The Cat Who Walked Through Walls

by Robert A. Heinlein

  "Eh? Chap named Neil Armstrong. With Colonel Buzz Ald-rin."

  "Exactly. An enterprise of NASA, a government bureau, if I recall correctly. But in this universe, my world and that of Lazarus Long, the first trip to the Moon was financed, not by a government, but by private enterprise, headed by a financier, one D. D. Harriman, and the first man to set foot on Luna was Leslie LeCroix, an employee of Harriman. In still another universe it was a military project and the first flight to Luna was in the USAFS Kilroy Was Here. Another- Never mind; in every universe the birth of space travel is a cusp event, affecting everything that follows. Now about the Senior- In my universe he was one of the earliest space pilots. I was for many years archivist of the Howard Families... and from those archives I can show that Lazarus Long has been a practicing space pilot for more than twenty-four centuries. Would you find that convincing?"

  "No."

  Justin Foote nodded. "Reasonable. When a rational man hears something asserted that conflicts with all common sense he will not-and should not-believe it without compelling evidence. You have not been offered compelling evidence. Just hearsay. Respectable hearsay, and in fact true, but nevertheless hearsay. Odd. For me, I have grown up with it; I am the forty-fifth member of the Howard Families to bear the name 'Justin Foote,' the first of my name being a trustee of the Families in the early twentieth century Gregorian when Lazarus Long was a baby and Maureen was a young woman-"

  At this point the conversation fell to pieces. The notion that the darling lady who had comforted me had a son twenty-four centuries old... but was herself a mere child of a century and a half- Hell, some days it doesn't pay to get out of bed, a truism in Iowa when I was young and still true in Tertius over two thousand years later. (If it was!) I had been perfectly happy with Minerva on one shoulder and Galahad on the other and Pixel on my chest. Aside from bladder pressure.

  Maureen reminded me of another discrepancy. "Justin, something else frets me. You say that this planet is a long, long way in space and time from my home-over two thousand years in time and over seven thousand light-years in distance."

  "No, I do not say it because I am not an astrophysicist. But that accords with what I have been taught, yes."

  "Yet right here today I hear idiomatic English spoken in the dialect of my time and place. More than that, it is in the tall-corn accent of the North American middle west, harsh as a rusty saw. Ugly and unmistakable. Riddle me that?"

  "Oh. Strange but no mystery. English is being spoken as a courtesy to you."

  "Me?"

  "Yes. Athene could supply you with instantaneous translation, both ways, and the party could be in Galacta. But fortunately through a decision by Ishtar many years back, English was made the working language of the clinic and the hospital. That this could be done derives from circumstances around the Senior's last rejuvenation. But the accent and the idiom- The accent comes from the Senior himself, reinforced by his mother's speech, and nailed down by the fact that Athene speaks that accent and idiom and won't speak English any other way. The same applies to Minerva, since she learned it when she was still a computer. But not all of us speak English with equal ease. You know Tamara?"

  "Not as well as I would like to."

  "She is probably the most loving and most lovable person on the planet. But she is no linguist. She learned English when she was past two hundred; I think she will always speak broken English... even though she speaks it every day. Does that explain the odd fact that a dead language is being spoken at a family dinner party on a planet around a star far distant from

  Old Home Terra?"

  "Well- It explains it. It does not satisfy me. Uh, Justin, I have a feeling that any objection I can raise will be answered ... but I won't be convinced."

  "That's reasonable. Why not wait awhile? Presently, without pushing it, the facts that you find hard to accept will fall into place."

  So we changed the subject. Hazel said, "Dear one, I didn't tell you why I had to run an errand... or why I was late. Justin, have you ever been held up at the downstream teleport?"

  'Too often. I hope someone builds a competing service soon. I would raise the capital and mount it myself, if I weren't so comfortably lazy."

  "Earlier today I went shopping for Richard-shoes, dear, but don't wear them until Galahad okays it-and replacements for your suits I lost in the fracas at the Raffles. Couldn't match the colors, so I settled for cerise and jade green."

  "Good choices."

  "Yes, they will suit you, I think. I had finished shopping and would have been back here before you woke but- Justin, they were queued up at the teleport, so I sighed and waited my turn... and a line jumper, a rancid tourist from Secundus, sneaked in six places ahead of me."

  "Why. the scoundrel!"

  "Didn't do him a speck of good. The bounder was shot dead."

