2007年10月26日星期五
Waiting (4)
Beside him, chickens were strutting and geese waddling. A few little chicks were passing back and forth through the narrow gaps in the paling that fenced a small vegetable garden. In the garden pole beans and long cucumbers hung on trellises, eggplants curved like ox horns, and lettuce heads were so robust that they covered up the furrows. In addition to the poultry, his wife kept two pigs and a goat for milk. Their sow was oinking from the pigpen, which was adjacent to the western end of the vegetable garden. Against the wall of the pigpen a pile of manure waited to be carted to their family plot, where it would go through high-temperature composting in a pit for two months before being put into the field. The air reeked of distillers’ grains mixed in the pig feed. Lin disliked the sour smell, which was the only uncomfortable thing to him here. From the kitchen, where Shuyu was cooking, came the coughing of the bellows. In the south, elm and birch crowns shaded their neighbors’ straw and tiled roofs. Now and then a dog barked from one of these homes.
Waiting (3)
Lin Kong graduated from the military medical school toward the end of 1963 and came to Muji to work as a doctor. At that time the hospital ran a small nursing school, which offered a sixteen-month program and produced nurses for the army in Manchuria and Inner Mongolia. When Manna Wu enrolled as a student in the fall of 1964, Lin was teaching a course in anatomy. She was an energetic young woman at the time, playing volleyball on the hospital team. Unlike most of her classmates who were recent middle- or high-school graduates, she had already served three years as a telephone operator in a coastal division and was older than most of them. Since over 95 percent of the students in the nursing school were female, many young officers from the units stationed in Muji City would frequent the hospital on weekends. Most of the officers wanted to find a girlfriend or a fiancée among the students, although these young women were still soldiers and were not allowed to have a boyfriend. There was a secret reason for the men's interest in the female students, a reason few of them would articulate but one which they all knew in their hearts, namely that these were "good girls." That phrase meant these women were virgins; otherwise they could not have joined the army, since every young woman recruited had to go through a physical exam that eliminated those with a broken hymen. One Sunday afternoon in the summer, Manna was washing clothes alone in the dormitory washroom. In came a bareheaded lieutenant of slender build and medium height, his face marked with a few freckles. His collar was unbuckled and the top buttons on his jacket were undone, displaying his prominent Adam's apple. He stood beside her, lifted his foot up, and placed it into the long terrazzo sink. The tap water splashed on his black plastic sandal and spread like a silvery fan. Done with the left foot, he put in his right. To Manna's amusement, he bathed his feet again and again. His breath stank of alcohol. He turned and gave her a toothy grin, and she smiled back. Gradually they entered into conversation. He said he was the head of a radio station at the headquarters of the Muji Sub-Command and a friend of Instructor Peng. His hands shook a little as he talked. He asked where she came from; she told him her hometown was in Shandong Province, withholding the fact that she had grown up as an orphan without a hometown — her parents had died in a traffic accident in Tibet when she was three. "What's your name?" he asked. "Manna Wu." "I'm Mai Dong, from Shanghai." A lull set in. She felt her face flushing a little, so she returned to washing her clothes. But he seemed eager to go on talking. "Glad to meet you, Comrade Manna Wu," he said abruptly and stretched out his hand. She waved to show the soapsuds on her palms. "Sorry," she said with a pixieish smile. "By the way, how do you like Muji?" he asked, rubbing his wet hands on his flanks. "It's all right." "Really? Even the weather here?" "Yes." "Not too cold in winter?" Before she could answer, he went on, "Of course, summer's fine. How about — " "Why did you bathe your feet eight or nine times?" She giggled. "Oh, did I?" He seemed bewildered, looking down at his feet. "Nice sandals," she said. "My cousin sent them from Shanghai. By the way, how old are you?" He grinned. Surprised by the question, she looked at him for a moment and then turned away, reddening. He smiled rather naturally. "I mean, do you have a boyfriend?" Again she was taken aback. Before she could decide how to answer, a woman student walked in with a bucket to fetch water, so their conversation had to end. A week later she received a letter from Mai Dong. He apologized profusely for disturbing her in the washroom and for his untidy appearance, which wasn't suitable for an officer. He had asked her so many embarrassing questions, she must have taken him for an idiot. But he had not been himself that day. He begged her to forgive him. She wrote back, saying she had not been offended, instead very much amused. She appreciated his candor and natural manners. Both of them were in their mid-twenties and had never taken a lover. Soon they began to write each other a few times a week. Within two months they started their rendezvous on weekends at movie theaters, parks, and the riverbank. Mai Dong hated Muji, which was a city with a population of about a quarter of a million. He dreaded its severe winters and the north winds that came from Siberia with clouds of snow dust. The smog, which always curtained the sky when the weather was cold, aggravated his chronic sore throat. His work, transcribing and transmitting telegrams, impaired his eyesight. He was unhappy and complained a great deal. Manna tried to comfort him with kind words. By nature he was weak and gentle. Sometimes she felt he was like a small boy who needed the care of an elder sister or a mother. One Saturday afternoon in the fall, they met in Victory Park. Under a weeping willow on the bank of a lake, they sat together watching a group of children on the other shore flying a large kite, which was a paper centipede crawling up and down in the air. To their right, about a hundred feet away, a donkey was tethered to a tree, now and then whisking its tail. Its master was lying on the grass and taking a nap, a green cap over his face so that flies might not bother him. Maple seeds floated down, revolving in the breeze. Furtively Mai Dong stretched out his hand, held Manna's shoulder, and pulled her closer so as to kiss her lips. "What are you doing?" she cried, leaping to her feet. Her abrupt movement scared away the mallards and geese in the water. She didn't understand his intention and thought he had attempted something indecent, like a hoodlum. She didn't remember ever being kissed by anyone. He looked puzzled, then muttered, "I didn't mean to make you angry like this." "Don't ever do that again." "All right, I won't." He turned away from her and looked piqued, spitting on the grass. From then on, though she didn't reproach him again, she resisted his advances resolutely, her sense of virtue and honor preventing her from succumbing to his desire. Her resistance kindled his passion. Soon he told her that he couldn't help thinking of her all the time, as though she had become his shadow. Sometimes at night, he would walk alone in the compound of the Sub-Command headquarters for hours, with his 1951 pistol stuck in his belt. Heaven knew how he missed her and how many nights he remained awake tossing and turning while thinking about her. Out of desperation, he proposed to her two months before her graduation. He wanted to marry her without delay. She thought he must have lost his mind, though by now she also couldn't help thinking of him for an hour or two every night. Her head ached in the morning, her grades were suffering, and she was often angry with herself. She would lose her temper with others for no apparent reason. When nobody was around, tears often came to her eyes. For all their love, an immediate marriage would be impracticable, out of the question. She was uncertain where she would be sent when she graduated, probably to a remote army unit, which could be anywhere in Manchuria or Inner Mongolia. Besides, a marriage at this moment would suggest that she was having a love affair; this would invite punishment, the lightest of which the school would administer was to keep the couple as separate as possible. In recent years the leaders had assigned some lovers to different places deliberately. She revealed Mai Dong's proposal to nobody except her teacher Lin Kong, who was known as a good-hearted married man and was regarded by many students as a kind of elder brother. In such a situation she needed an objective opinion. Lin agreed that a marriage at this moment was unwise, and that they had better wait a while until her graduation and then decide what to do. He promised he would let nobody know of the relationship. In addition, he said he would try to help her in the job assignment if he was involved in making the decision. She reasoned Mai Dong out of the idea of an immediate marriage and assured him that she would become his wife sooner or later. As graduation approached, they both grew restless, hoping she would remain in Muji City. He was depressed, and his despondency made her love him more. At the graduation she was assigned to stay in the hospital and work in its Medical Department as a nurse — a junior officer of the twenty-fourth rank. The good news, however, didn't please Mai Dong and Manna for long, because a week later he was informed that his radio station was going