“Goodnight, Man. Sleep well. Wyoh, are you sleepy?”
“No, Mike, I had a nap. But, Mannie, we’ll keep you awake. No?”
“No. When I’m sleepy, I sleep.” Started making couch into bed.
Wyoh said, “Excuse me, Mike,” got up, took sheet out of my hands. “I’ll make it up later. You doss over there, tovarishch; you’re bigger than I am. Sprawl out.”
Was too tired to argue, sprawled out, asleep at once. Seem to remember hearing in sleep giggles and a shriek but never woke enough to be certain.
Woke up later and came fully awake when I realized was hearing two fem voices, one Wyoh’s warm contralto, other a sweet, high soprano with French accent. Wyoh chuckled at something and answered, “All right, Michelle dear, I’ll call you soon. ‘Night, darling.”
“Fine. Goodnight, dear.”
Wyoh stood up, turned around. “Who’s your girl friend?” I asked. Thought she knew no one in Luna City. Might have phoned Hong Kong . . . had sleep-logged feeling was some reason she shouldn’t phone.
“That? Why, Mike, of course. We didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What?”
“Oh. It was actually Michelle. I discussed it with Mike, what sex he was, I mean. He decided that he could be either one. So now she’s Michelle and that was her voice. Got it right the first time, too; her voice never cracked once.”
“Of course not; just shifted voder a couple of octaves. What are you trying to do: split his personality?”
“It’s not just pitch; when she’s Michelle its an entire change in manner and attitude. Don’t worry about splitting her personality; she has plenty for any personality she needs. Besides, Mannie, it’s much easier for both of us. Once she shifted, we took our hair down and cuddled up and talked girl talk as if we had known each other forever. For example, those silly pictures no longer embarrassed me–in fact we discussed my pregnancies quite a lot. Michelle was terribly interested. She knows all about O.B. and G.Y. and so forth but just theory–and she appreciated the raw facts. Actually, Mannie, Michelle is much more a woman than Mike was a man.”
“Well. . . suppose it’s okay. Going to be a shock to me first time I call Mike and a woman answers.”
“Oh, but she won’t!”
“Huh?”
“Michelle is my friend. When you call, you’ll get Mike. She gave me a number to keep it straight–‘Michelle’ spelled with a Y. M Y, C, H, E, L, L, E, and Y, Y, Y make it come out ten.”
I felt vaguely jealous while realizing it was silly. Suddenly Wyoh giggled. “And she told me a string of new jokes, ones you wouldn’t think were funny–and, boy, does she know rough ones!”
“Mike–or his sister Michelle–is a low creature. Let’s make up couch. I’ll switch.”
“Stay where you are. Shut up. Turn over. Go back to sleep.” I shut up, turned over, went back to sleep.
Sometime much later I became aware of “married” feeling–something warm snuggled up to my back. Would not have wakened but she was sobbing softly. I turned and got her head on my arm, did not speak. She stopped sobbing; presently breathing became slow and even. I went back to sleep.
5
We must have slept like dead for next thing I knew phone was sounding and its light was blinking. I called for room lights, started to get up, found a load on right upper arm, dumped it gently, climbed over, answered.
Mike said, “Good morning, Man. Professor de la Paz is talking to your home number.”
“Can you switch it here? As a ‘Sherlock’?”
“Certainly, Man.”
“Don’t interrupt call. Cut him in as he switches off. Where is he?”
“A public phone in a taproom called The Iceman’s Wife underneath the–”
“I know. Mike, when you switch me in, can you stay in circuit? Want you to monitor.”
“It shall be done.”
“Can you tell if anyone is in earshot? Hear breathing?”
“I infer from the anechoic quality of his voice that he is speaking under a hush hood. But I infer also that, in a taproom, others would be present. Do you wish to hear, Man?”