  I looked at her. "Hazel?"

  "Me? No, no, darling! I admit that I was tempted. But in my opinion crowding into a queue out of turn doesn't rate anything heavier than a broken arm. No, that was not what held me up. A bystanders' court was convened at once, and I dum near got co-opted as a juror. Only way I could get out of it was to admit that I was a witness-thought it would save me time. No such luck, and the trial took almost half an hour."

  "They hanged him?" asked Justin.

  "No. The verdict was 'homicide in the public interest' and they turned her loose and I came on home. Not quite soon enough. Lazarus, damn him, had got at Richard, and made him unhappy and ruined my plans, so I made Lazarus unhappy. As you know."

  "As we all know. Did the deceased tourist have anyone with him?"

  "I don't know. I don't care. I do think killing him was too drastic. But I'm a panty waist and always have been. In the past, when someone shoved ahead of me in a queue, I've always let it go with minor mayhem. But queue cheating should never be ignored; that just encourages the louts. Richard, I bought shoes for you because I knew that your new foot could not use the right shoe you were wearing when we arrived here."

  "That's true." (My right shoe has always-since amputation-had to be a custom job for the prosthesis. A living foot could not fit it.)

  "I didn't go to a shoe shop; I went to a fabricatory having a general pantograph and had them use your left shoe to synthesize a matching right shoe through a mirror-image space warp. It should be identical with your left shoe, but right-handed. Right-footed? Dexter."

  "Thank you!" "I hope it fits. If that darned line jumper hadn't got himself killed practically in my lap, I would have been home on time." I blinked at her. "Uh, I find I'm astonished again. How is this place run? Is it an anarchy?"

  Hazel shrugged. Justin Foote looked thoughtful. "No, I wouldn't say so. It is not that well organized."

  We left right after dinner in that four-place spaceplane- Hazel and I, a small giant named Zeb, Hilda the tiny beauty, Lazarus, Dr. Jacob Burroughs, Dr. Jubal Harshaw, still another redhead-well, strawberry blonde-named Deety, and still another one who was not her twin but should have been, a sweet girl named Elizabeth and called Libby. I looked at these last two and whispered to Hazel, "More of Lazarus's descendants? Or more of yours?"

  "No. I don't think so. About Lazarus, I mean. I know they aren't mine; I'm not quite that casual. One is from another universe and the other is more than a thousand years older than I am. Blame it on Gilgamesh. Uh... at dinner did you notice a little girl, another carrot top, paddling in the fountain?" '

  "Yes. A cutie pie."

  "She-" We started to load, all nine of us, into that four-place spaceplane. Hazel said, "Ask me later," and climbed in. I started to follow. That small giant took my arm firmly, which stopped me, as he outmassed me by about forty kilos. "We haven't met. I'm Zeb Carter."

  "I'm Richard Ames Campbell, Zeb. Happy to meet you." "And this is my mom, Hilda Mae." He indicated the china doll.

  I did not have time to consider the improbability of his assertion. Hilda answered, "I'm his stepmother-in-law, parttime wife, and sometime mistress, Ric
hard; Zebbie is always not quite in focus. But he's sweet. And you belong to Hazel, so that gives you the keys to the city." She reached up, put her hands on my shoulders, stood on tiptoes, and kissed me. Her kiss was quick but warm and not quite dry; it left me most thoughtful. "If you want anything, just ask for it. Zebbie will fetch it."

  It seemed that there were five in that family (or sub-family; they were all part of the Long household or family, but I did not have it figured out): Zeb and his wife Deety, she being that first strawberry blonde whom I had met briefly, and her father, Jake Burroughs, whose wife was Hilda, but who was not mother of Deety-and the fifth was Gay. Zeb had said, "And Gay, of course. You know who I mean."

  I asked Zeb, "Who is Gay?"

  "Not me. Or just as a hobby. Our car is Gay."

  A sultry contralto said, "I'm Gay. Hi, Richard, you were in me once but I don't think you remember it."

  I decided that the Lethe field had some really bad side effects. If I had at some time been in a woman (she expressed it that way, not I) with a voice of that utterly seductive quality but I could not remember it... well, it was time to throw myself on the mercy of the court; I was obsolete.

  "Excuse me. I don't see her. The lady named Gay."

  "She's no lady, she's a trollop."

