him and ran, and jumped out an open window. Ground floor, yes-but I did not stop to
find out.
Pixel caught up with me in about fifty yards, then slowed me somewhat as he
criss-crossed ahead of me. He went into that big park and I slowed down to a walk. I
was still wearing the cape but I had lost one slipper going out the window, then had
kicked the other off at once, being unable to run one shoe off, one shoe on. It did
not matter as I had gone barefooted so habitually in Boondock that my feet were as
tough as shoe leather.
I wandered around the park for a while, watching the action (amazing!) and wondering
where I could go. I did not want to risk the Mayor’s palace again; my pompous
boyfriend with the fancy vestment might still be there. I did not know where the
Ridpaths lived even though I had been there. It seemed to me that I must wait for
dawn, then locate Grand Hotel Augustas (should be easy), go to Dr Eric’s office on
the mezzanine, and hit him for a small loan. Hobson’s choice, no other option – but
not too unlikely as he had brailled me quite thoroughly during dinner. He wasn’t
being rude; similar things or more so were going on all around the table. And I had
been warned.
I joined in briefly at the esbat – midnight, full moon overhead, and ritual prayers
being said in Latin, Greek, Old Norse (I think), and three other languages. One
woman was a snake goddess from ancient Crete. Authentic? I don’t know. Pixel rode my
shoulder at the service as if he were used to the role of witch’s familiar.
As I left the altar, he jumped down and ran ahead of me as usual.
I heard a shout. ‘There’s her cat! And there she is! Grab her’
And they did.
As I’ve said, I don’t like rape. I especially dislike it when four men hold me while
a fat slob in an embroidered cope does things to my body. So I bit him. And
discussed his ancestry and personal habits.
So I wound up in the hoosegow and stayed there until the crazies from the Committee
for Aesthetic Deletions pulled a jail-break and got me loose.
This is called `Out of the frying-pan and into the fire.’
Last night the Committee was presided over by Count Dracula, the only case of
type-casting that I saw – this repulsively handsome creature not only wore the opera
cloak associated with video vampires, he had also taken the trouble to have a
mouthpiece fashioned for him by a prosthodontist; he had dog teeth that came down
Page 251
Heinlein, Robert A – To Sail Beyond the Sunset.txt
over his lower lip. At least I assume that they were artificial; I don’t really
believe that any humans or quasi-human have teeth like that.
I joined the circle and took the one remaining chair. `Good evening, cousins. And
good evening to you, Count. Where is the Old Man of the Mountain tonight?’
`That is not a question one asks.’
‘Well, excuse me, please! And pray, why not?’
`We will leave that to you as an exercise in deduction. But don’t ask such a
question again. And do not be late again. You are the subject of our discussion
tonight, Lady Macbeth -‘
`Maureen Johnson, if you please.’
`It does not please me. It is one more instance of your unwillingness to observe the
rules necessary to the safety of the Dead Men. Yesterday you were observed
exchanging words with one of the hotel staff, a chambermaid. What were you talking
about?’
I stood up. ‘Count Dracula.’
`Yes, Lady Macbeth?’
‘You can go to hell. And I’m going to bed.’
‘Sit down!’
I did not. But all those near me grabbed at me, and sat me down. I don’t think any
three could have managed it; they all were ill, deathly ill. But seven were too much
for me – and I was reluctant to be rough in resisting them.
The chairman went on, ‘Milady Macbeth, you have been with us over two weeks now.