Heinlein, Robert A – Friday

“Meanwhile I cope. The children each have one nonvoting share and a child never does vote his share because it is paid to him or her in cash on leaving home, as dowry or as starting capital-or wasted although I like to think not. Such reductions in capital must be planned; were three of our girls to marry in the same year the situation could be embarrassing if not anticipated.”

I told her that it sounded like a very sensible and warm arrangement as I didn’t think that most children were so carefully provided for. (In fact I didn’t know anything at all about such things.)

“We try to do right by them,” she agreed. “After all, children are the purpose of a family. So I’m sure that you will see that an adult joining our group must buy a share, or the system won’t work. Marriages are arranged in heaven but the bills must be paid here on earth.”

“Amen.” (I could see that my problems were solved for me. Negatively. I could not estimate the wealth of the Davidson Group Family. Wealthy, that was certain, even though they lived with no servants in an old-fashioned unautomated house. Whatever it was, I could not buy a share.)

“Douglas told us that he had no idea whether you had money or not. Money in capital amounts, I mean.”

“I don’t.”

She never dropped a stitch. “Nor did I when I was your age. You are employed, are you not? Couldn’t you work in Christchurch and buy your share out of your salary? I know that finding work can be a problem in a strange city . . . but I am not without connections. What do you do? You’ve never told us.”

(And I’m not about to!) After evading her and then telling her bluntly that my work was confidential and I refused to discuss any aspect of my employer’s business but, no, I couldn’t leave and look for work in Christchurch, so there wasn’t any way it could work but it had certainly been wonderful while it had lasted and I hoped- She chopped me off, “My dear, I was not empowered to negotiate this contract for the purpose of failing. Why it can’t be done is not acceptable; I must discover how it can be done. Brian has offered to give you one of his three shares . . . and Douglas and Albert are backing him, pro rata, although they can’t pay him at once. But I vetoed the whole scheme; it is a bad precedent and I told them so, using a crude old country expression about rams in the spring. Instead I am accepting one of Brian’s shares as security against your performance of your contract.”

“But I don’t have a contract!”

“You will have. If you continue your present employment, how much can you pay per month? Don’t pinch yourself but do pay off as quickly as possible as it works just like an amortized real-estate purchase: Part of each payment services the remaining debt, part reduces that debt-so the larger the payment the better, for you.”

(I had never bought any real estate.) “Can we figure that in gold? I can convert into any money, of course, but I get paid in gold.”

“In gold?” Anita suddenly looked alert. She reached into her knitting bag and pulled out a portable relay to her computer terminal. “I can offer you a better deal for gold.” She punched for a while, waited, and nodded. “Considerably better. Although I’m not really set up to handle bullion. But arrangements can be made.”

“I said I can convert. The drafts are for grams, three nines fine, drawn on Ceres and South Africa Acceptances, Limited, Luna City. But it can be paid in New Zealand money, right here, by automatic bank deposit even when I’m not on Earth at the time. Bank of New Zealand, Christchurch office?”

“Uh, Canterbury Land Bank. I’m a director there.”

“By all means keep it in the family.”

The next day we signed the contract and later that week they married me, all legal and proper, in a side chapel of the cathedral, with me in white, fer Gossake.