Spice Pogrom

by Connie Willis

  There was a knock on the door. Charmaine went to answer it and came back in with her lawyer and Stewart.

  “Well, you’ve gotten yourself in a nice mess, Chris,” Stewart said. “Mr. Nagisha showed us the chip. How could you jeopardize your apartment by letting some stranger move in?”

  “You told me to do whatever Mr. Okeefenokee wanted. He wanted Hutchins to move in. Did you show him the NASA requisition form?”

  “There isn’t one,” Charmaine’s lawyer said, looking happier than Stewart. “And we don’t have a prayer of taking this to court when he’s got two cute kids to testify for him. I guess we’ll have to go with my plan after all.”

  “What do you mean there isn’t one?” Chris said.

  “I was afraid there’d be a great deal of red tape,” Stewart said, “getting you cleared and so on…”

  “NASA requisitioned dozens of people’s apartments. None of them had any trouble getting cleared. You told NASA he was staying with you, didn’t you? So you’d get the compensation?”

  “It doesn’t really matter which apartment was requisitioned, since we’re getting married.”

  “It matters to me,” Chris said. “I’m being evicted.”

  “No, you’re not,” Charmaine’s lawyer said cheerfully. “We’ve come up with a plan. All you have to do is marry Hutchins. Then he doesn’t have to pay rent because he’s a relative.”

  “I can’t,” Chris said. “He’s in Houston.”

  “He doesn’t have to be here,” Stewart said. “We can do a beam-up call, take the vows over the phone, transmit the papers and have them signed on both ends. I’ve cleared it with NASA.”

  “I don’t understand,” Chris said bewilderedly. “How will getting married now help? We weren’t married when he stayed here.”

  “Sony law allows occupancy before closing,” Charmaine’s lawyer said, looking positively jovial.

  “What do you say?”

  “It’s the only way we can save your apartment,” Stewart said. “You’re not really getting married. There’s an automatic buyer-backout clause if the deal isn’t closed in twenty-four hours, which of course it won’t be. You’ll have your apartment back, and with the requisition money I get from NASA we’ll be able to buy that apartment next door to Mother’s and turn this into a rental.”

  “What if Mr. Nagisha finds out and tries to stop it?”

  “He won’t,” Charmaine’s lawyer said. “Omiko sent him down to Luigi’s for the sutorippu, and I paid Molly and Bets off.”

  “I want to talk to Hutchins.”

  “You can talk to him during the wedding,” Stewart said, looking relieved. “I’ll call NASA.”

  “Omiko’s out getting a Shinto priest,” Charmaine’s lawyer beamed. “I’ll go get the marriage contracts drawn up. We’ll have you married in nothing flat.” They both hurried out.

  “Gee, this is so exciting,” Charmaine said. “I’ve got a veil from the wedding number you can borrow. I’d loan you the wedding dress to go with it, only it’s not a dress exactly.”

  Charmaine’s lawyer came back in with the marriage contracts and one of Mr. Nagisha’s evicted cousins. “He’s a notary,” her lawyer said, and Mr. Nagisha’s cousin pulled a seal out of his pocket.

  “It’ll serve him right,” he said. “All we were doing was stir-frying a little blowfish.”

  “You can sign these now, and then we’ll transmit them over the phone. It’s a simple death-do-you-part deed, no lease option, no appraisal. Just a minute. I’ve got to get another witness.”

  He came back in with the old man in the baseball cap. Chris signed the copies and then watched carefully as the old man countersigned them, but his signature was completely illegible. Charmaine finished witnessing the contracts and scurried out to get the veil.

  Omiko came in with the Shinto priest. Molly and Bets were right behind her, wearing frilly lavender dresses and large lavender bows in their hair. Molly was carrying a basket of cherry-blossom petals.

  “We’re going to be in your wedding,” Bets said. “Molly’s the flower girl, and I get to be your maid of honor.”

  “Isn’t that sweet?” Stewart said, patting Molly on the head. Chris saw with satisfaction that he was mashing her lavender hair bows. “Someday we’ll have two sweet little girls just like these two.”

  “Over my dead body,” Chris said.

