SUGAR PLUM
by
R. BRETNOR
Illustrated by ASHMAN
[Sidenote: If not for two items, this would be a funny story--the AtomicAge brought back the 1925 vogue, and inhibition is not shatter-proof.]
On a clear spring evening in 2189, Charles Edward Button came home halfan hour late for his supper, tossed his hat to the robot butler who cameout from behind the DoItAll, and announced that he had just bought aplanet.
His wife, Betty, was looking small and long-suffering on a plasticreproduction of a Victorian love-seat, and her cousin Aurelia, a large,handsome woman, was standing behind her protectively.
"Of course," he informed them, "it's not a _big_ planet. But what abargain! With real oceans, and two moons, and--"
"Real estate, real estate, real estate!" Cousin Aurelia's tart voice cuthim off in mid-sentence. "You know what's come of every one of yourinvestments. Call the man _right now_ and tell him you want your moneyback!"
"I'm afraid it's too late." Charles avoided her eye. "I bought it up ata tax-auction and--well, the government never refunds."
"I _thought_ so. A planet nobody wants. Probably all run down, withswamps and deserts, and in some dreadful, shabby district where theneighbors have squirmy tentacles, or eyes on stalks, or big, nastybeaks!"
"It isn't at all. It's in a good neighborhood--only two systems awayfrom the Inchcapes' new summer planet. A little remote, but that meansmore privacy." He took a catalogue out of his pocket. "'Parcel 71,'" heread. "'Sugar Plum, a Class IV planet'--that means it's like Earth, onlybigger--'claimed 8/12/85 by Space Captain Alexander Burgee, underPlanetary Homestead Act of 2147 (amended.)' And here's his descriptionof the place where he landed: 'Neat as a pin, fine climate, full ofcritters and fish, quite uninhabited.' He was lost in Deep Space, poorfellow. That's why they sold it."
* * * * *
Betty smiled faintly. "The Inchcapes call their planet Bide-A-Wee. Ithink Sugar Plum's ever so much nicer. But--but can we afford it?"
"We certainly can't!" fumed Cousin Aurelia. "We'll put it back on themarket and salvage whatever we can."
"No, we won't," Charles said firmly. "And it's not just a summer resort.We're pulling up stakes to live there all year round."
Betty gasped.
Cousin Aurelia straightened up, bristling.
"I have made up my mind," Charles went on. "I have done a lot of seriousthinking." He pointed at the heavily framed neo-daguerreotype portraitson the walls. "Our ancestors rediscovered the only _true_ principles,those of the great Nineteenth Century. They brought the Second VictorianAge into being. Civilization reached its peak, its full flowering. Butnow all is crumbling before the poisonous onslaught of modernism. We whohave not been corrupted must seek out a refuge. That, Cousin, is why Ibought Sugar Plum."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Cousin Aurelia. "There may be changes everywhereelse, but never in Boston."
"Ha!" Charles looked at his watch. "Solomon!" he called out.
The butler came bowing out of the DoItAll nook, where the servantsstayed when they were switched off. He wore a swallowtail coat andknee-breeches, and had kinky white hair. Made to order, he was CousinAurelia's idea.
"Yassuh, Marse Charles. Here Ah is."
"Solomon," ordered Charles, "tune in Watson Widgett."
Betty paled, uttering a polite little scream.
"Are you _mad_?" cried Cousin Aurelia. "I've heard about him. I'll nothave that man in _my_ home!"
Charles squared his shoulders. "Cousin, may I remind you that _I_ amhead of this house, and that we are _Victorians_? It's high time youfound out what's going on. Solomon!"
"Yass_uh_."
There was a click from the DoItAll, a brief flash of light and a figureappeared in their midst, a cheerful young man in loose trousers andshirt, without coat, waistcoat, cravat, or even a pair of suspenders. Hewas grinning at Cousin Aurelia.
