“You’re threatening me!”
“No. Prophesying. Old Johann Sebastian Bach Smith was a seventh son of a seventh son, born under a caul; he had the gift of prophecy. No matter which way you bet, the endowment will be doubled. But only you and I will ever know what is done today.”
“Mmnm. . . there are procedures to satisfy. I do have authority to permit any adult female to receive a sperm donation if I am satisfied that she qualifies—and let’s say that I am. Nevertheless there are routines to go through, records that must be kept.”
(He’s ready to geek, Boss. So sing him a Money Hum, with a different tune.) (Eunice, a cash bribe is to push him over if he won’t fall. Let’s see if he’ll sell it to himself.)
Joan shook her head. “No records. Just do it to me and I’ll hook my veil over my face and leave.”
“But, Miss—I don’t do these things myself. A staff doctor carries out the donation procedure, assisted by a nurse. They would think it strange if no records were kept. Very.”
“No nurses. No assistants. You alone, Doctor. You are an M.D. and a specialist in genetics and eugenics. Either you can do this…or you don’t know enough to head this institution—which the trustees would regretfully notice. Besides that, I go with you and check the number on that donation . . . and stick at your elbow until you place it inside me. Do we understand each other?”
The Doctor sighed. “I once thought a general practice was hard work! We can’t be sure that a placed donation will result in impregnation.”
“If not, I’ll be back in twenty-eight and a half days. Doctor, quit stalling. Or bet on the other horse and I’ll leave. No harsh words, now or later. Just that prophecy.” She stood up. (Well, Eunice? Will the frog hop?) (Can’t guess, dear. He’s seen so many female tails he’s bored with them. I can’t figure him.)
Olsen suddenly stood up. “You’ll need a cold suit.”
“All right.”
“Plus the advantage that a cold suit covers so thoroughly that a man would not recognize his own wife in one. I have a spare here, for V.I.P.s”
“I think you could class me as a V.I.P.” Joan said dryly. Forty minutes later Dr. Olsen said, “Hold still a moment longer. I am placing a Dutch cap, a latex occlusive cervical pessary, over the donation.”
“Why, Doctor? I thought those things were for contraception.”
“Usually. And it will serve that purpose, too—mean to say, some of our clients wish to be protected at once from any possibility of impregnation from any other source. But in your case my purpose in installing this temporary barrier is to make certain that the donation does impregnate you. To give those wigglers a chance to reach target and to keep them from swimming downstream instead—follow me? Leave it in place until sometime tomorrow—or later, it doesn’t matter. Do you know how to remove it?”
“If I can’t get it out, I’ll call you.”
“If you wish. If you fail to skip your next menses, we can try again in four weeks.” Dr. Olsen lowered the knee supports, offered his hand. She stepped down and her skirt fell into place. She felt flushed and happy. (Eunice, it’s done!) (Yes, Boss! Beloved Boss.)
Dr. Olsen picked up her cloak, held it ready to lay around her shoulders. She said, “Doctor—don’t worry about the horse race.”
He barely smiled. “I have not been worrying about it. May I say why?”
“Please.”
“Urn. If you recall, I have met Johann Smith—Mister Johann Smith—on other occasions.”
“Eleven occasions, I believe, sir, including a private interview when Dr. Andrews nominated you to succeed him.”
“Yes, Miss Smith. I’ll never forget that interview. Miss, there may be some legal point to clear up concerning your identity. But not in my mind! I do not think that any young woman of your present physiological age could simulate Mr. Johann Smith’s top-sergeant manner—and make it stick.”
“Oh, dear!”
“Pardon me?”
“Dr. Olsen. this sex change I’ve undergone is not easy to handle. It is fortunate—for both of us—that you were able to spot Johann Smith behind the face I now wear. But—darn it, sir!—I’ve got to acquire manners to match what I am now. Will you call on me—oh, say three weeks from now when I hope to have cheerful news—and let me show you that I can simulate a lady when I try? Come for tea. We can discuss how the Foundation’s work can be expanded under a doubled endowment.”