  “Here’s your bouquet,” Charmaine said. She had changed back into her strapless red dress. She shoved a bouquet of white silk flowers and ribbons into Chris’s hands. “It’s really a pastie,” she said, putting the veil on Chris’s head, “so I stuck it on one of Mr. Okeefenokee’s flashlights.”

  “The call’s coming through,” Charmaine’s lawyer said from the hall.

  “I want to talk to Hutchins first,” Chris said.

  “I really don’t see why that’s necessary,” Stewart said. “He’s already agreed to marry you.”

  “I’m not going through with this unless I have a chance to talk to him.”

  “It’s almost four o’clock. We’ve got to do this in the next half hour.”

  “Fine,” Chris said, taking off her veil. “Tell Molly and Bets they can have the apartment. I’ll move in with Charmaine and Omiko.”

  “And lose the apartment!” Stewart said, looking aghast. “I mean, go ahead and talk to him if you have to, but make it quick. If we don’t finish this up within the next fifteen minutes, we’ll have to wait for satellite relay.”

  Charmaine’s lawyer said, “It’ll be a minute or so,” and went into the living room and shut the door. Chris locked it and then went over to the screen. It brightened and Hutchins’s image appeared in front of the screen. He was wearing the clothes he’d left the apartment in, and he looked tired and drawn.

  “Are you all right?” Chris said.

  “Yeah,” he said, frowning. “They started interrogating Okee as soon as we got here, but they’re not getting anywhere. He’s clammed up completely.” He rubbed his hand across his forehead tiredly.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know,” Chris said. “Marry me, I mean. It’s nothing but a real-estate deal.”

  “It’ll make Stewart happy.”

  “Yeah,” Chris said ruefully. “And Mr. Okeefenokee. He kept saying we were going to get married tonight, and here we are.”

  “Yeah,” Hutchins said thoughtfully. “How come they were able to put this wedding together so fast? I thought Sony marriage contracts were really complicated.”

  “I don’t know. Charmaine’s lawyer was the one who came up with the idea.”

  “Charmaine’s lawyer, huh? Maybe Okee’s smarter than we thought.”

  “We really can’t wait any longer,” Stewart said, opening the door. “We’ve got to start the ceremony.”

  He came over to the screen and pressed the transmit button. Hutchins’s image disappeared, and Charmaine’s lawyer held each page of the contract up to the screen by the corners for a full thirty seconds. Stewart pushed another button, and a flat-screen image of Hutchins appeared. He and two men in uniform signed and then held up the copies of the pages the same way.

  “Gee, this is so exciting,” Charmaine said. She put the veil over Chris’s head again and then dashed into the bathroom to get a box of Kleenex, which she passed out to Omiko, the old man in the baseball cap, and Mr. Nagisha’s cousin.

  “I heard she had to get married,” Bets said to the old man in a stage whisper.

  Molly said, “Would you pleathe get out of the way?” and began throwing cherry-blossom petals on everyone.

  Charmaine’s lawyer said, “Okay,” and Hutchins’s holographic image appeared in front of the screen. He was still holding the copies of the contract.

  “Join hands,” the Shinto priest said. Hutchins transferred the contracts to his left hand and held out his right. Chris put her hand carefully where the image of his hand was. He closed his hand around her fingers but she couldn’t feel anything.

  The priest made a speech
in Japanese and then said, “Christine Arthur, do you understand the terms of the contract?”

  “I do,” Chris said.

  “Peter Hutchins, do you under—”

  “I do,” he said.

  “This contract has been duly signed and witnessed. I declare it legally binding.”

  “Good,” Hutchins said. “Now do I get to kiss the bride?” He bent over her.

  Stewart hit the hang-up button, and Hutchins’s image disappeared. “Good. I’m glad that’s over,” he said happily. He turned to Charmaine’s lawyer. “Now we can take these down to Mr. Nagisha.”

  “In a minute,” the lawyer said. He turned to Charmaine. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, and then I want to talk to you.” She followed him and Stewart out onto the landing.

  Chris was still watching the screen. “Ahem,” the old man in the baseball cap said, and Chris turned around, but he was talking to Bets. “I’ve been watching you for several days. I’m directing a new movie and I’d like to cast you in it.”

