by Mark Clifton
die tomorrow, today, now.
The men were still living in a dream of getting back. No doubt theirlusting appetites were driving them to get back to their brazen,heavy-breasted, languorous-eyed hussies who pandered to all comerswithout shame! Miss Kitty was astonished at her sudden vehemence, thered wave of fury which swept over her.
But of course she was right. That was their urgent drive. "A male humanis nothing more than a sex machine!" Wasn't that what her roommate atcollege had once said? Or was it her maiden aunt who had dominated herwidowed mother and herself through all the years she was growing up?What did it matter who said it? She knew it was true. No wonder theywere so anxious to get back to Old Earth! Her lip lifted in cynicalscorn.
"You don't dare leave a young girl alone with a boy for five minutes,"her aunt had once complained bitterly. "All they ever think aboutis...." her voice had dropped to a whisper and she had given thatsignificant look to Katheryn's mother. But Katheryn had known what shemeant, of course.
And it was true of all men.
Women, back on Old Earth, had looked at her with pity and a littlecontempt, because she had never, she had never.... But you didn't haveto have first hand experience to know. She had authoritative knowledgegleaned from reading between the lines of the very best text books onabnormal psychology. She hadn't had to read between the lines of sundrysurveys and reports. And if there had been no organized study at all,the movies, the TV, the published better fiction--all of it centeredaround that one theme--that one, alone, romanticize it or obscure itthough they might.
It was all men ever thought about. And many women pandered to it--thosesultry, shameless, undulating....
But Sam and Lt. Harper? It had been almost two months now since they hadleft Earth and those vile blondes. How had they restrained themselvesduring all this time!
Her fuming anger was suddenly overwhelmed by a warm rush of gratitude, asympathy which brought a gush of tears into her eyes to stream down hercheeks. How blind she had been. Of course! They were still bound bytheir gentleman's Word of Honor, given to her on that first night in thelifeship.
What splendid men! All right, so they had their faults; a littleimpractical, dreamers all, but with such nobility of character, trulythey were fit to be the fathers of a proud and noble race. And, in time,with herself to shape and guide them....
She straightened her aching back from bending over the rice reeds,thrust out her scrawny chest, and breathed deeply. She lifted her chinresolutely.
"Katheryn Kittredge," she said firmly. "A woman's place is more thanmerely cooking and cleaning and mending!"
* * * * *
Supper, that evening, was a dinner, a special dinner. She set before thetwo men a whole roast young tom turkey, with a touch of frostedpersimmons mixed with wild honey to enliven the light meat. There was adressing of boiled maise and wild rice, seasoned with wild onion andthyme. There were little red tomatoes, tough but tasty. There were bakedyams. There was a custard of goat milk and turkey eggs sweetened withhoney.
Instead of the usual sassafras tea to which their digestion had finallyadjusted, there was grape wine in their cups. It wasn't a very goodwine, still green and sharp, but the occasion called for it.
Both of them looked at her with wonder, when they came in at her calland saw the table. But they didn't ask any questions. They just startedeating and, for once, they forgot to talk about warp theory.
She, herself, ate little. She was content to look at them. Thelieutenant, tall and strong, big-boned, dark-complexioned, square-faced,white even teeth. Sam, smalled-boned, fair-complexioned, hair bleachedstraw from the outdoor sun. He had been inclined to be a little stoutwhen she first saw him, but now he had that muscular wiriness whichcomes with hard physical work--and clean living. His daughters would bedelicate, lovely, yet strong. The lieutenant's sons....
She watched, in a kind of rapture, the ripple of muscles beneath theirshirts, the way the pillar of the neck arose from strong shoulders tosupport a well-shaped head, the way the muscles of jaws rippled undertheir lean cheeks as they chewed. The way their intelligent eyes flashedappreciation at each savory mouthful.
"It occurs to me, Sam," Lt. Harper said as he washed down some turkeywith a healthy quaff of wine. "We could give a little more attention toscraping up food for Miss Kitty to cook. Now you take this brown rice,for example, we could rig up a polishing mill so she'd have whiterice...."