to be transferred to a newly formed regiment in Fuyuan County, almost eighty miles northeast of Muji and very close to the Russian border. "Don't panic," she told him. "Work and study hard on the front. I'll wait for you." Though also heartbroken, she felt he was a rather pathetic man. She wished he were stronger, a man she could rely on in times of adversity, because life always had unexpected misfortunes. "When will we get married?" he asked. "Soon, I promise." Despite saying that, she was unsure whether he would be able to come back to Muji. She preferred to wait a while. The nearer the time for departure drew, the more embittered Mai Dong became. A few times he mentioned he would rather be demobilized and return to Shanghai, but she dissuaded him from considering that. A discharge might send him to a place far away, such as an oil field or a construction corps building railroads in the interior of China. It was better for them to stay as close as possible. When she saw him off at the front entrance of the Sub-Command headquarters, she had to keep blowing on her fingers, having forgotten to bring along her mittens. She wouldn't take the fur gloves he offered her; she said he would need them more. He stood at the back door of the radio van, whose green body had turned gray with encrusted ice and snow. The radio antenna atop the van was tilting in the wind, which, with a shrill whistle, again and again tried to snatch it up and bear it off. More snow was falling, and the air was piercingly cold. Mai Dong's breath hung around his face as he shouted orders to his soldiers in the van, who gathered at the window, eager to see what Manna looked like. Outside the van, a man loaded into a side trunk some large wooden blocks needed for climbing the slippery mountain roads. The driver kicked the rear wheels to see whether the tire chains were securely fastened. His fur hat was completely white, a nest of snowflakes. As the van drew away, Mai Dong waved good-bye to Manna, his hand stretching through the back window, as though struggling to pull her along. He wanted to cry, "Wait for me, Manna!" but he dared not get that out in the presence of his men. Seeing his face contort with pain, Manna's eyes blurred with tears. She bit her lips so as not to cry. Winter in Muji was long. Snow wouldn't disappear until early May. In mid-April when the Songhua River began to break up, people would gather at the bank watching the large blocks of ice cracking and drifting in the blackish-green water. Teenage boys, baskets in hand, would tread and hop on the floating ice, picking up pike, whitefish, carp, baby sturgeon, and catfish killed by the ice blocks that had been washed down by spring torrents. Steamboats, still in the docks, blew their horns time and again. When the main channel was finally clear of ice, they crept out, sailing slowly up and down the river and saluting the spectators with long blasts. Children would hail and wave at them. Then spring descended all of a sudden. Aspen catkins flew in the air, so thick that when walking on the streets you could breathe them in and you would flick your hand to keep them away from your face. The scent of lilac blooms was pungent and intoxicating. Yet old people still wrapped themselves in fur or cotton-padded clothes. The dark earth, vast and loamy, marked by tufts of yellow grass here and there, began emitting a warm vapor that flickered like purple smoke in the sunshine. All at once apricot and peach trees broke into blossoms, which grew puffy as bees kept touching them. Within two weeks the summer started. Spring was so short here that people would say Muji had only three seasons. In her letters to Mai Dong, Manna described these seasonal changes as though he had never lived in the city. As always, he complained in his letters about life at the front. Many soldiers there suffered from night blindness because they hadn't eaten enough vegetables. They all had lice in their underclothes since they couldn't take baths in their barracks. For the whole winter and spring he had seen only two movies. He had lost fourteen pounds, he was like a skeleton now. To comfort him, each month Manna mailed him a small bag of peanut brittle. One evening in June, Manna and two other nurses were about to set out for the volleyball court behind the medical building. Benping, the soldier in charge of mail and newspapers, came and handed her a letter. Seeing it was from Mai Dong, her teammates teased her, saying, "Aha, a love letter." She opened the envelope and was shocked while reading through the two pages. Mai Dong told her that he couldn't stand the life on the border any longer and had applied for a discharge, which had been granted. He was going back to Shanghai, where the weather was milder and the food better. More heartrending, he had decided to marry his cousin, who was a salesgirl at a department store in Shanghai. Without such a marriage, he wouldn't be able to obtain a residence card, which was absolutely necessary for him to live and find employment in the metropolis. In reality he and the girl had been engaged even before he had applied for his discharge; otherwise he wouldn't have been allowed to go to Shanghai, since he was not from the city proper but from one of its suburban counties. He was sorry for Manna and asked her to hate and forget him. Her initial response was long silence. "Are you okay?" Nurse Shen asked. Manna nodded and said nothing. Then the three of them set out for the game. On the volleyball court Manna, usually an indifferent player, struck the ball with such ferocity that for the first time her comrades shouted "Bravo" for her. Her face was smeared with sweat and tears. As she dove to save a ball, she fell flat on the graveled court and scraped her right elbow. The spectators applauded the diving save while she slowly picked herself up and found blood oozing from her skin. During the break her teammates told her to go to the clinic and have the injury dressed, so she left, planning to return for the second game. But on her way, she changed her mind and ran back to the dormitory. She merely washed her elbow with cold water and didn't bandage it. Once alone in the bedroom, she read the letter again and tears gushed from her eyes. She flung the pages down on the desk and fell on her bed, sobbing, twisting, and biting the pillowcase. A mosquito buzzed above her head, then settled on her neck, but she didn't bother to slap it. She felt as if her heart had been pierced. When her three roommates came back at nine, she was still in tears. They picked up the letter and glanced through it; together they tried to console her by condemning the heartless man. But their words made her sob harder and even convulsively. That night she didn't wash her face or brush her teeth. She slept with her clothes on, waking now and then and weeping quietly while her roommates wheezed or smacked their lips or murmured something in their sleep. She simply couldn't stop her tears. She was ill for a few weeks. She felt aged, in deep lassitude and numb despair, and regretted not marrying Mai Dong before he left for the front. Her limbs were weary, as though separated from herself. Despite her comrades' protests, she dropped out of the volleyball team, saying she was too sick to play. She spent more time alone, as though all at once she belonged to an older generation; she cared less about her looks and clothes. By now she was almost twenty-six, on the verge of becoming an old maid, whose standard age was twenty-seven to most people's minds. The hospital had three old maids; Manna seemed destined to join them. She wasn't very attractive, but she was slim and tall and looked natural; besides, she had a pleasant voice. In normal circumstances she wouldn't have had difficulty in finding a boyfriend, but the hospital always kept over a hundred women nurses, most of whom were around twenty, healthy and normal, so young officers could easily find girlfriends among them. As a result, few men were interested in Manna. Only an enlisted soldier paid her some attentions. He was a cook, a squat man from Szechwan Province, and he would dole out to her a larger portion of a dish when she bought her meal. But she did not want an enlisted soldier as a boyfriend, which would have violated the rule that only officers could have a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Besides, that man looked awful — owlish and cunning. So she avoided standing in any line leading to his window.
Waiting (2)
As an officer, he had a twelve-day leave each year. Since the trip home took a whole day–he had to change trains and buses at two towns–he could stay in the countryside only ten days, saving the last day for the return trip. Before taking this year’s leave, he had thought that once home, he would have enough time to carry out his plan, but by now a whole week had passed and he had not yet mentioned a word to his wife about the divorce. Whenever the subject came to his tongue, he postponed it for another day.
Waiting (1)
Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu. Together they had appeared at the courthouse in Wujia Town many times, but she had always changed her mind at the last moment when the judge asked if she would accept a divorce. Year after year, they went to Wujia Town and came back with the same marriage license issued to them by the county’s registry office twenty years before.
All You Zombies
Robert A. Heinlein. All you zombies
2217 Time Zone V (EST) 7 Nov. 1970-NTC- "Pop's Place":I was polishing a brandy snifter when the Unmarried Mother camein. I noted the time-10: 17 P. M. zone five, or eastern time,November 7th, 1970. Temporal agents always notice time anddate; we must.