"Boys and girls," he was saying, "Wyoming has outlawed corsets! Thefolks in Siskiyou, California, have given women the vote! And listen tothis. The Bikini swimsuit--just a wisp and a twist--is back on themarket!" He winked loathsomely. "Yes, indeed, our prize fake Victorians,our second-hand stuffed shirts, are due for a fall. Here's the best newstoday, from a cute little lady right here in old Boston." He unfolded apaper. "Dear Watsy, When I first found your program, I was a real Mrs.Biedermeyer. Marriage was something we gentlewomen tried to endure whilewe knitted an anti-macassar. It wasn't supposed to be fun. Then a friendtipped me off to your--"
At this point, Cousin Aurelia emitted a shriek, rolled her eyes andcrumpled to the carpet.
Charles gestured and the commentator vanished with a click and a flash.Betty scurried out and returned with the smelling salts.
Presently, Cousin Aurelia regained her senses, shivered, and said, "It'stoo awful for words. If it were not for Betty, I would surely have leftlong ago. As it is, I shall go where you go, to protect her, of course."
Then she permitted Betty to help her to her feet and out of the room.
"Solomon!" Charles called loudly.
"Yassuh, Marse Charles."
"Set the table for two," Charles commanded. "I shall dial the dinnermyself."
He felt very adventurous and masterful. Dialing dinner without aid wasfine training in self-reliance.
* * * * *
Six weeks later, the three of them stood on the bridge of the spacefreighter _Beautiful Joe_, watching Sugar Plum as the vessel entered anorbit around it.
But Charles Edward Button didn't feel at all masterful, or evenadventurous.
They stood next to Possett, the skipper, a great, hairy man with goldteeth, a bad squint, and an air of gloomy cunning about him. After herfirst look at Possett, Cousin Aurelia had locked herself in her cabin,allowing no one but Betty to approach her, and threatening to subsist onthe half-dozen cases of Dr. Stringfellow's Vegetable Remedy she keptunder her berth. Charles, however, had been sure that Possett's heartwas both kindly and chivalrous.
"Take those tall stories of his," he said more than once. "Betty, theydon't mean a thing. Old spacedogs love to kid tenderfeet. Imagine tryingto make me believe that it's dangerous out here! And all that malarkeyabout Captain Burgee being a pirate or something!"
They stared at Sugar Plum, at its small polar ice caps, its seas, itscontinents greener than Earth's, its wandering white clouds. Not manyhours before, it had been only a dust mote, a pinpoint of light in thevoid. Now it filled half the sky. And suddenly Charles understood theimmensities, the unspeakable stretches of space in which Boston hadvanished.
Shivering, he wished he were home, stiffly safe in a curlicued chair,with Solomon dialing his dinner for him.
"Nice piece of property," grunted Possett around his cigar. "Too badabout--" He broke off with a shrug.
"About what?" asked Charles, alarmed.
"I wouldn't want to be in your shoes if Burgee comes around and findsyou'd run off with his planet."
"Burgee? He was lost out in space!"
"His kind don't stay lost. Chances are he's hiding out from the law. Butit's none of my business. Just thought I'd warn you."
Charles laughed weakly. "You c-can't frighten me. I'm sure there aren'tany pirates in space any more."
Possett turned to his weasel-faced mate. "Loopy, call the New Texasspaceport. Get Mac on the screen."
The mate nodded. He twiddled a dial and punched at a switch. The screenglowed. After some seconds, the face of a red-haired person appeared,looking rather disgusted.
"New Texas, New Texas," came a voice. "I hear you, _Beautiful Joe_. Whatthe hell do you want?"
"Dude aboard wants some info," said Possett. "Wants to know what Burgeedid for a living--Alexander Burgee. Also, are t
he coppers still tryingto find him?"
The face frowned. "Possett, you know damn well Burgee was a pirate. Youknow he's been listed as lost. Now quit wasting my time. New Texas out."
The face vanished. The mate snickered nastily. And Charles just stoodthere gaping.
"A real pirate!" squeaked Cousin Aurelia. "Wh-what would he do? Would he_kill_ us?"
"Might do anything. But--" eying her, Possett leered--"he's like me.Likes 'em well fattened up. Lady, you
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