“What? Mike, haven’t had a minute–and a minute may be a long time to you but it’s short to me. I’ll get at it as fast as I can.”
“Okay, Man. Have you found a not-stupid for me to talk with?”
“Haven’t had time for that, either. Uh. . .wait.” I looked out through hood at Wyoming. “Not-stupid” in this case meant empathy. . . Wyoh had plenty. Enough to be friendly with a machine? I thought so. And could be trusted; not only had we shared trouble but she was a subversive.
“Mike, would you like to talk with a girl?”
“Girls are not-stupid?”
“Some girls are very not-stupid, Mike.”
“I would like to talk with a not-stupid girl, Man.”
“I’ll try to arrange. But now I’m in trouble and need your help.”
“I will help, Man.”
“Thanks, Mike. I want to call my home–but not ordinary way. You know sometimes calls are monitored, and if Warden orders it, lock can be put on so that circuit can be traced.”
“Man, you wish me to monitor your call to your home and put a lock-and-trace on it? I must inform you that I already know your home call number and the number from which you are calling.”
“No, no! Don’t want it monitored, don’t want it locked and traced. Can you call my home, connect me, and control circuit so that it can’t be monitored, can’t be locked, can’t be traced–even if somebody has programmed just that? Can you do it so that they won’t even know their program is bypassed?”
Mike hesitated. I suppose it was a question never asked and he had to trace a few thousand possibilities to see if his control of system permitted this novel program. “Man, I can do that. I will.”
“Good! Uh, program signal. If I want this sort of connection in future, I’ll ask for ‘Sherlock.'”
“Noted. Sherlock was my brother.” Year before, I had explained to Mike how he got his name. Thereafter he read all Sherlock Holmes stories, scanning film in Luna City Carnegie Library. Don’t know how he rationalized relationship; I hesitated to ask.
“Fine! Give me a ‘Sherlock’ to my home.”
A moment later I said, “Mum? This is your favorite husband.”
She answered, “Manuel! Are you in trouble again?”
I love Mum more than any other woman including my other wives, but she never stopped bringing me up–Bog willing, she never will. I tried to sound hurt. “Me? Why, you know me, Mum.”
“I do indeed. Since you are not in trouble, perhaps you can tell me why Professor de la Paz is so anxious to get in touch with you–he has called three times–and why he wants to reach some woman with unlikely name of Wyoming Knott–and why he thinks you might be with her? Have you taken a bundling companion, Manuel, without telling me? We have freedom in our family, dear, but you know that I prefer to be told. So that I will not be taken unawares.”
Mum was always jealous of all women but her co-wives and never, never, never admitted it. I said, “Mum, Bog strike me dead, I have not taken a bundling companion.”
“Very well. You’ve always been a truthful boy, Now what’s this mystery?”
“I’ll have to ask Professor.” (Not lie, just tight squeeze.) “Did he leave number?”
“No, he said he was calling from a public phone.”
“Um. If he calls again, ask him to leave number and time I can reach him. This is public phone, too.” (Another tight squeeze.) “In meantime– You listened to late news?”
“You know I do.”
“Anything?”
“Nothing of interest.”
“No excitement in L-City? Killings, riots, anything?”
“Why, no. There was a set duel in Bottom Alley but– Manuel! Have you killed someone?”
“No, Mum.” (Breaking a man’s jaw will not kill him.)
She sighed. “You’ll be my death, dear. You know what I’ve always told you. In our family we do not brawl. Should a killing be necessary–it almost never is–matters must be discussed calmly, en famille, and proper action selected. If a new chum must be eliminated, other people know it. It is worth a little delay to hold good opinion and support–“