Heinlein, Robert A – Friday

million dollars, reckoned in gold. How did you do it, dear? You didn’t even wiggle. Not even a sultry tone of voice.”

“But, Georges, you caused them to issue me their band.”

“I don’t think so. Oh, I did try to back your play . . . but you initiated each move.”

“Not the one about that horrid questionnaire! You got me out of that.”

“Oh. That silly ass had no business quizzing you. His boss had already ordered him to issue the card.”

“You saved me. I was about to lose my nerve. Georges-dear Georges!-I know that you have told me that I must not be uneasy about what I am-and I’m trying, I truly am!-but to be faced with a form that demands to know all about my parents and grandparents-it’s dismaying!”

“Can’t expect you to get well overnight. We’ll keep working on it. You certainly did not lose your nerve oven how much credit to ask.”

“Oh. I once heard someone say”-it was Boss-“that it was much easier to borrow a million than it was to borrow ten. So when they asked me, that’s what I named. Not quite a million BritCan dollars. Nine hundred and sixty-four thousand, about.”

“I’m not going to quibble. When we passed nine hundred thousand I ran out of oxygen. Adequate one, do you know what a professor is paid?”

“Does it matter? From what I know of the profession one successful new design of a living artifact can pay in the millions. Even millions of grams, rather than dollars. Haven’t you had any successful designs? Or is that a rude question?”

“Let’s change the subject. Where are we sleeping tonight?”

“We could be in San Diego in forty minutes. On in Las Vegas in thirty-five. Each has advantages and disadvantages for getting into the Impenium. Georges, now that I have enough money, I’m going to report in, no matter how many fanatics are assassinating officials. But I promise cross-my-heart to visit Winnipeg just as soon as I have a few days’ leave.”

“I may still be unable to return to Winnipeg.”

“Or I’ll come visit you in Montréal. Look, dear, we’ll swap all the

addresses we have; I’m not going to lose you. You not only assure me that I’m human, you tell me that I’m adequate-you’re good for my morale. Now choose, for I’ll take either one: San Diego and talk Spanglish, or Vegas and look at pretty naked ladies.”

XVII

We did both and wound up in Vicksburg.

The Texas-Chicago border turned out to be closed from both sides all the way, so I decided to try the riven route first. Of course Vicksburg is still Texas but, for my purpose, its situation as the major river port just outside the Imperium was the point that counted-especially that it was the leading smugglers’ port, both directions.

Like ancient Gaul, Vicksburg is divided into three parts. There is the low town, the port, right on the water and sometimes flooded, and there is the high town sitting on a bluff a hundred meters high and itself divided into old town and new town. Old town is surrounded by battlefields of a war long forgotten (but not by Vicksburg!). These battlefields are sacred; nothing may be built on them. So the new town is outside this holy ground, and functions through being tied to old town and to itself by a system of tunnels and tubes. High town is joined to low town by escalators and funiculars to the city barricade.

To me, high town was just a place to sleep. We punched into the Vicksbung Hilton (twin to the Bellingham Hilton even to The Breakfast Ban in the basement) but my business was down on the riven. It was a happy-sad time as Georges knew that I would not let him come any farther with me and we had quit discussing it. Indeed, I did not permit him to go with me to iow town-and had

warned him that any day I might not come back, might not even stop to punch a message to him to record in our hotel suite. When the moment came to jump, I would jump.