“Mr. Barnes, you have my out-migration proposal in front of you. It has been prepared with great care by my attorney. It might save time to glance through it.”
“All in good time. You would be surprised at how many people come in here without having the slightest idea of what they are up against. They seem to assume that the Commission is anxious to have them. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Nineteen out of twenty who sit down in that chair I do not permit to go on through the processing door. I make it a practice to get rid of the more obvious time-wasters quickly. Uh, Salomon, Eunice.’ Mrs. Salomon, I want to know first—Mrs. ‘Salomon’?”
‘Mrs. Jacob Moshe Salomon,’ maiden name ‘Joan Eunice Smith.’”
“Your face did look somewhat familiar but your features, uh—”
“—are chubby now. Yes. I’ve gained twenty-six pounds—which Dr. Garcia finds satisfactory for my height, build, and date of impregnation.”
“That brings up other problems. A woman is often mistaken as to the date—and first babies are notoriously in a hurry to arrive. Our Lunar transports aren’t planned for new infants, nor for childbirth. I want you to realize the hazards.”
“I know them. Need we go into this?”
“I must be the judge of that.”
“Mr. Barnes, my doctor is satisfied that I know the exact date of impregnation and— Is all of this confo?”
“Mmm. I’ll put it this way. None of it is privileged. I am a lawyer but not your lawyer. I hear more intimate details from applicants than you can imagine but I haven’t time to waste on gossip.”
“I am glad to hear that, Mr. Barnes…as l would be much displeased if what I am about to tell you were to become a matter of gossip.”
“Hmmph. I think I felt a chill breeze. Are you trying to impress me with your importance? Don’t bother; applicants are all the same size once they come in here. Your money doesn’t mean a thing.”
“Was my manner unfriendly? I’m sorry.”
“Well— Let’s stick to the business at hand. A lawyer in the Lunar Commission’s Civil Service—a job with no squeeze, believe me—doesn’t often find himself dealing with rich people. But it makes no difference; if you don’t want to be frank with the Commission, that’s your problem. But I won’t approve an applicant’s proposal until I am satisfied about it. All about it. Now you implied that you had something pertinent to tell me which you class as ‘confo.’ I don’t accept your restriction, Now…do you talk? Or shall we terminate this interview?”
“You leave me no option, sir. This is not a first baby I am carrying, so no ‘first baby’ hazard exits. If the ‘Goddard’ lifts on schedule, I have every reason to expect to have my baby on the Moon. Dr. Garcia is not worried about the timing and neither am I.”
“So? This brings up other problems. This earlier child—does he, or she, affect your estate?”
“No. That is why this must be treated as confo. I did not have that earlier baby.”
“Eh? You lost me. Better clarify that.”
“Please, Mr. Barnes. I am a sex-change and a brain transplant. Surely you know it—good heavens, the whole world knows it. The first baby this body gave birth to was before that time. It is the reputation of my donor I wish to protect, not mine. The child was illegitimate, and common as that is these days—no longer a legal concept m most states and the very word almost obsolete—so great is my gratitude to the sweet and gracious lady who formerly lived in this body, I would be most unhappy were I to be the cause of any tarnish on her memory.”
(Boss, you know I don’t give a kark.) (Let her handle it, Eunice; this petty bureaucrat can gum up the works if Joan does not divert him just so. Are we kibitzing Joan?—or are we going to the Moon?) (Hell, yes, we’re going to the Moon! My ‘Yes’ vote, plus your ‘Yes’ vote, plus half of Joan’s vote—a natural fence-straddler she is, legs always open—which works out to a five-to-one majority for out-migrating. A landslide!) (So let her alone while she handles him.) (If she didn’t have that big belly, she could handle him a lot better. And faster.)