defence wardens tried to stop them and question them. I don’t think the girls hurt
anyone very badly. But they didn’t stop.
They came pouring in, Maid Marians with long bows (disguised particle projectors),
dressed for Sherwood Forest, led by Friar Tuck complete with tonsure, and followed
by Gretchen, dressed also for a Robin Hood pageant and wearing a big grin.
She paused to slap Dagmar on her fanny as she passed Father’s table, nodded at the
Pratts, who were already stupefied by the procession of recovered patients going the
other way. She stopped at Woodrow’s table. `We did it!’
All three tables were bare at that moment; we had reached that wonderful point where
no more wounded were waiting. Jubal came in from the anteroom, said, `You did
indeed.’
Gretchen hugged me. `Maureen, we did it!’ She pulled my mask down and kissed me.
I bussed her back. `Now get your tail through that gate. We’re on minus minutes.’
`Spoilsport.’ She went on through, followed by Jubal and Gillian.
`All Clear’ started sounding. Mr Pratt looked at me, looked at the curtain, said,
`Come, Harry.’
`Yes, Pa.,
‘Goodnight, all.’ The old man plodded wearily away, followed by his wife.
Father said in a gruff voice, ‘Daughter, why are you here? You should be in San
Francisco.’ He looked at Woodrow. ‘You, too, Ted. You’re dead. So what are you doing
here?’
`Not dead, Dr Johnson. “Missing in action” is not the same as dead. The difference
was slight but important. A long time in hospital, a long time out of my head. But
here I am.’
`Mmrrph. So you are. But what is this charade? People in costumes. Other people
trotting back and forth like Picadilly Circus. Hell of a way to run an aid station.
Am I out of my head? Did we take a direct hit?’
Hazel said in my ear, `Come through, all of you! Now!’
I subvocalised, `Right away, Hazel.’ Dagmar had-moved until she was behind my
father. She had her injector ready; she queried me with her eyes. I shook my head a
quarter of an inch. ‘Father, will you come with me and let me explain?’
‘Mrph. I suppose -‘
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Heinlein, Robert A – To Sail Beyond the Sunset.txt
The roof fell in.
It may have been part of a Spitfire, or perhaps a Messerschmidt. I don’t know; I was
under it. Gwen Hazel heard it through my mike; her grandsons Cas and Pol got
themselves badly burned going back through to rescue us.
Everybody got burned – Castor, Pollux, Woodrow, Father, Dagmar, me – and gasoline
bums are nasty. But Hazel got more help through, dressed in fireproofs (planning,
not ha instance) and we were all dragged out.
All of this I got from later reports; at the time I was simply clobbered and then I
woke up in hospital an unmeasured time later. Unmeasured by me, that is; Dagmar says
that I was laid up three weeks longer than she was. Tamara won’t tell me. It does
not matter; Lethe keeps one comfortable and unworried as long as necessary to let
one get well.
After a while I was allowed to get up and take walks around Beulahland, a beautiful
place and one of the few truly civilised places in any world. And then I was
transferred back to Boondock… and Woodrow and Father and Dagmar came to call on
me.
They all leaned over my bed and kissed me and I cried a while and then we talked.
It was a big wedding. There was Mycroft and Athene and Minerva of course, and my
grandson Richard Colin, who had at last forgiven Lazarus (for being his father). My
darling Gwen Hazel had no reason to remain on leave from the family when Richard
Colin was willing and eager to join. My daughters Laz and Lor had decided to cancel
the indentures of their husbands, Cas and Pol, in recognition of their heroism in
diving back into the fire for us four laggards – and to allow them to marry into the
family. And there was Xia and Dagmar and Choy-Mu and Father and Gretchen – and the
rest of us who had been Longs for years – some more years, some less. Our new family