The Unmarried Mother was a man twenty-five years old,no taller than I am, childish features and a touchy temper. Ididn't like his looks - I never had - but he was a lad I washere to recruit, he was my boy. I gave him my best barkeep'ssmile.
Maybe I'm too critical. He wasn't swish; his nicknamecame from what he always said when some nosy type asked him hisline: "I'm an unmarried mother. -- If he felt less thanmurderous he would add: "at four cents a word. I writeconfession stories. --
If he felt nasty, he would wait for somebody to makesomething of it. He had a lethal style of infighting, like afemale cop - reason I wanted him. Not the only one.
He had a load on, and his face showed that he despisedpeople more than usual. Silently I poured a double shot of OldUnderwear and left the bottle. He drank it, poured another.
I wiped the bar top. -- How's the "Unmarried Mother"racket? --
His fingers tightened on the glass and he seemed aboutto throw it at me; I felt for the sap under the bar. Intemporal manipulation you try to figure everything, but thereare so many factors that you never take needless risks.
I saw him relax that tiny amount they teach you towatch for in the Bureau's training school. -- Sorry, " I said.-- Just asking, "How's business? " Make it "How's the weather?--
He looked sour. -- Business is okay. I write "em, theyprint "em, I eat. --
I poured myself one, leaned toward him. -- Matter offact, " I said, "you write a nice stick - I've sampled a few.You have an amazingly sure touch with the woman's angle. --
It was a slip I had to risk; he never admitted whatpen-names he used. But he was boiled enough to pick up only thelast: "'Woman's angle! "" he repeated with a snort. -- Yeah, Iknow the woman's angle. I should. -- "So? -- I said doubtfully. -- Sisters? -- "No. You wouldn't believe me if I told you. -- "Now, now, " I answered mildly, "bartenders andpsychiatrists learn that nothing is stranger than truth. Why,son, if you heard the stories I do-well, you'd make yourselfrich. Incredible. -- "You don't know what "incredible" means! " "So? Nothing astonishes me. I've always heard worse. -- He snorted again. -- Want to bet the rest of thebottle? -- "I'll bet a full bottle. -- I placed one on the bar. "Well-" I signaled my other bartender to handle thetrade. We were at the far end, a single-stool space that I keptprivate by loading the bar top by it with jars of pickled eggsand other clutter. A few were at the other end watching thefights and somebody was playing the juke box-private as a bedwhere we were. "Okay, " he began, "to start with, I'm a bastard. -- "No distinction around here, " I said. "I mean it, " he snapped. -- My parents weren'tmarried. -- "Still no distinction, " I insisted. -- Neither weremine. -- "When-" He stopped, gave me the first warm look I eversaw on him. -- You mean that? -- "I do. A one-hundred-percent bastard. In fact, " Iadded, "no one in my family ever marries. All bastards. "Oh, that. -- I showed it to him. -- It just looks likea wedding ring; I wear it to keep women off. -- It is anantique I bought in 1985 from a fellow operative - he hadfetched it from pre-Christian Crete. -- The Worm Ouroboros...the World Snake that eats its own tail, forever without end. Asymbol of the Great Paradox. --
He barely glanced at it. -- if you're really a bastard,you know how it feels. When I was a little girl-"
"Wups! " I said. -- Did I hear you correctly? -- "'Who's telling this story? When I was a littlegirl-Look, ever hear of Christine Jorgenson? Or Roberta Cowell?-- "Uh, sex-change cases? You're trying to tell me-" "Don't interrupt or swelp me, I won't talk. I was afoundling, left at an orphanage in Cleveland in 1945 when I wasa month old. When I was a little girl, I envied kids withparents. Then, when I learned about sex-and, believe me, Pop,you learn fast in an orphanage-" "I know " "-I made a solemn vow that any kid of mine would haveboth a pop and a mom. It kept me "pure, " quite a feat in thatvicinity - I had to learn to fight to manage it. Then I gotolder and realized I stood darn little chance of gettingmarried - for the same reason I hadn't been adopted --. Hescowled. I was horse-faced and buck-toothed, flat-chested andstraight-haired. "You don't look any worse than I do. -- "Who cares how a barkeep looks? Or a writer? But peaplewanting to adopt pick little blue-eyed golden-haired moron.Later on, the boys want bulging breasts, a cute face, and anOh-you-wonderful-male manner. -- He shrugged. I couldn'tcompete. So I decided to join the W. E. N. C. H. E. S. -- Eh? -- "Women's Emergency National Corps, Hospitality &Entertainment Section, what they now call "SpaceAngels'-Auxiliary Nursing Group, Extraterrestrial Legions. -- I knew both terms, once I had them chronized. We usestill a third name, it's that elite military service corps:Women's Hospitality Order Refortifying & Encouraging Spacemen.Vocabulary shift is the worst hurdle in time-jumps - did youknow that "service station" once fractions? Once on anassignment in the Churchill Era, a woman said to me, "Meet meat the service station next door -- - which is not what itsounds; a service station" (then) wouldn't have a bed in it.
He went on: "It was when they first admitted you can'tsend men into space for months and years and not relieve thetension. You remember how the wowsers screamed? - that improvedmy chance, since volunteers were scarce. A gal had to berespectable, preferably virgin (they liked to train them fromscratch), above average mentally, and stable emotionally. Butmost volunteers were old hookers, or neurotics who would crackup ten days off Earth. So I didn't need looks; if they acceptedme, they would fix my buck teeth, put a wave in my hair, teachme to walk and dance and how to listen to a man pleasingly, andeverything else - plus training for the prime duties. Theywould even use plastic surgery if it would help - nothing toogood for our Boys. "Best yet, they made sure you didn't get pregnantduring your enlistment - and you were almost certain to marryat the end of your hitch. Same way today, A. N. G. E. L. S.marry spacers - they talk the language. "When I was eighteen I was placed as a `mother'shelper'. This family simply wanted a cheap servant, but Ididn't mind as I couldn't enlist till I was twenty-one. I didhousework and went to night school - pretending to continue myhigh school typing and shorthand but going to a charm classinstead, to better my chances for enlistment. "Then I met this city slicker with his hundred-dollarbills. -- He scowled. The no-good actually did have a wad ofhundred-dollar bills. He showed me one night, told me to helpmyself. "But I didn't. I liked him. He was the first man I evermet who was nice to me without trying games with me. I quitnight school to see him oftener. It was the happiest time of mylife. "Then one night in the park the games began. -- He stopped. I said, "And then? -- "And then nothing! I never saw him again. He walked mehome and told me he loved me-and kissed me good-night and nevercame back. -- He looked grim. -- If I could find him, I'd killhim! " "Well, " I sympathized, "I know how you feel. Butkilling him-just for doing what comes naturally - hmm... Didyou struggle? -- "Huh? What's that got to do with it? -- "Quite a bit. Maybe he deserves a couple of broken armsfor running out on you, but-" "He deserves worse than that! Wait till you hear.Somehow I kept anyone from suspecting and decided it was allfor the best. I hadn't really loved him and probably wouldnever love anybody-and I was more eager to join the WE. N. C.H. E. S. than ever. I wasn't disqualified, they didn't insiston virgins. I cheered up. "It wasn't until my skirts got tight that I realized.-- "Pregnant? -- "He had me higher "n a kite! Those skinflints I livedwith ignored it as long as I could work-then kicked me out, andthe orphanage wouldn't take me back. I landed in a charity wardsurrounded by other big bellies and trotted bedpans until mytime came. "One night I found myself on an operating table, with anurse saying, "Relax. Now breathe deeply. " "I woke up in bed, numb from the chest down. My surgeoncame in. "How do you feel? " he says cheerfully. "Like a mummy. -- "Naturally. You're wrapped like one and full of dope tokeep you numb. You'll get well-but a Cesarean isn't a hangnail." Cesarean" I said. "Doc - did I lose the baby? " Oh, no. Your baby's fine. " Oh. Boy or girl? " "'A healthy little girt. Five pounds, three ounces. " "I relaxed. It's something, to have made a baby. I toldmyself I would go somewhere and tack "Mrs. " on my name and letthe kid think her papa was dead -no orphanage for my kid! "But the surgeon was talking. "Tell me, uh-" Heavoided my name. "did you ever think your glandular setup wasodd? " "I said, "Huh? Of course not. What are you driving at?" "He hesitated. I'll give you this in one dose, then ahypo to let you sleep off your jitters. You'll have "em. " "'Why? I demanded. Ever hear of that Scottish physician who was femaleuntil she was thirtyfive? -then had surgery and became legallyand medically a man? Got married. All okay. "