  “You don’t want her,” Molly said. “Thyee dyeth her hair.”

  “I do not,” Bets said, putting a defensive hand up to her curls. “My blond hair is natural, which is more than I can say for your lisp.”

  “My lisp is not phony!” Molly shouted, and grabbed a handful of yellow curls.

  “I want both of you,” he said, separating them. “You’re perfect for the parts. I’ve got the contracts in my office downtown.”

  “I want my name first on the credits,” Bets said.

  “I want star billing above the title,” Molly said.

  He herded them out. They nearly collided with Charmaine.

  “ ’Scuse me,” Charmaine said. “What was that all about?”

  “That was Spielberg,” Chris said. “He just offered Molly and Bets the lead in his new movie.”

  “Who? The old guy on the stairs? You’re kidding. You’d think he’d know better after living here a whole week.” She looked at Chris. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” Chris said.

  “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we all go down to Luigi’s for the early show? Kind of a wedding breakfast.”

  “Chris has got to stay here until the buyer-beware clause expires,” Stewart said.

  “What do you think she’s gonna do?” Charmaine said. “Jump off Sony and parachute down to earth?”

  “Chris has come dangerously close to losing her apartment once today. I don’t want anything to interfere with that annulment clause. The safest thing is for her to spend the next twenty-four hours in her apartment.”

  “Okay, we’ll bring the wedding breakfast here. I’ll call Luigi and have him deliver some teriyaki ham and eggs and have Omiko bring the girls over and…”

  “Can I speak to you?” Charmaine’s lawyer said, taking hold of her hand and practically yanking her out of the living room.

  “I’m not going to let you jeopardize your apartment a second time,” Stewart said. He went over to the couch. “I think the best thing for us to do is get married immediately. I’ve asked the lawyer to draw up the marriage contracts. Where did this Hutchins sleep? In Ohghhifoehnnahigrheeh’s room?”

  “No,” Chris said. “He slept in here. Mr. Okeefenokee didn’t understand the concept of ‘room.’ He thought it meant any space that happened to be available. Hutchins slept up there.”

  Stewart looked up at the sleep restraint. “In that? Where did you sleep?”

  “On the couch.”

  “I can’t believe you let him sleep up there with you not five feet away from him.”

  “Neither can I,” Chris said. She got her nightshift and robe from the end of the couch. “You can sleep in Mr. Okeefenokee’s room.”

  “No!” Charmaine said from the doorway. Her lawyer was with her. They were holding hands. “I mean, ’scuse me, but gee, Mr. Okeefenokee bought all that stuff for you, and it’s a shame to let it go to waste.”

  “What stuff?” Stewart said.

  “If you want to be able to testify that Chris didn’t leave her apartment for the whole twenty-four hours,” Charmaine’s lawyer said, “you should be the one to sleep out here. Chris can sleep in the bedroom. That way she can’t leave without your knowing it.”

  “I thought you said this plan was foolproof,” Stewart said anxiously.

  “It is,” Charmaine’s lawyer said, grinning.

  “Good night,” Chris said, and went into Mr. Okee-fenokee’s room, still carrying the bridal bouquet, and shut the door.

  Charmaine immediately slid the shoji screen open a few inches. “ ’Scuse me,” she said. “Can I come in? I got something to show you.” She sidled through the door, shut it behind her, and flashed her hand at Chris. “It’s a diamond. We’re engaged.”

  Chris laid the bouquet on the nightstand and started moving boxes off the bed. “I thought you said you weren’t going to marry him because he thought marriage was a real-estate deal.”

  “That was before—” She stopped. “Well, I mean, I think it was pretty romantic the way he got you and Hutchins together.”

  “We’re not exactly together,” she said. “Hutchins is in Houston and I’m locked in my room.”

  “Yeah, but Mr. Fenokee’s going to…” She stopped again.

  Chris looked up. “Mr. Fenokee’s going to what?”

  Charmaine fiddled with her ring. “Well, gee, I mean, he’s got that space program, right? Maybe he can talk the NASA people into sending Hutchins back up here. Or maybe you could go down there.”

