials? Possible, but improbable. What would be their motivation? From what you gentlemen tell me, time travel is relatively simple from a mechanical and electronic standpoint. Any race that had star travel would certainly have time travel. Why would they want to steal the idea from us?” Hasenpfeffer said.
“But, if they already had it, and wanted to stop us . . .” I said.
“Had they wished us ill, they could have quite easily stopped us with three small caliber bullets. After all, they found us with no difficulty. No. The conclusion is inescapable. These people are superior human beings, obviously the result of a culture that places considerable emphasis on eugenics. The men are eager to help us and the women are anxious to conserve our genes. I suggest that they are the results of a culture that we ourselves will create.”
We were all quiet for a while. Then some of it seeped in.
“So, the women are out for breeding?” I said.
“Certainly. You are one of their founding fathers, one of their great patriarchs. If their culture places a high value on finding the best possible father for one’s children, you would be a perfect catch.”
So much for marital bliss.
“So you didn’t let your affair with the angel upset your stud work last night,” Ian said.
“Not once I had deduced their cultural parameters. Actually, I indulged in one of my teenage fantasies and took four of them to bed at once. Not that I recommend the practice, or intend to repeat it myself. It was a classic example of one trial extinction. What I do recommend is that you spread yourselves as evenly as possible among your household staffs. Tell your majordomos to set up an optimal breeding program, and I’m sure they’ll oblige. Mine did.”
“But, what about love and affection and . . .” I said.
“I am sure that they will be as affectionate as you want them to be. But as for lovers and life partners— Did you take a good look at the men in that reception line? They made the three of us look like diseased Neanderthals. No. I expect that everyone on our staffs has a lover or husband or boyfriend or whatever they do here. They merely want our genes, and I think that we should oblige them.”
“Fuck ’em,” Ian said.
“That is precisely what I am encouraging you to do.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rebellion
A woman in an abbreviated French maid’s outfit (a frilly see-through apron, a black microskirt, high heels, mesh stockings and very long legs) announced that Mayor Jenkins had arrived to escort us on our tour of the city.
My watch said 9:00:01. “Well, tell him to wait. I’m having breakfast.”
The maid nodded, started to leave and stopped abruptly when Ian added, “Better still, tell him to wait at his office. We’ll call him if we need him. Later.”
“Yeah, much later,” I said.