'What's that got to do with me? " "'That's what I'm saying. You're a man. " "I tried to sit up. What? " "Take it easy. When I opened you, I found a mess. Isent for the Chief of Surgery while I got the baby out, then weheld a consultation with you on the table-and worked for hoursto salvage what we could. You had two full sets of organs, bothimmature, but with the female set well enough developed for youto have a baby. They could never be any use to you again, so wetook them out and rearranged things so that you can developproperly as a man. He put a hand on me. "Don't worry. You'reyoung, your bones will readjust, we'll watch your glandularbalance - and make a fine young man out of you. " "I started to cry. "What about my baby? " "Well, you can't nurse her, you haven't milk enough fora kitten. If I were you, I wouldn't see her-put her up foradoption. " "'No! " "He shrugged. "The choice is yours; you're her mother -well, her parent. But don't worry now; we'll get you wellfirst. " "Next day they let me see the kid and I saw her daily -trying to get used to her. I had never seen a brand-new babyand had no idea how awful they look - my daughter looked likean orange monkey. My feelings changed to cold determination todo right by her. But four weeks later that didn't meananything. -- "Eh? -- "She was snatched. -- "'Snatched? -- The Unmarried Mother almost knocked over the bottle wehad bet. -- Kidnapped - stolen from the hospital nursery! " Hebreathed hard. -- How's that for taking the last a man's got tolive for? -- "A bad deal, " I agreed. -- Let's pour you another. Noclues? -- "Nothing the police could trace. Somebody came to seeher, claimed to be her uncle. While the nurse had her backturned, he walked out with her. -- "Description? -- "Just a man, with a face-shaped face, like yours ormine. -- He frowned. -- I think it was the baby's father. Thenurse swore it was an older man but he probably used makeup.Who else would swipe my baby? Childless women pull such stunts- but whoever heard of a man doing it? -- "What happened to you then? -- "Eleven more months of that grim place and threeoperations. In four months I started to grow a beard; before Iwas out I was shaving regularly... and no longer doubted that Iwas male. -- He grinned wryly. -- I was staring down nursesnecklines. -- "Well, " I said, "seems to me you came through okay.Here you are, a normal man, making good money, no realtroubles. And the life of a female is not an easy one. -- He glared at me. -- A lot you know about it! " "So? -- "Ever hear the expression "a ruined woman'? -- "Mmm, years ago. Doesn't mean much today. -- "I was as ruined as a woman can be; that bum reallyruined me - I was no longer a woman... and I didn't know how tobe a man. -- "Takes getting used to, I suppose. -- "You have no idea. I don't mean learning how to dress,or not walking into the wrong rest room; I learned those in thehospital. But how could I live? What job could I get? Hell, Icouldn't even drive a car. I didn't know a trade; I couldn't domanual labor-too much scar tissue, too tender. "I hated him for having ruined me for the W. E. N. C.H. E. S., too, but I didn't know how much until I tried to jointhe Space Corps instead. One look at my belly and I was markedunfit for military service. The medical officer spent time onme just from curiosity; he had read about my case. "So I changed my name and came to New York. I got by asa fry cook, then rented a typewriter and set myself up as apublic stenographer - what a laugh! In four months I typed fourletters and one manuscript. The manuscript was for Real LifeTales and a waste of paper, but the goof who wrote it sold it.Which gave me an idea; I bought a stack of confession magazinesand studied them. -- He looked cynical. -- Now you know how Iget the authentic woman's angle on an unmarried-mother story... through the only version Ihaven't sold - the true one. Do I win the bottle? -- I pushed it toward him. I was upset myself, but therewas work to do. I said, "Son, you still want to lay hands onthat so-and-so? -- His eyes lighted up-a feral gleam. "Hold it! " I said. -- You wouldn't kill him? -- He chuckled nastily. -- Try me. -- "Take it easy. I know more about it than you think Ido. I can help you. I know where he is. -- He reached across the bar. -- Where is he? -- I said softly, "Let go my shirt, sonny-or you'll landin the alley and we'll tell the cops you fainted. -- I showedhim the sap. He let go. -- Sorry. But where is he? -- He looked atme. -- And how do you know so much? -- "All in good time. There are records - hospitalrecords, orphanage records, medical records. The matron of yourorphanage was Mrs. Fetherage - right? She was followed by Mrs.Gruenstein - right? Your name, as a girl, was "Jane" - right?And you didn't tell me any of this - right? -- I had him baffled and a bit scared. -- What's this? Youtrying to make trouble for me? -- "No indeed. I've your welfare at heart. I can put thischaracter in your lap. You do to him as you see fit - and Iguarantee that you'll get away with it. But I don't thinkyou'll kill him. You'd be nuts to - and you aren't nuts. Notquite. -- He brushed it aside. -- Cut the noise. Where is he? -- I poured him a short one; he was drunk, but anger wasoffsetting it. -- Not so fast. I do something for you - you dosomething for me. -- "Uh... what? -- "You don't like your work. What would you say to highpay, steady work, unlimited expense account, your own boss onthe job, and lots of variety and adventure? -- He stared. -- I'd say, "Get those goddam reindeer offmy roof! " Shove it, Pop - there's no such job. -- "Okay, put it this way: I hand him to you, you settlewith him, then try my job. If it's not all I claim - well, Ican't hold you. -- He was wavering; the last drink did it "When d'yuhd'liver "im? -- he said thickly. He shoved out his hand. -- It's a deal! " "If it's a deal-right now! " I nodded to my assistant to watch both ends, noted thetime - 2300 - started to duck through the gate under the bar -when the juke box blared out: "I'm My Own Grandpaw! " Theservice man had orders to load it with Americana and classicsbecause I couldn't stomach the "music" of 1970, but I hadn'tknown that tape was in it. I called out, "Shut that off! Givethe customer his money back. -- I added, "Storeroom, back in amoment, " and headed there with my Unmarried Mother following. It was down the passage across from the johns, a steeldoor to which no one but my day manager and myself had a key;inside was a door to an inner room to which only I had a key.We went there. He looked blearily around at windowless walls. -- Whereis he? -- "Right away. -- I opened a case, the only thing in theroom; it was a U. S. F. F. Coordinates Transformer Field Kit,series 1992, Mod. II - a beauty, no moving parts, weighttwenty-three kilos fully charged, and shaped to pass as asuitcase. I had adjusted it precisely earlier that day; all Ihad to do was to shake out the metal net which limits thetransformation field. Which I did. -- What's that? -- he demanded. "Time machine, " I said and tossed the net over us. "Hey! " he yelled and stepped back. There is atechnique to this; the net has to be thrown so that the subjectwill instinctively step back onto the metal mesh, then youclose the net with both of you inside completely-else you mightleave shoe soles behind or a piece of foot, or scoop up a sliceof floor. But that's all the skill it takes. Some agents con asubject into the net; I tell the truth and use that instant ofutter astonishment to flip the switch. Which I did.