  "Zebbie, you'll regret that. He means I am not a woman, Richard; I'm this car you are about to climb into-and have been in before, but you were wounded and sick so I'm not hurt that you don't remember me-"

  "Oh, but I do!"

  "You do? That's nice. Anyhow I'm Gay Deceiver, and welcome aboard."

  I climbed in and started to crawl through the cargo door back of the seats. Hilda snagged me. "Don't go back there. Your wife is back there with two men. Give the girl a chance."

  "And with Lib," Deety added. "Don't tease him. Aunt Shar-pie. Sit down, Richard." I sat down between them-a privilege, except that I wanted to see that space-warped bathroom. If there was one. If it was not a Lethe dream.

  Hilda settled against me like a cat and said, "You have received a bad first impression of Lazarus, Richard; I don't want it to stay that way."

  I admitted that on a scale of ten he scored a minus three with me. -

  "I hope it doesn't stay that way. Deety?" "Day in and day out Lazarus averages closer to a nine,

  Richard. You'll see."

  "Richard," Hilda went on, "despite what you heard me say,

  I don't think badly of Lazarus. I have borne one child by him ... and I go that far only with men I respect. But Lazarus does have his little ways; it is necessary to spank him from time to time. Nevertheless I love him."

  "Me, too," agreed Deety. "I have a little girl by Lazarus and that means I love and respect him or it would not have happened. Correct, Zebadiah?"

  "How would I know? 'Love, oh careless love!' Boss Lady, are we going somewhere? Gay wants to know."

  "Report readiness."

  "Starboard door sealed, irrelevant gear ready." "Portside door sealed, seat belts fastened, all systems normal."

  'Time Corps Headquarters via Alpha and Beta. At will, Chief Pilot."

  "Aye aye. Captain. Gay Deceiver, Checkpoint Alpha. Execute."

  "Yassuh, Massuh." The bright sunlight and green lawn beside the Long House bunked away to blackness and stars. We were weightless.

  "Checkpoint Alpha, probably," Zeb said. "Gay, do you see THQ?"

  "Checkpoint Alpha on the nose," the car answered. 'Time Corps HQ dead ahead. Zeb, you need glasses."

  "Checkpoint Beta, execute." The sky blinked again. This time I could spot it. Not a planet but a habitat, perhaps ten klicks away, perhaps a thousand-in space, with a strange object, I had no way to guess.

  Zeb said, 'Time Corps Headquarters, ex- Gay Scram!"

  A nova bomb burst in front of us.

  XXV

  Schrodinger's Cat

  "God's bones!" the car moaned. "That one burned my tail feathers! Hilda, let's go home. Please!" The nova bomb was now a long way off but it still burned with intense white light, looking like Sol from out around Pluto.

  "Captain?" Zeb inquired.

  "Affirmative," Hilda answered calmly. But she was clinging to me and trembling.

  "GayMaureenExecute!" We were back on the grounds of the Romanesque mansion of Lazarus Long and his tribe.

  "Chief Pilot, please beep Oz annex and tell them to disembark; we won't be going anywhere soon. Richard, if you will slide out to the right as soon as Jake is out of your way, that will let our passengers climb out."

  I did so as quickly as Dr. Burroughs cleared the way. I heard Lazarus Long's voice rumbling behind me. "Hilda! Why have you ordered us out of the car? Why aren't we at Headquarters?''

  His tone reminded me of a drill sergeant I had had as a boot, ten thousand years ago.

  "Forgot my knitting, Woodie, had to go back for it."

  "Knock it off. Why haven't we started? Why are we disembarking?"

  "Watch your blood pressure, Lazarus. Gay just proved that she was not being a Nervous Nellie when she asked me to break our usual trip to THQ into three jumps. Had I used our old routine, we would all glow in the dark."

  "My skin itches," Gay said fretfully. "I'll bet I would make a Geiger stick rattle like hail on a tin roof."

  "Zebbie will check you later, dear," Hilda said soothingly, then went on to Lazarus: "I don't think Gay was hurt; I think none of us was. Because Zeb had one of his bad-news flashes and bounced us out of there almost ahead of the photons. But I am sorry to report, sir, that Headquarters isn't there anymore. May it rest in peace."

  Lazarus persisted, "Hilda, is this one of your jokes?"

  "Captain Long, when you talk that way, I expect you to address me as 'Commodore.'"

  "Sorry. What happened?"

