Roger Stone did not answer; he merely held his nose. Hazel looked amazed. ‘You didn’t like it? Why, Roger, I do believe you’re jealous. To think I would raise a son with spirit so mean that he would be envious of his own mother!’
Buster spoke up. ‘I liked it Let’s do that part over where I shoot the space pirate.’ He pointed a finger and made a zizzing noise. ‘Whee! Blood all over the bulkheads!’
‘There’s your answer, Roger. Your public. If Buster likes it, you’re in.’
‘I thought it was exciting,’ Meade put in. ‘What was wrong with it, Daddy?’
‘Yes,’ agreed Hazel belligerently. ‘Go ahead. Tell us.’
‘Very well. In the first place, spaceships do not make hundred-and eighty-degree turns.’
‘This one does!’
‘In the second place, what in blazes is this “Galactic Overlord” nonsense? When did he creep in?’
‘Oh, that! Son, your show was dying on its feet, so I gave it a transfusion.’
‘But “Galactic Overlords” — now, really! It’s not only preposterous: it’s been used over and over again.’
‘Is that bad? Next week I’m going to equip Hamlet with atomic propulsion and stir it in with The Comedy of Errors. I suppose you think Shakespeare will sue me?’
‘He will if he can stop spinning.’ Roger Stone shrugged ‘I’ll send it in. There’s no time left to do another one and the contract doesn’t say it has to be good: it just says I have to deliver it. They’ll rewrite it in New York anyway.’
His mother answered, ‘Even money says your fan mail is up twenty-five per cent on this episode.’
‘No, thank you. I don’t want you wearing yourself out writing fan mail — not at your age.’
‘What’s wrong with my age? I used to paddle you twice a week and I can still do it. Come on; put up your dukes!’
‘Too soon after breakfast.’
‘Sissy! Pick your way of dying — Marquis of Queensbury, dockside, or kill-quick.’
‘Send around your seconds; let’s do this properly. In the meantime — ‘ He turned to his sons. ‘Boys, have you any plans for today?’
Castor glanced at his brother, then said cautiously, ‘well, we were thinking of doing a little more shopping for ships.
‘I’ll go with you.’
Pollux looked up sharply. ‘You mean we get the money?’ His brother glared at him.
Their father answered, ‘No, your money stays in the bank where it belongs.’
‘Then why bother to shop?’ He got an elbow in the ribs for this remark.
‘I’m interested in seeing what the market has to offer,’ Mr Stone answered. ‘Coming, Edith?’
Dr Stone answered, ‘I trust your judgement, my dear.’
Hazel gulped more coffee and stood lip. ‘I’m coming along.’
Buster bounced down out of his chair. ‘Me, too!’
Dr. Stone stopped him. ‘No, dear. Finish your oatmeal.’
‘No! I’m going, too. Can’t I, Grandma Hazel?’
Hazel considered it. Riding herd on the child outside the pressurised city was a full-time chore; he was not old enough to be trusted to handle his vacuum-suit controls properly. On this occasion she wanted to be free to give her full attention to other matters. ‘I’m afraid not, Lowell. Tell you what, sugar, I’ll keep my phone open and we’ll play chess while I’m away.’
‘It’s no fun to play chess by telephone. I can’t tell what you are thinking.’
Hazel stared at him. ‘So that’s it? I’ve suspected it for some time. Maybe I can win a game once. No, don’t start whimpering — or I’ll take your slide rule away from you for a week.’ The child thought it over, shrugged, and his face became placid. Hazel turned to her son. ‘Do you suppose he really does hear thoughts?’
Her son looked at his least son. ‘I’m afraid to find out.’ He sighed and added, ‘Why couldn’t I have been born into a nice, normal, stupid family? Your fault, Hazel.’
‘His mother patted his arm. ‘Don’t fret, Roger. You pull down the average.’
‘Hummph! Give me that spool. I’d better shoot it off to New York before I lose my nerve.’
Hazel fetched it; Mr Stone took it to the apartment phone, punched in the code for RCA New York with the combination set for highspeed transcription relay. As he slipped the spool into its socket he added, ‘I shouldn’t do this. In addition to that “Galactic Overlord” nonsense, Hazel, you messed up the continuity by killing off four of my standard characters.’