"Nonsense," Miss Kitty said firmly. "All the proper food value lies inthe brown covering. I will not have the children's eating habits spoiledfrom the beginning...."
Appalled, she realized what she had said. Both men stopped chewing andstared at her.
"What children, Miss Kitty?" Lt. Harper asked, and he was looking at herintently.
She dropped her eyes to her plate. She felt the red flush arising aroundher neck, up into her face. She couldn't face him. Yet, it had to bedone. It must be made quite clear to him, both of them, that....
"_Our_ children," she said distinctly, and felt their eyes boring intothe top of her head. "And I wish you both would stop calling me MissKitty, as if--as if you were kindergarten children and I was the oldmaid school teacher! All three of us are adults, men and a woman. Inspite of what you may think, I am not a great deal older than either ofyou. There will be children! If it works out the way I plan, I believe Ido have time for at least six sons and daughters before I reach ...before my barren years."
She heard Sam's fork clatter down on the table top as he dropped it. Sheheard Lt. Harper's feet scrape, as if he had been about to leap to hisfeet. Without seeing it, she almost felt them look at one another.
Well, she had made it plain enough.
But they didn't say anything.
Suddenly she could stand it no longer. Slowly, in dignity, she arose toher feet and without looking at them she walked, head down, to her door.Then she realized she had perhaps been too crisp, too businesslike aboutit all. A vision of the kind of women they must have known, the kindwhich would arouse their passion, the kind which would make it allunmistakable....
She had a flashing memory of a girl back in college, one smitten with afootball hero, trying to captivate the hero, draw him to her. Onimpulse, Miss Kitty imitated that girl now, and a little tableau sheremembered.
At her doorway she turned, and looked at them over her shoulder. Shelifted her shoulder so that it touched her chin. She drooped her eyeshalf shut.
"My name is Katheryn," she said, and she tried to make her voice huskyinstead of tremulous and frightened. "Call me Kathy, call me Kate, callme Kay."
Both men were staring at her with wide eyes and open mouths as sheclosed her door. She made sure there was no sound of a latch turning todiscourage them.
* * * * *
She undressed herself slowly, and, for the first time other than forbathing, completely. She felt grateful for the time they were givingher. No doubt they were talking it over, man to man, in the way ofcivilized, educated.... She crawled in between the blankets, fresh andsmelling of sunshine from being washed in the clear water of the lake.She was a little regretful she had no perfume; that was something theydidn't put into lifeboats.
She waited.
She heard the low rumble of male voices in the other room. They wereundoubtedly discussing it. She felt grateful relief that their voiceshad not risen. They were not quarreling over her--not yet. She did hopethey would continue to be sensible.
She heard one of the stools scrape on the rough split log floor. Shecaught her breath in a gasp, found her hands were clutching the coversand pulling them tightly up to her chin. She willed her hands to relax.She willed the tenseness out of her rigid body.
She heard the other stool scrape. Surely they were not both....
She heard their feet walking across the floor, the heavy steps of thelieutenant, the lighter, springier steps of Sam. She gritted her teethand clenched her eyes tight shut.
And then she heard the outer door close
softly.
Which one? Which had remained behind?
She waited.
Then she heard footsteps outside. She tried to identify, by sound, whichman was making the noise, but the shuffling of leaves was confusing, asif more than one person were walking outside. And where was the otherman? Why had he made no sound in the outer room? Was he quietly drinkingup the wine--first? Then, distinctly, she recognized two pairs of feetoutside, going farther away, in the direction of the men's bunkhouse.
She could not bear the suspense. She sprang out of bed clutching one ofthe blankets about her. Slowly, soundlessly, she opened her door acrack. She could see no one in the flickering firelight of the room.They had turned out the lights. Or--he had. She opened the door wide.
It had been they, not he. Both men had gone.
* * * * *
Inadvertently something between a sob and a hiccough rattled her