  Zeb said, "Lazarus, let them finish unloading and I'll take you back and show you. Just you and me."

  "Yes indeed, just you two," the car put in. "But not me! I won't go! I didn't sign up for combat duty. I won't let you close my doors; that means you can't seal up, and then you can't move me. I'm on strike."

  "Mutiny," said Lazarus. "Melt her down for scrap."

  The car screamed, then it said excitedly, "Zeb, did you hear that? Did you hear what he said? Hilda, did you hear him? Lazarus, I don't belong to you and never did! Tell him, Hilda! You lay one finger on me and I'll go critical and blow your hand off. And take all of Boondock County with me."

  "Mathematically impossible," Long remarked.

  "Lazarus," said Hilda, "you shouldn't be so quick to say 'impossible' when speaking of Gay. In any case, don't you mink you've been in the doghouse enough for one day? You get Gay sore at you and she'll tell Dora, who'll tell Teena, who'll tell Minerva, who will tell Ishtar and Maureen and Tamara, and then you'll be lucky to get anything to eat and you won't be allowed to sleep or go anywhere."

  "I'm henpecked. Gay, I apologize. If I read you two chapters from Tik-Tok tonight, will you forgive me?"

  "Three."

  "It's a deal. Please tell Teena to ask mathematicians working on Operation Galactic Overlord to meet me asap in my quarters in Dora. Please tell all others involved with Overlord that they are advised to come to Dora, eat and sleep aboard. I don't know when we will leave. It could be a week but it could be anytime and there might not be even ten minutes warning. War conditions. Red alert."

  "Dora has it; she's relaying. What about Boondock?"

  "What do you mean 'What about Boondock?'"

  "Do you want the city evacuated?"

  "Gay, I didn't know you cared." Lazarus sounded surprised.

  "Me? Care what happens to groundcrawlers?" the car snorted. "I'm simply relaying for Ira."

  "Oh. For a moment there I thought you were developing human sympathies."

  "God forbid!"

  "I'm relieved. Your simple self-centered selfishness has been a haven of stability in an ever-shifting world."

  "Never mind the compliments; you still owe me three chapters."

  "Certainly, Gay; I prom
ised. Please tell Ira that, so far as I know, Boondock is as safe as anywhere in this world... which ain't saying much... whereas, in my opinion, any attempt to evacuate this ant hill would result in great loss of life, still greater loss of property. But it might be worthwhile to risk it just to crank up their lazy metabolisms-Boondock today strikes me as fat, dumb, and careless. Ask him to acknowledge."

  "Ira says, 'Up yours.'"

  "Roger, and the same to you; wilco, they make a damn fine stew. Colonel Campbell, I'm sorry about this. Would you care to come with me? It might interest you to see how we mount an emergency time manipulation. Hazel, is that okay? Or am I crowding in on your pidgin again?"

  "It's all right, Lazarus, as it is no longer my pidgin. It's yours and that of the other Companions."

  "You're a hard woman, Sadie."

  "What can you expect, Lazarus? Luna is a harsh teacher. I learned my lessons at her knee. May I come along?"

  "You're expected; you are still part of Overlord. Are you not?"

  We walked about fifty meters across the lawn to where was parked the biggest, fanciest flying saucer any UFO cultist ever claimed to have seen. I learned that this was "Dora," meaning both the ship and the computer that ran the ship. I learned too that the Dora was the Senior's private yacht, that it was Hilda's flagship, and that it was a pirate ship commanded by Lorelei Lee and/or Lapis Lazuli and crewed by Castor and Pollux, who were either their husbands or their slaves or both.

  "They're both," Hazel told me later. "And Dora is all three. Laz and Lor won sixty-year indentures from Cas and Pol in a game of red dog shortly after they married them. Laz and Lor are telepathic with each other, and they cheat. My grandsons are smart as whips and as conceited as Harvard grads, and they always try to cheat. I tried to break them of this nasty habit when they were still too young to chase girls, by using a marked deck. Didn't work; they spotted my readers. But their downfall arose from the fact that Laz and Lor are smarter than they are and even more deceitful."

  Hazel shook her head ruefully. "It's a wicked world. You would think that a youngster I had trained would be instantly suspicious when dealt three aces and the odd king in a hand of red dog... but Cas was greedy. He not only tapped the pot when he could not cover it, he pledged his indentures to fill the gap.