FOR US THE LIVING BY ROBERT A. HEINLEIN

“I don’t care.”

“Aren’t we close to the Moon Rocket Experiment Grounds?”

“Yes, it’s just east of Flagstaff. Want to see it?”

“Very much.”

He leveled off, set his course and clamped the robot. Olga lay back and dozed in the warm contentment of digestion. Perry sat and watched her and mused to himself. This was a very pleasant trip, as much fun as it would have been if Diana were along instead of Olga. Or almost. Olga was a great kid, and a lot of fun to have around. He certainly was fond of her. Not what Master Hedrick suggested of course, he wasn’t forming any attachment. He was in love with Diana and was loyal to her, whether such loyalty was customary or not. Could he have fallen in love with Olga if he had met her first? Possibly. She wasn’t as beautiful as Diana, nor as young (Perry smiled at this. Time was too scrambled for age to matter.), but she was certainly as seductive in her own way. She didn’t dress her hair nor use cosmetics with the consummate artistry of Dian’, but she was always meticulously shaven and fastidious about her person to a degree unusual even in 2086. About her character and personality there could be no question; she was tops. Yes, he decided, he could have fallen deeply in love with her—if he hadn’t met Diana first. Too bad he couldn’t have known her when he was a bachelor. Was he attractive to her? She liked him, he was sure, but Olga seemed to like a lot of people. Did he as a man arouse any response in her as a woman? He would give a lot to know. He wondered what she would do if he were to make a pass at her.

His reverie was broken by the insistent ringing of the alarm gong. The robot checked flight and hovered. He glanced out and saw a series of bright red pylons marching over the rolling plateau. Miles beyond was a group of buildings. Just below was a small landing flat and hangars. The field lights flashed the landing signal and they obeyed. They were received by a wizened weather-beaten desert rat, who showed them where to park their car and indicated with a jerk of his thumb the stairway to the trans-tube. They descended and strapped themselves in the cylinder. Olga touched a button on the remote control panel, relays clicked, and they found themselves almost at once at the field station. They emerged from the stairwell into a large room equipped with a few chairs, a televue control station and some benches. It was almost deserted. A young man was talking to a girl dressed in an asbestos coverall. The hood and visor were pushed back, disclosing a tight mass of copper ringlets. She laughed at something he said and answered in a low tone. An elderly man with a preoccupied look entered from a corridor on the right and shuffled quickly into a side room. No one else was in sight. Olga and Perry stood uncertainly for a moment, then Perry advanced, touched the young man on the arm, and spoke.

“Excuse me.”

The young man started, and turned around. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you. May I do you a service?”

“Service,” answered Perry. “We’d like to look around, if it’s permitted.”

“Certainly. Glad to have you. You’ll need a guide though. Joe!”

A blond head appeared from behind the back of a couch, a strapping form followed it. “Yeah?”

“A couple of visitors ‘ud like to take a gander around the plant. I’ve got to handle the controls for Vivian on this test run. Can you do it?”

“I guess so.” The youth chucked a magazine into a chair and joined them, long arm and hand outstretched.

Perry thanked him. “Sure this won’t put you out?”

“Not at all. Glad to have a little excitement. It’s pretty dull around here. Come along. What would you like to see first? The rockets? Most everybody does.” He led them into a huge gloomy shed. Dominating the interior was a great sleek metal behemoth that towered over their heads. Perry whistled.