1030-VI-3 April 1963 - Cleveland, Ohio-Apex Bldg.:"Hey! " he repeated. -- Take this damn thing off! " "Sorry, " I apologized and did so, stuffed the net intothe case, closed it. -- You said you wanted to find him. -- "But - you said that was a time machine! " I pointed out a window. -- Does that look likeNovember? Or New York? -- While he was gawking at new buds andspring weather, I reopened the case, took out a packet ofhundred-dollar bills, checked that the numbers and signatureswere compatible with 1963. The Temporal Bureau doesn't care howmuch you spend (it costs nothing) but they don't likeunnecessary anachronisms. Too many mistakes, and a generalcourt-martial will exile you for a year in a nasty period, say1974 with its strict rationing and forced labor. I never makesuch mistakes; the money was okay. He turned around and said, "What happened? -- "He's here. Go outside and take him. Here's expensemoney. -- I shoved it at him and added, "Settle him, then I'llpick you up. -- Hundred-dollar bills have a hypnotic effect on a personnot used to them. He was thumbing them unbelievingly as I easedhim into the hall, locked him out. The next jump was easy, asmall shift in era.
7100-VI-10 March 1964 - Cleveland-Apex Bldg.: There wasa notice under the door saying that my lease expired next week;otherwise the room looked as it had a moment before. Outside,trees were bare and snow threatened; I hurried, stopping onlyfor contemporary money and a coat, hat, and topcoat I had leftthere when I leased the room. I hired a car, went to thehospital. It took twenty minutes to bore the nursery attendantto the point where I could swipe the baby without beingnoticed. We went back to the Apex Building. This dial settingwas more involved, as the building did not yet exist in 1945.But I had precalculated it.
0100-VI-20 Sept. 1945 - Cleveland-Skyview Motel:: Fieldkit, baby, and I arrived in a motel outside town. Earlier I hadregistered as "Gregory Johnson, Warren, Ohio, " so we arrivedin a room with curtains closed, windows locked, and doorsbolted, and the floor cleared to allow for waver as the machinehunts. You can get a nasty bruise from a chair where itshouldn't be - not the chair, of course, but backlash from thefield. No trouble. Jane was sleeping soundly; I carried herout, put her in a grocery box on the seat of a car I hadprovided earlier, drove to the orphanage, put her on the steps,drove two blocks to a "service station" (the petroleum-productssort) and phoned the orphanage, drove back in time to see themtaking the box inside, kept going and abandoned the car nearthe motel - walked to it and jumped forward to the ApexBuilding in 1963. 2200-VI-24 April 1963 - Cleveland-Apex Bldg.: I had cutthe time rather fine - temporal accuracy depends on span,except on return to zero. If I had it right, Jane wasdiscovering, out in the park this balmy spring night, that shewasn't quite as nice a girl as she had thought., I grabbed ataxi to the home of those skinflints, had the hackie waitaround a comer while I lurked in shadows. Presently I spotted them down the street, arms aroundeach other. He took her up on the porch and made a long job ofkissing her good-night-longer than I thought. Then she went inand he came down the walk, turned away. I slid into step andhooked an arm in his. -- That's all, son, " I announcedquietly. -- I'm back to pick you up. -- "You! " He gasped and caught his breath. "Me. Now you know who he is - and after you think itover you'll know who you are... and if you think hard enough,you'll figure out who the baby is... and who I am. -- He didn't answer, he was badly shaken. It's a shock tohave it proved to you that you can't resist seducing yourself.I took him to the Apex Building and we jumped again.
2300-VIII, 12 Aug. 1985-Sub Rockies Base: I woke theduty sergeant, showed my I. D., told the sergeant to bed mycompanion down with a happy pill and recruit him in the moming.The sergeant looked sour, but rank is rank, regardless of era;he did what I said-thinking, no doubt, that the next time wemet he might be the colonel and I the sergeant. Which canhappen in our corps. -- What name? -- he asked. I wrote it out. He raised his eyebrows. -- Like so, eh?Hmm-" "You just do your job, Sergeant. -- I turned to mycompanion. "Son, your troubles are over. You're about to start thebest job a man ever held-and you'll do well. I know. -- "That you will! " agreed the sergeant. -- Look at me -born in 1917-still around, still young, still enjoying life. --I went back to the jump room, set everything on preselectedzero.
2301-V-7 Nov. 1970-NYC -"Pop's Place": I came out ofthe storeroom carrying a fifth of Drambuie to account for theminute I had been gone. My assistant was arguing with thecustomer who had been playing "I'm My Own Grand-paw! " I said,"Oh, let him play it, then unplug it. -- I was very tired. It's rough, but somebody must do it, and it's very hardto recruit anyone in the later years, since the Mistake of1972. Can you think of a better source than to pick people allfouled up where they are and give them well-paid, interesting(even though dangerous) work in a necessary cause? Everybodyknows now why the Fizzle War of 1963 fizzled. The bomb with NewYork's number on it didn't go off, a hundred other thingsdidn't go as planned-all arranged by the likes of me. But not the Mistake of "72; that one is not ourfault-and can't be undone; there's no paradox to resolve. Athing either is, or it isn't, now and forever amen. But therewon't be another like it; an order dated "1992" takesprecedence any year. I closed five minutes early, leaving a letter in thecash register telling my day manager that I was accepting hisoffer to buy me out, to see my lawyer as I was leaving on along vacation. The Bureau might or might not pick up hispayments, but they want things left tidy. I went to the room inthe back of the storeroom and forward to 1993.
2200-VII- 12 Jan 1993-Sub Rockies Annex-HQ TemporalDOL: I checked in with the duty officer and went to myquarters, intending to sleep for a week. I had fetched thebottle we bet (after all, I won it) and took a drink before Iwrote my report. It tasted foul, and I wondered why I had everliked Old Underwear. But it was better than nothing; I don'tlike to be cold sober, I think too much. But I don't really hitthe bottle either; other people have snakes-I have people. I dictated my report; forty recruitments all okayed bythe Psych Bureau - counting my own, which I knew would beokayed. I was here, wasn't I? Then I taped a request forassignment to operations; I was sick of recruiting. I droppedboth in the slot and headed for bed. My eye fell on "The By-Laws of Time, " over my bed:
Never Do Yesterday What Should Be Done Tomorrow. If at Last You Do Succeed, Never Try Again. A Stitch in Time Saves Nine Billion. A Paradox May Be Paradoctored. It Is Earlier When You Think. Ancestors Are Just People. Even Jove Nods.
They didn't inspire me the way they had when I was arecruit; thirty subjective-years of time-jumping wears youdown. I undressed, and when I got down to the hide I looked atmy belly. A Cesarean leaves a big scar, but I'm so hairy nowthat I don't notice it unless I look for it. Then I glanced at the ring on my finger. The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail, Forever and Ever. Iknow where I came from - but where did all you zombies comefrom? I felt a headache coming on, but a headache powder isone thing I do not take. I did once - and you all went away. So I crawled into bed and whistled out the light. You aren't really there at all. There isn't anybody butme - Jane - here alone in the dark. I miss you dreadfully!Last-modified: Fri, 21-Feb-97 18:55:38 GMT
2217 Time Zone V (EST) 7 Nov. 1970-NTC- "Pop's Place":I was polishing a brandy snifter when the Unmarried Mother camein. I noted the time-10: 17 P. M. zone five, or eastern time,November 7th, 1970. Temporal agents always notice time anddate; we must.
The Unmarried Mother was a man twenty-five years old,no taller than I am, childish features and a touchy temper. Ididn't like his looks - I never had - but he was a lad I washere to recruit, he was my boy. I gave him my best barkeep'ssmile.
Maybe I'm too critical. He wasn't swish; his nicknamecame from what he always said when some nosy type asked him hisline: "I'm an unmarried mother. -- If he felt less thanmurderous he would add: "at four cents a word. I writeconfession stories. --
If he felt nasty, he would wait for somebody to makesomething of it. He had a lethal style of infighting, like afemale cop - reason I wanted him. Not the only one.
