I WILL FEAR NO EVIL by Robert A. Heinlein

“1 didn’t think any part of that ever showed.”

“Please, Jacob. Do you recall that you once told Eunice that you could hire a man to photograph her in her own bath—and she would never know it? As we’ve noted, money can do almost anything that is physically possible. Part of that snoop report was a photograph of you and Marian in what you lawyers call a ‘compromising position.’

“Good God! What did you do with it?”

“Burned it. Hated to; it was a good picture and Marian looked awfully pretty—and you looked all right yourself, you lovable old goat. Then I sent for the head of the snoop firm and told him I wanted the negative and all prints now and no nonsense—and if it ever turned out that even one print had escaped me, I would break him. Get his license, bankrupt him, put him in jail. Were you or Marian ever embarrassed by such a picture? Blackmail, or anything?”

“No. Not me—and I’m morally certain she wasn’t, either.”

“I guess he believed me. Jacob, do you still think I was twitting you about Gigi? Or was I congratulating you?”

“Uh . . . maybe neither. Maybe trying to wring a confession out of me. It’s no go, wench.”

“Please, Jacob. Stipulating that I was mistaken but sincere—which was it? Now that you know how I behaved about Marian.”

“Eunice—Johann! You should have been a lawyer. Subject to that stipulation, I concede that it must have been a sincere congratulation. But one I can’t accept, I haven’t earned it. Now, damn it, tell me how you came by this delusion.”

“Yes, dear. But not this minute; there comes Gigi herself.” Joan put her sextant back into its box. “Sights will have to wait anyhow; this reach has taken us in so close I’ve lost my horizon for the Sun. Hi, Gigi, you pretty, pretty thing! Give us a kiss. Just me, Jake is on watch;”

“I’m not all that busy. Eunice, hold the wheel.” He accepted a kiss while still seated, then took the helm back from his wife.

Joan said, “Been swimming, dear?”

“Uh, yes. Joan Eunice, could I see you a minute? Mr. Salomon, would you excuse us?”

“Not by that moniker I won’t; you’ll have to call me ‘Jake.’

“Stuff it, dear,” his wife said cheerfully. “She wants a hen conference. Come along, dear. Captain, try to keep us afloat.”

They found a spot in the lee of the lifeboat. “Got troubles, dear?” (Eunice, are we about to have a beef over Jake? Surely not!) (Can’t be, twin. That affair started over two weeks ago . . . and both Gigi and Joe were relaxed about it from scratch. Which means just what we thought: It actually is a return engagement—and Jake lied to protect a lady’s reputation. Predictable.)

“Well, sort of,” admitted Mrs. Branca. “Uh, might as well say it bang. Next time you anchor and send a boat in

Joe and I want off.”

“Oh, dear! What’s wrong, Gigi? I did so hope you would stay at least the month we talked about—then as much longer as you wished.”

“Well . . . we did expect to. But I got this seasickness problem and Joe—well, he has done some painting but… the light’s not right; it’s too bright and. . .“ She trailed off. (Twin, those are excuses.) (Jake?) (Can’t be, I tell you. You’ve got to make her come clean.)

“Gigi.”

“Yes, Joan?”

“Look at me. You haven’t missed a meal since Roberto put you on the seasick pill. If Joe prefers floodlights to sunlight, we’ll clear out the dining saloon and it can be his studio. Put your arms around me and tell me what’s really wrong.”

“Uh—Joan, the ocean’s just too darn big!” Gigi blinked tears and said, “I guess you think I’m a baby.”

“No. It’s big. Biggest ocean in the world. Some people don’t like oceans. I do. That doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Well, I thought I would like it. I mean, you hear about it. What a wonderful thing it is to make an ocean trip. But it scares me. Uh, it scares Joe, too; he just doesn’t say so. Joan Eunice, you’ve been awful good to us—but this isn’t our scene. Joe and I, we aren’t fish—we’re alley cats. Always lived in cities. It’s too quiet here. Especially at night. At night the quiet is so loud it wakes me up.”

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