  “I don’t think so,” Chris said sadly. “Stewart’ll see to that. Anyway, Sony’s got a thirty-day travel-permission law, and the marriage expires in”—she looked at her watch—“about twenty-three hours.”

  “Gee, that’s right. I better go. I promised Omiko I’d be there for the wedding number. Gee, I almost forgot my pastie.” She picked it up, untaped it from its makeshift handle, and laid the flashlight back on the nightstand. She pointed at the boxes on the bed. “Why don’t you wear that black lace nightie instead of that shift thing?” She flounced out. Chris shut the door and locked it.

  She put on her nightshift and her robe and moved the stack of boxes off the bed. “I’ve just had a great idea, Chris,” Stewart called through the door. “I was lying there looking at the hammock, and it suddenly occurred to me that Ohghhifoehnnahigrheeh was right. That is available space. Since we’re going to rent this place anyway, we won’t need those high ceilings. We can turn this into two apartments. I’m going to go downstairs right now and talk to Mr. Nagisha about it.”

  She could hear him slide the door to the apartment shut, lock it, and start down the stairs. I hope he trips over the old man in the baseball cap and falls the whole flight, she thought, and then remembered that the old man had gone off with Molly and Bets.

  She turned off the light and got into bed. There was something hard under her pillow. It’s probably one of Omiko’s tassels, she thought, and turned the light back on. It was her subvocalizer.

  “Oh,” she said, and held it to her heart.

  “Mr. Nagisha thinks it’s a great idea,” Stewart said through the door. “He’s going to do it to all the apartments in the building. Good night, darling.”

  She sat up against the headboard, put the subvocalizer on, and fastened the receiver in her ear. It probably doesn’t work except at short distances, she thought. She turned off the light.

  It was completely-dark in the room. There was a narrow line of light under the shoji screen, but it only seemed to intensify the darkness.

  (Pete,) she whispered without making any noise. (Are you there?)

  (I’m here,) he said, so close he could have been sitting beside her. (Where are you?)

  (In Mr. Okeefenokee’s room. My subvocalizer was under his pillow.)

  (Where’s Stewart?)

  (In the living room on the couch. He wants to make sure I don’t do anything to jeopardize the annulment clause.)

  (Is everything okay?) Hutchins sai
d. (You’re not going to be evicted?)

  (No.)

  (Well, that’s good. At least you don’t have to sleep out on the stairs with Leopold and Loeb.)

  (Molly and Bets aren’t here. They got a part in Spielberg’s movie.)

  He didn’t answer for a while. (There isn’t any justice, is there?) he said finally.

  (No.) Chris said. (I wish you were here.)

  (So do I. Chris, look, they’ve got us locked up tight here until the negotiations are over. I tried to talk Okee into telling NASA I had to come back up to Sony to get the space program, but he said, “No. Be alone on hahnahmoon.” Well, we’re sure as hell alone.)

  (Is he still refusing to talk?)

  (No, he’s been talking a blue streak ever since we got on the shuttle. And I have a sinking feeling I know why the Eahrohhs came. I don’t think it was to negotiate a space program or anything else. I think they just like space travel. Okee had that lump of a nose of his pressed to the port the whole way down, and he told the NASA linguistics team the exciting story of our takeoff and landing twice. He also regaled them with a description of how Omiko orbits her colonies and danced “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” for them. Spielberg blew his big chance. Okee’s a lot better than Molly and Bets. He told the linguistics team about you, too. He said you reminded him of his wife.)

  (I know,) she said, and wished she had a Kleenex.

  (He said I reminded him of himself. No, what he actually said was that I was like him. He then said the reason he’d wanted us to get married was because he knew we liked each other, which shoots our “one word, one meaning” theory all to hell.)

  (But if that’s true, maybe he understands the word “space,” too, and there really is a space program.)

  (Maybe.) There was silence for a minute. (He told the linguistics team he’d have a demonstration of the space program for them in twenty-four hours. They asked him what he needed for this demonstration, and he said a room with high ceilings. So they stuck us in an old shuttle hangar with a guard and a couple of army cots, and he went right to sleep on one of the cots.)