He had a load on, and his face showed that he despisedpeople more than usual. Silently I poured a double shot of OldUnderwear and left the bottle. He drank it, poured another.
I wiped the bar top. -- How's the "Unmarried Mother"racket? --
His fingers tightened on the glass and he seemed aboutto throw it at me; I felt for the sap under the bar. Intemporal manipulation you try to figure everything, but thereare so many factors that you never take needless risks.
I saw him relax that tiny amount they teach you towatch for in the Bureau's training school. -- Sorry, " I said.-- Just asking, "How's business? " Make it "How's the weather?--
He looked sour. -- Business is okay. I write "em, theyprint "em, I eat. --
I poured myself one, leaned toward him. -- Matter offact, " I said, "you write a nice stick - I've sampled a few.You have an amazingly sure touch with the woman's angle. --
It was a slip I had to risk; he never admitted whatpen-names he used. But he was boiled enough to pick up only thelast: "'Woman's angle! "" he repeated with a snort. -- Yeah, Iknow the woman's angle. I should. -- "So? -- I said doubtfully. -- Sisters? -- "No. You wouldn't believe me if I told you. -- "Now, now, " I answered mildly, "bartenders andpsychiatrists learn that nothing is stranger than truth. Why,son, if you heard the stories I do-well, you'd make yourselfrich. Incredible. -- "You don't know what "incredible" means! " "So? Nothing astonishes me. I've always heard worse. -- He snorted again. -- Want to bet the rest of thebottle? -- "I'll bet a full bottle. -- I placed one on the bar. "Well-" I signaled my other bartender to handle thetrade. We were at the far end, a single-stool space that I keptprivate by loading the bar top by it with jars of pickled eggsand other clutter. A few were at the other end watching thefights and somebody was playing the juke box-private as a bedwhere we were. "Okay, " he began, "to start with, I'm a bastard. -- "No distinction around here, " I said. "I mean it, " he snapped. -- My parents weren'tmarried. -- "Still no distinction, " I insisted. -- Neither weremine. -- "When-" He stopped, gave me the first warm look I eversaw on him. -- You mean that? -- "I do. A one-hundred-percent bastard. In fact, " Iadded, "no one in my family ever marries. All bastards. "Oh, that. -- I showed it to him. -- It just looks likea wedding ring; I wear it to keep women off. -- It is anantique I bought in 1985 from a fellow operative - he hadfetched it from pre-Christian Crete. -- The Worm Ouroboros...the World Snake that eats its own tail, forever without end. Asymbol of the Great Paradox. --
He barely glanced at it. -- if you're really a bastard,you know how it feels. When I was a little girl-"
"Wups! " I said. -- Did I hear you correctly? -- "'Who's telling this story? When I was a littlegirl-Look, ever hear of Christine Jorgenson? Or Roberta Cowell?-- "Uh, sex-change cases? You're trying to tell me-" "Don't interrupt or swelp me, I won't talk. I was afoundling, left at an orphanage in Cleveland in 1945 when I wasa month old. When I was a little girl, I envied kids withparents. Then, when I learned about sex-and, believe me, Pop,you learn fast in an orphanage-" "I know " "-I made a solemn vow that any kid of mine would haveboth a pop and a mom. It kept me "pure, " quite a feat in thatvicinity - I had to learn to fight to manage it. Then I gotolder and realized I stood darn little chance of gettingmarried - for the same reason I hadn't been adopted --. Hescowled. I was horse-faced and buck-toothed, flat-chested andstraight-haired. "You don't look any worse than I do. -- "Who cares how a barkeep looks? Or a writer? But peaplewanting to adopt pick little blue-eyed golden-haired moron.Later on, the boys want bulging breasts, a cute face, and anOh-you-wonderful-male manner. -- He shrugged. I couldn'tcompete. So I decided to join the W. E. N. C. H. E. S. -- Eh? -- "Women's Emergency National Corps, Hospitality &Entertainment Section, what they now call "SpaceAngels'-Auxiliary Nursing Group, Extraterrestrial Legions. -- I knew both terms, once I had them chronized. We usestill a third name, it's that elite military service corps:Women's Hospitality Order Refortifying & Encouraging Spacemen.Vocabulary shift is the worst hurdle in time-jumps - did youknow that "service station" once fractions? Once on anassignment in the Churchill Era, a woman said to me, "Meet meat the service station next door -- - which is not what itsounds; a service station" (then) wouldn't have a bed in it.
He went on: "It was when they first admitted you can'tsend men into space for months and years and not relieve thetension. You remember how the wowsers screamed? - that improvedmy chance, since volunteers were scarce. A gal had to berespectable, preferably virgin (they liked to train them fromscratch), above average mentally, and stable emotionally. Butmost volunteers were old hookers, or neurotics who would crackup ten days off Earth. So I didn't need looks; if they acceptedme, they would fix my buck teeth, put a wave in my hair, teachme to walk and dance and how to listen to a man pleasingly, andeverything else - plus training for the prime duties. Theywould even use plastic surgery if it would help - nothing toogood for our Boys. "Best yet, they made sure you didn't get pregnantduring your enlistment - and you were almost certain to marryat the end of your hitch. Same way today, A. N. G. E. L. S.marry spacers - they talk the language. "When I was eighteen I was placed as a `mother'shelper'. This family simply wanted a cheap servant, but Ididn't mind as I couldn't enlist till I was twenty-one. I didhousework and went to night school - pretending to continue myhigh school typing and shorthand but going to a charm classinstead, to better my chances for enlistment. "Then I met this city slicker with his hundred-dollarbills. -- He scowled. The no-good actually did have a wad ofhundred-dollar bills. He showed me one night, told me to helpmyself. "But I didn't. I liked him. He was the first man I evermet who was nice to me without trying games with me. I quitnight school to see him oftener. It was the happiest time of mylife. "Then one night in the park the games began. -- He stopped. I said, "And then? -- "And then nothing! I never saw him again. He walked mehome and told me he loved me-and kissed me good-night and nevercame back. -- He looked grim. -- If I could find him, I'd killhim! " "Well, " I sympathized, "I know how you feel. Butkilling him-just for doing what comes naturally - hmm... Didyou struggle? -- "Huh? What's that got to do with it? -- "Quite a bit. Maybe he deserves a couple of broken armsfor running out on you, but-" "He deserves worse than that! Wait till you hear.Somehow I kept anyone from suspecting and decided it was allfor the best. I hadn't really loved him and probably wouldnever love anybody-and I was more eager to join the WE. N. C.H. E. S. than ever. I wasn't disqualified, they didn't insiston virgins. I cheered up. "It wasn't until my skirts got tight that I realized.-- "Pregnant? -- "He had me higher "n a kite! Those skinflints I livedwith ignored it as long as I could work-then kicked me out, andthe orphanage wouldn't take me back. I landed in a charity wardsurrounded by other big bellies and trotted bedpans until mytime came. "One night I found myself on an operating table, with anurse saying, "Relax. Now breathe deeply. " "I woke up in bed, numb from the chest down. My surgeoncame in. "How do you feel? " he says cheerfully. "Like a mummy. -- "Naturally. You're wrapped like one and full of dope tokeep you numb. You'll get well-but a Cesarean isn't a hangnail." Cesarean" I said. "Doc - did I lose the baby? " Oh, no. Your baby's fine. " Oh. Boy or girl? " "'A healthy little girt. Five pounds, three ounces. " "I relaxed. It's something, to have made a baby. I toldmyself I would go somewhere and tack "Mrs. " on my name and letthe kid think her papa was dead -no orphanage for my kid! "But the surgeon was talking. "Tell me, uh-" Heavoided my name. "did you ever think your glandular setup wasodd? " "I said, "Huh? Of course not. What are you driving at?" "He hesitated. I'll give you this in one dose, then ahypo to let you sleep off your jitters. You'll have "em. " "'Why? I demanded. Ever hear of that Scottish physician who was femaleuntil she was thirtyfive? -then had surgery and became legallyand medically a man? Got married. All okay. "
