“Heavenly!”
“I think so too, but we’ll be lucky, this hour in this hole, to get algae soup and burgers. What do you drink?”
“Anything. Ethanol.”
“Okay.” I went to lift, punched for service. “Menu, please.” It displayed and I settled for prime rib plus rest, and two orders of apfelstrudel with whipped cream. I added a half liter of table vodka and ice and starred that part.
“Is there time for me to take a bath? Would you mind?”
“Go ahead, Wye. You’ll smell better.”
“Louse. Twelve hours in a p-suit and you’d stink, too–the bus was dreadful. I’ll hurry.”
“Half a sec, Wye. Does that stuff wash off? You may need it when you leave. . . whenever you do, wherever you go.”
“Yes, it does. But you bought three times as much as I used. I’m sorry, Mannie; I plan to carry makeup on political trips–things can happen. Like tonight, though tonight was worst. But I ran short of seconds and missed a capsule and almost missed the bus.”
“So go scrub.”
“Yes, sir, Captain. Uh, I don’t need help to scrub my back but I’ll leave the door up so we can talk. Just for company, no invitation implied.”
“Suit yourself. I’ve seen a woman.”
“What a thrill that must have been for her.” She grinned and fisted me another in ribs–hard–went in and started tub. “Mannie, would you like to bathe in it first? Secondhand water is good enough for this makeup and that stink you complained about.”
“Unmetered water, dear. Run it deep.”
“Oh, what luxury! At home I use the same bath water three days running.” She whistled softly and happily. “Are you wealthy, Mannie?”
“Not wealthy, not weeping.”
Lift jingled; I answered, fixed basic martinis, vodka over ice, handed hers in, got out and sat down, out of sight–nor had I seen sights; she was shoulder deep in happy suds. “Pawlnoi Zheezni!” I called.
“A full life to you, too, Mannie. Just the medicine I needed.” After pause for medicine she went on, “Mannie, you’re married. Ja?”
“Da. It shows?”
“Quite. You’re nice to a woman but not eager and quite independent. So you’re married and long married. Children?”
“Seventeen divided by four.”
“Clan marriage?”
“Line. Opted at fourteen and I’m fifth of nine. So seventeen kids is nominal. Big family.”
“It must be nice. I’ve never seen much of line families, not many in Hong Kong. Plenty of clans and groups and lots of polyandries but the line way never took hold.”
“Is nice. Our marriage nearly a hundred years old. Dates back to Johnson City and first transportees–twenty-one links, nine alive today, never a divorce. Oh, it’s a madhouse when our descendants and inlaws and kinfolk get together for birthday or wedding–more kids than seventeen, of course; we don’t count ’em after they marry or I’d have ‘children’ old enough to be my grandfather. Happy way to live, never much pressure. Take me. Nobody woofs if I stay away a week and don’t phone. Welcome when I show up. Line marriages rarely have divorces. How could I do better?”
“I don’t think you could. Is it an alternation? And what’s the spacing?”
“Spacing has no rule, just what suits us. Been alternation up to latest link, last year. We married a girl when alternation called for boy. But was special.”
“Special how?”
“My youngest wife is a granddaughter of eldest husband and wife. At least she’s granddaughter of Mum–senior is ‘Mum’ or sometimes Mimi to her husbands–and she may be of Grandpaw–but not related to other spouses. So no reason not to marry back in, not even consanguinuity okay in other types of marriage. None, nit, zero. And Ludmilla grew up in our family because her mother had her solo, then moved to Novylen and left her with us.
“Milla didn’t want to talk about marrying out when old enough for us to think about it. She cried and asked us please to make an exception. So we did. Grandpaw doesn’t figure in genetic angle–these days his interest in women is more gallant than practical. As senior husband he spent our wedding night with her–but consummation was only formal. Number-two husband, Greg, took care of it later and everybody pretended. And everybody happy. Ludmilla is a sweet little thing, just fifteen and pregnant first time.”