“Oh dear!”
Dr. Ftaeml took his cape off and hung it around Mr. Kiku’s narrow shoulders. “My friend. . . my brother. I am sorry.”
“No, no, you will be cold.”
“Not I.”
“Let us share it, then.”
“I am honored,” the medusoid answered softly, his tendrils twitching with emotion. He spread it around them and they huddled together while Lummox finished her peroration. Betty turned to Johnnie.
“That’s more than you ever did for me.”
“Now, Slugger, you know you’re never cold.”
“Well, put your arm around me at least.”
“Huh? In front of everybody? Go snuggle up to Lummox.”
While speaking Lummox had stayed reared up. As the oration progressed the assembled Hroshii sank down, retracting their legs until they were all in the humble position of the commander. At last it was over and Lummox added one sharp remark. The Hroshii stirred and began to move. “She says,” translated Ftaeml, “that she now wishes to be alone with her friends.”
“Ask her;” directed Kiku, “please to assure her friend John Thomas that all she has said is true and binding.”
“Very well.” As the other Hroshii hurried away Ftaeml spoke briefly to Lummox.
Lummox listened, then turned to John Thomas. Out of the great mouth came the piping, little-girl voice. “That’s right, Johnnie. Cross my heart.”
John Thomas nodded solemn agreement. “Don’t worry, Mr. Kiku. You can depend on it.”
XVII. Ninety-Seven Pickle Dishes
“Send her in.”
Mr. Kiku composed himself nervously, giving the tea tray one last glance, making sure that the intimate little conference room was all that he wished of it. While he was thus fussing a door dilated and Betty Sorenson walked in, said sweetly, ‘Hello, Mr. Kiku,” and seated herself with composure.
He said, “How do you do, Miss Sorenson?”
“Call me Betty. My friends all do.”
“Thank you. I would wish to be one.” He looked her over and shuddered. Betty had been experimenting with a new design of bars; it made her face somewhat like a checker board. Besides that she had evidently been shopping and was dressed in styles far too old for her. Mr. Kiku was forced to remind himself that customs varied. “Um. . . my dear young lady, the purpose of this consultation is somewhat difficult to explain.”
“Make it easy on yourself. I’m in no hurry.”
“Will you have tea?”
“Let me pour for us. It’s chummier.” He allowed her to, then sat back with his cup in a relaxed attitude he did not feeL
“I trust you have been enjoying your stay?”
“Oh my, yes! I’ve never been able to shop before without counting pennies. Everybody should have an expense account.”
“Enjoy it I assure you it will never show in the annual budget. . . literally. Our discretionary fund. Uh, you are an orphan, are you not?”
“A legal orphan. I’m a Free Child. My guardian is the Westville Home for Free Children. Why?”
“Then you are not of age?”
“Depends on how you look at it. I think I am, the court says I’m not. But it won’t be long now, thank goodness.”
“Um, yes. Perhaps I should say that I knew all this,”
“I figured you did. What’s it all about?”
“Um. Perhaps I should tell a little story. Did you ever raise rabbits? Or cats?”
“I’ve had cats.”
“We have run into a difficulty with the Hroshia we know as Lummox. Nothing disastrous; our treaty with them is not affected, since she has given her word. But, uh, shall we say that if we could oblige Lummox in a certain matter, it would make for better feelings, better future relations?”
“I suppose we shall say so, if you say so. What is it, Mr. Kiku?”
‘Um. We are both aware that this Hroshia Lummox has long been a pet of John Thomas Stuart.”
“Why, certainly. It worked out funny, didn’t it?”
“Um, yes. And that Lummox was the pet of John Thomas’s father before him, and so on for four generations.”
“Yes, of course. Nobody could want a sweeter pet.”
“Now, that is just the point, Miss Sorenson. . . Betty. That is the point of view of John Thomas and his forebears. But there are always at least two points of view. From the viewpoint of Lummox she. . . he. . . was not a pet. Quite the contrary. John Thomas was his pet. Lummox was engaged in raising John Thomases.”
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