'What's that got to do with me? " "'That's what I'm saying. You're a man. " "I tried to sit up. What? " "Take it easy. When I opened you, I found a mess. Isent for the Chief of Surgery while I got the baby out, then weheld a consultation with you on the table-and worked for hoursto salvage what we could. You had two full sets of organs, bothimmature, but with the female set well enough developed for youto have a baby. They could never be any use to you again, so wetook them out and rearranged things so that you can developproperly as a man. He put a hand on me. "Don't worry. You'reyoung, your bones will readjust, we'll watch your glandularbalance - and make a fine young man out of you. " "I started to cry. "What about my baby? " "Well, you can't nurse her, you haven't milk enough fora kitten. If I were you, I wouldn't see her-put her up foradoption. " "'No! " "He shrugged. "The choice is yours; you're her mother -well, her parent. But don't worry now; we'll get you wellfirst. " "Next day they let me see the kid and I saw her daily -trying to get used to her. I had never seen a brand-new babyand had no idea how awful they look - my daughter looked likean orange monkey. My feelings changed to cold determination todo right by her. But four weeks later that didn't meananything. -- "Eh? -- "She was snatched. -- "'Snatched? -- The Unmarried Mother almost knocked over the bottle wehad bet. -- Kidnapped - stolen from the hospital nursery! " Hebreathed hard. -- How's that for taking the last a man's got tolive for? -- "A bad deal, " I agreed. -- Let's pour you another. Noclues? -- "Nothing the police could trace. Somebody came to seeher, claimed to be her uncle. While the nurse had her backturned, he walked out with her. -- "Description? -- "Just a man, with a face-shaped face, like yours ormine. -- He frowned. -- I think it was the baby's father. Thenurse swore it was an older man but he probably used makeup.Who else would swipe my baby? Childless women pull such stunts- but whoever heard of a man doing it? -- "What happened to you then? -- "Eleven more months of that grim place and threeoperations. In four months I started to grow a beard; before Iwas out I was shaving regularly... and no longer doubted that Iwas male. -- He grinned wryly. -- I was staring down nursesnecklines. -- "Well, " I said, "seems to me you came through okay.Here you are, a normal man, making good money, no realtroubles. And the life of a female is not an easy one. -- He glared at me. -- A lot you know about it! " "So? -- "Ever hear the expression "a ruined woman'? -- "Mmm, years ago. Doesn't mean much today. -- "I was as ruined as a woman can be; that bum reallyruined me - I was no longer a woman... and I didn't know how tobe a man. -- "Takes getting used to, I suppose. -- "You have no idea. I don't mean learning how to dress,or not walking into the wrong rest room; I learned those in thehospital. But how could I live? What job could I get? Hell, Icouldn't even drive a car. I didn't know a trade; I couldn't domanual labor-too much scar tissue, too tender. "I hated him for having ruined me for the W. E. N. C.H. E. S., too, but I didn't know how much until I tried to jointhe Space Corps instead. One look at my belly and I was markedunfit for military service. The medical officer spent time onme just from curiosity; he had read about my case. "So I changed my name and came to New York. I got by asa fry cook, then rented a typewriter and set myself up as apublic stenographer - what a laugh! In four months I typed fourletters and one manuscript. The manuscript was for Real LifeTales and a waste of paper, but the goof who wrote it sold it.Which gave me an idea; I bought a stack of confession magazinesand studied them. -- He looked cynical. -- Now you know how Iget the authentic woman's angle on an unmarried-mother story... through the only version Ihaven't sold - the true one. Do I win the bottle? -- I pushed it toward him. I was upset myself, but therewas work to do. I said, "Son, you still want to lay hands onthat so-and-so? -- His eyes lighted up-a feral gleam. "Hold it! " I said. -- You wouldn't kill him? -- He chuckled nastily. -- Try me. -- "Take it easy. I know more about it than you think Ido. I can help you. I know where he is. -- He reached across the bar. -- Where is he? -- I said softly, "Let go my shirt, sonny-or you'll landin the alley and we'll tell the cops you fainted. -- I showedhim the sap. He let go. -- Sorry. But where is he? -- He looked atme. -- And how do you know so much? -- "All in good time. There are records - hospitalrecords, orphanage records, medical records. The matron of yourorphanage was Mrs. Fetherage - right? She was followed by Mrs.Gruenstein - right? Your name, as a girl, was "Jane" - right?And you didn't tell me any of this - right? -- I had him baffled and a bit scared. -- What's this? Youtrying to make trouble for me? -- "No indeed. I've your welfare at heart. I can put thischaracter in your lap. You do to him as you see fit - and Iguarantee that you'll get away with it. But I don't thinkyou'll kill him. You'd be nuts to - and you aren't nuts. Notquite. -- He brushed it aside. -- Cut the noise. Where is he? -- I poured him a short one; he was drunk, but anger wasoffsetting it. -- Not so fast. I do something for you - you dosomething for me. -- "Uh... what? -- "You don't like your work. What would you say to highpay, steady work, unlimited expense account, your own boss onthe job, and lots of variety and adventure? -- He stared. -- I'd say, "Get those goddam reindeer offmy roof! " Shove it, Pop - there's no such job. -- "Okay, put it this way: I hand him to you, you settlewith him, then try my job. If it's not all I claim - well, Ican't hold you. -- He was wavering; the last drink did it "When d'yuhd'liver "im? -- he said thickly. He shoved out his hand. -- It's a deal! " "If it's a deal-right now! " I nodded to my assistant to watch both ends, noted thetime - 2300 - started to duck through the gate under the bar -when the juke box blared out: "I'm My Own Grandpaw! " Theservice man had orders to load it with Americana and classicsbecause I couldn't stomach the "music" of 1970, but I hadn'tknown that tape was in it. I called out, "Shut that off! Givethe customer his money back. -- I added, "Storeroom, back in amoment, " and headed there with my Unmarried Mother following. It was down the passage across from the johns, a steeldoor to which no one but my day manager and myself had a key;inside was a door to an inner room to which only I had a key.We went there. He looked blearily around at windowless walls. -- Whereis he? -- "Right away. -- I opened a case, the only thing in theroom; it was a U. S. F. F. Coordinates Transformer Field Kit,series 1992, Mod. II - a beauty, no moving parts, weighttwenty-three kilos fully charged, and shaped to pass as asuitcase. I had adjusted it precisely earlier that day; all Ihad to do was to shake out the metal net which limits thetransformation field. Which I did. -- What's that? -- he demanded. "Time machine, " I said and tossed the net over us. "Hey! " he yelled and stepped back. There is atechnique to this; the net has to be thrown so that the subjectwill instinctively step back onto the metal mesh, then youclose the net with both of you inside completely-else you mightleave shoe soles behind or a piece of foot, or scoop up a sliceof floor. But that's all the skill it takes. Some agents con asubject into the net; I tell the truth and use that instant ofutter astonishment to flip the switch. Which I did.
1030-VI-3 April 1963 - Cleveland, Ohio-Apex Bldg.:"Hey! " he repeated. -- Take this damn thing off! " "Sorry, " I apologized and did so, stuffed the net intothe case, closed it. -- You said you wanted to find him. -- "But - you said that was a time machine! " I pointed out a window. -- Does that look likeNovember? Or New York? -- While he was gawking at new buds andspring weather, I reopened the case, took out a packet ofhundred-dollar bills, checked that the numbers and signatureswere compatible with 1963. The Temporal Bureau doesn't care howmuch you spend (it costs nothing) but they don't likeunnecessary anachronisms. Too many mistakes, and a generalcourt-martial will exile you for a year in a nasty period, say1974 with its strict rationing and forced labor. I never makesuch mistakes; the money was okay. He turned around and said, "What happened? -- "He's here. Go outside and take him. Here's expensemoney. -- I shoved it at him and added, "Settle him, then I'llpick you up. -- Hundred-dollar bills have a hypnotic effect on a personnot used to them. He was thumbing them unbelievingly as I easedhim into the hall, locked him out. The next jump was easy, asmall shift in era.
7100-VI-10 March 1964 - Cleveland-Apex Bldg.: There wasa notice under the door saying that my lease expired next week;otherwise the room looked as it had a moment before. Outside,trees were bare and snow threatened; I hurried, stopping onlyfor contemporary money and a coat, hat, and topcoat I had leftthere when I leased the room. I hired a car, went to thehospital. It took twenty minutes to bore the nursery attendantto the point where I could swipe the baby without beingnoticed. We went back to the Apex Building. This dial settingwas more involved, as the building did not yet exist in 1945.But I had precalculated it.
0100-VI-20 Sept. 1945 - Cleveland-Skyview Motel:: Fieldkit, baby, and I arrived in a motel outside town. Earlier I hadregistered as "Gregory Johnson, Warren, Ohio, " so we arrivedin a room with curtains closed, windows locked, and doorsbolted, and the floor cleared to allow for waver as the machinehunts. You can get a nasty bruise from a chair where itshouldn't be - not the chair, of course, but backlash from thefield. No trouble. Jane was sleeping soundly; I carried herout, put her in a grocery box on the seat of a car I hadprovided earlier, drove to the orphanage, put her on the steps,drove two blocks to a "service station" (the petroleum-productssort) and phoned the orphanage, drove back in time to see themtaking the box inside, kept going and abandoned the car nearthe motel - walked to it and jumped forward to the ApexBuilding in 1963. 2200-VI-24 April 1963 - Cleveland-Apex Bldg.: I had cutthe time rather fine - temporal accuracy depends on span,except on return to zero. If I had it right, Jane wasdiscovering, out in the park this balmy spring night, that shewasn't quite as nice a girl as she had thought., I grabbed ataxi to the home of those skinflints, had the hackie waitaround a comer while I lurked in shadows. Presently I spotted them down the street, arms aroundeach other. He took her up on the porch and made a long job ofkissing her good-night-longer than I thought. Then she went inand he came down the walk, turned away. I slid into step andhooked an arm in his. -- That's all, son, " I announcedquietly. -- I'm back to pick you up. -- "You! " He gasped and caught his breath. "Me. Now you know who he is - and after you think itover you'll know who you are... and if you think hard enough,you'll figure out who the baby is... and who I am. -- He didn't answer, he was badly shaken. It's a shock tohave it proved to you that you can't resist seducing yourself.I took him to the Apex Building and we jumped again.
2300-VIII, 12 Aug. 1985-Sub Rockies Base: I woke theduty sergeant, showed my I. D., told the sergeant to bed mycompanion down with a happy pill and recruit him in the moming.The sergeant looked sour, but rank is rank, regardless of era;he did what I said-thinking, no doubt, that the next time wemet he might be the colonel and I the sergeant. Which canhappen in our corps. -- What name? -- he asked. I wrote it out. He raised his eyebrows. -- Like so, eh?Hmm-" "You just do your job, Sergeant. -- I turned to mycompanion. "Son, your troubles are over. You're about to start thebest job a man ever held-and you'll do well. I know. -- "That you will! " agreed the sergeant. -- Look at me -born in 1917-still around, still young, still enjoying life. --I went back to the jump room, set everything on preselectedzero.
2301-V-7 Nov. 1970-NYC -"Pop's Place": I came out ofthe storeroom carrying a fifth of Drambuie to account for theminute I had been gone. My assistant was arguing with thecustomer who had been playing "I'm My Own Grand-paw! " I said,"Oh, let him play it, then unplug it. -- I was very tired. It's rough, but somebody must do it, and it's very hardto recruit anyone in the later years, since the Mistake of1972. Can you think of a better source than to pick people allfouled up where they are and give them well-paid, interesting(even though dangerous) work in a necessary cause? Everybodyknows now why the Fizzle War of 1963 fizzled. The bomb with NewYork's number on it didn't go off, a hundred other thingsdidn't go as planned-all arranged by the likes of me. But not the Mistake of "72; that one is not ourfault-and can't be undone; there's no paradox to resolve. Athing either is, or it isn't, now and forever amen. But therewon't be another like it; an order dated "1992" takesprecedence any year. I closed five minutes early, leaving a letter in thecash register telling my day manager that I was accepting hisoffer to buy me out, to see my lawyer as I was leaving on along vacation. The Bureau might or might not pick up hispayments, but they want things left tidy. I went to the room inthe back of the storeroom and forward to 1993.
2200-VII- 12 Jan 1993-Sub Rockies Annex-HQ TemporalDOL: I checked in with the duty officer and went to myquarters, intending to sleep for a week. I had fetched thebottle we bet (after all, I won it) and took a drink before Iwrote my report. It tasted foul, and I wondered why I had everliked Old Underwear. But it was better than nothing; I don'tlike to be cold sober, I think too much. But I don't really hitthe bottle either; other people have snakes-I have people. I dictated my report; forty recruitments all okayed bythe Psych Bureau - counting my own, which I knew would beokayed. I was here, wasn't I? Then I taped a request forassignment to operations; I was sick of recruiting. I droppedboth in the slot and headed for bed. My eye fell on "The By-Laws of Time, " over my bed:
Never Do Yesterday What Should Be Done Tomorrow. If at Last You Do Succeed, Never Try Again. A Stitch in Time Saves Nine Billion. A Paradox May Be Paradoctored. It Is Earlier When You Think. Ancestors Are Just People. Even Jove Nods.
They didn't inspire me the way they had when I was arecruit; thirty subjective-years of time-jumping wears youdown. I undressed, and when I got down to the hide I looked atmy belly. A Cesarean leaves a big scar, but I'm so hairy nowthat I don't notice it unless I look for it. Then I glanced at the ring on my finger. The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail, Forever and Ever. Iknow where I came from - but where did all you zombies comefrom? I felt a headache coming on, but a headache powder isone thing I do not take. I did once - and you all went away. So I crawled into bed and whistled out the light. You aren't really there at all. There isn't anybody butme - Jane - here alone in the dark. I miss you dreadfully!Last-modified: Fri, 21-Feb-97 18:55:38 GMT
城里老鼠和乡下老鼠
Once there were two mice. They were friends. One mouse lived in the country; the other mouse lived in the city. After many years the Country mouse saw the City mouse; he said, "Do come and see me at my house in the country." So the City mouse went. The City mouse said, "This food is not good, and your house is not good. Why do you live in a hole in the field? You should come and live in the city. You would live in a nice house made of stone. You would have nice food to eat. You must come and see me at my house in the city." The Country mouse went to the house of the City mouse. It was a very good house. Nice food was set ready for them to eat. But just as they began to eat they heard a great noise. The City mouse cried, " Run! Run! The cat is coming!" They ran away quickly and hid. After some time they came out. When they came out, the Country mouse said, "I do not like living in the city. I like living in my hole in the field. For it is nicer to be poor and happy, than to be rich and afraid."
.太阳和风
The wind and the sun were disputing who was the stronger. Suddenly they saw a traveler coming down the road. The sun said, "Whoever can make the traveler take off his coat will be the stronger." So the sun hid behind a cloud, and the wind began to blow as hard as it could. As the wind blew harder, the traveler wrapped his coat more closely around himself. Then the sun came out. He shone on the traveler. The traveler soon felt quite hot, and took off his coat.
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