I Will Fear No Evil

14

Jake Salomon handed Joan Eunice into the Judge's copter, got in beside her and locked the door. Quickly they were airborne. The passenger compartment was separate from the pilot's space and well soundproofed; conversation was possible. But he said nothing and tended to keep his eyes away from her.

Joan let it go on only a short time. "Jake dear? Are you angry?"

"Eh? Heavens, no. What made you think so?"

"You seemed quite distant. I thought you might be annoyed with me for having kissed Judge McCampbell and dear Mr. Train."

"Your business."

"Oh, Jake. Please don't scold me even by your manner. I've had a difficult day, especially the time I had to spend with my goddam granddaughters. It hurts, lake, to- be hated. To know that someone wants you dead. Yet I had to try to appear serene and ladylike. Be a credit to Eunice. Jake, it isn't easy to he a lady—after almost a century of being male. Do you know how I manage it at all? I say to myself, ‘What would Eunice do?'—then I try to do it. Kissing those sweet and helpful men— lake, Fm not used to kissing men. You could have trained me but you won't give me more than a good-night peck. I said to myself, ‘I must thank them—and what would Eunice do?' I decided that she would kiss them the best she knew how. So I tried, even though I don't know how. Well? Is that what Eunice would have done?"

"Well...yes, Eunice would have kissed them." (He knows darn well I would have, dear.) (I know. He's being difficult.) (So keep punching. Tell him how wonderful he is. Joan, men always -believe it when you tell them they are wonderful.)

"Then I don't see why you are being cold with me, Jake. I thought you were truly wonderful all day long, the way you handled things and protected me. I wanted to kiss you for being so wonderful—and would have, and will!—if only you would let me. Was it because I didn't stop to put my robe on before I kissed them?"

"Well...it would have been more ladylike."

(Punch hard on this one, dearie—for Jake knows darn well that I spread skin on him the very first time I kissed him... and later I kissed him bare naked the first time it was safe to. He didn't fight—he was eager.) (I'll try.)

Miss Smith looked worried, which did not suit her features. "I suppose so. But I don't know how to be a lady, Jake; the rules have changed so much. Eunice often startled me by what she did and how she dressed—yet I am certain that she was always a perfect lady. Tell me this, Jake, honestly and candidly, and I'll treat your answer as Gospel and use it as a yardstick for future behavior—because I do want to be a credit to Eunice; I want ‘Joan Eunice' to be the perfect lady that Eunice was. Under those exact circumstances and being just as anxious to show appreciation to two sweet and wonderfully helpful gentlemen... would Eunice have put this street robe on first? Or would she have spread her sweet skin on them and let them cuddle her a bit if they wanted to—and they wanted to, I'm sure you noticed. Think about it, Jake. You knew Eunice better than I did; we know that—so give me a straight answer, because I'm going to use it as a guide in trying to be Eunice. Would she have played safe? Or would she have given herself?"

Jake Salomon gave a sigh that was almost a groan. "Hell, you did exactly what Eunice would have done. That's what upset me."

Joan sighed. "Thank you, Jake, I feel better." She loosened her seat belt, moved closer to him, ran her thumb down the magnostrip of her robe. "Can't get this pesky thing off in here. Kiss me, Jake, kiss me better than they did. Kiss me and cuddle me and tell me that Eunice would be proud of me."

"Joan!"

"Don't shame me, lake. I'm a girl now and I need to be kissed so hard we'll forget I kissed those other two. Call me ‘Eunice,' dear; please do, it's my name and I want to hear you call me by it and tell me I'm a good girl."

He groaned. "Eunice!"

She turned her face up. "Kiss me, darling."

Trembling, he gave in.

The kiss went on and on. It took Joan only seconds to turn it from tender to rugged, nor did he hold back. (Eunice? I'm going to faint.) (I'm not going to let you, sweetheart; I've waited a long time for this!)

Eventually Jake broke, but she stayed close and he continued to hold her. She sighed and touched her hand to his face. "Thank you, Jake dear—for this, and for everything."

"Thank you. ...unice. Joan Eunice."

"Let mc be ‘Eunice' a while longer. Am I a good girl? Do I do credit to her?"

"Uh... yes!"

"I tried. Jake dear, do you believe in ghosts? I think Eunice must have been here with us. I couldn't have done that well without her help. It often seems so."

"Uh, it's an interesting thought." (Hmmph! We ought to tickle him for that. Joan, if you tickle him under his short ribs, he comes unstuck. Helpless.) (I'll remember. But not today.) "In any case, she would have been proud of you. You're a sweet girl."

"I mean to be. To you. I love you, lake."

He hesitated only a heartbeat. "I love you—Eunice. And Joan Eunice."

"I'm glad you made it both of us. Jake dearest, you're going to have to marry me. You know that, don't you?"

"What? Oh, heavens, dear, don't be silly. I love you—but there's too much age difference."

"What? Oh, fiddlesticks! I know I'm almost a quarter ofa century older than you are. But it no longer shows. And you understand me and no other man possibly could."

"Huh! I mean I am too much older than you."

(Joan, don't let him talk that way! Tell him men and liquor improve with age. Or some such. Anyhow, he was feeling quite young a few minutes ago—I noticed. Did you?) (Yes. Now quiet, please.)

"Jake, you are not old. Goodness, I know what ‘old' is! You're a classic, Jake—and classics improve with age. And...just minutes ago, you were feeling quite young. I noticed."

"Uh... possibly. But none of your sass—youngster."

She chuckled. "Jake, it's nice to be a girl to you. I won't argue, I'll wait. In time you will realize that you need me and I need you, and that no one else will do for either of us. Then you can make an honest woman of me."

"Harrumph! That might be more than I could manage, even with a marriage license."

"Rude darling. I can wait. You can't escape me, Jake. Eunice won't let you."

"Well...I'm durned if I'll argue; it would just make you stubborn. In either of your personae. My old friend Johann was as stubborn a man as I've ever met—and Eunice was just as stubborn in her own sweet way. And, dear, I never know which one you are. Sometimes I think you've acquired that split personality your doctors were afraid of."

(Get him off this subject!) (I will, dear—but not by being jumpy about it. Aren't we ever going to tell him?) (Yes, of course. But not soon, Joan. Not, till we're in the clear. Remember those straps.) "Jake darling, I'm not surprised that you feel that way about me—because I do myself. Oh, nothing psychopathic, just the odd situation I am in. You've known me how long? A quarter of a century."

"Twenty-six -years, pushing twenty-seven."

"Yes. And while I was never given to copping feels from female employees—would you say that ‘horny old bastard' was an honest description of me?"

"I've never known your behavior toward women to be other than gentlemanly."

"Oh, come now, Jake! You're talking to Johann at the moment. Level with me."

Salomon grinned. "Johann, I think you were a horny old bastard right up to the day we took you in for surgery."

"That's better. Years after I was benched in the matter first for social reasons, the fact that an old man looks a fool if he behaves like a young stud, and later through illness and physical incapacity—years after I was benched my interest in a pretty face or a pretty leg was unflagging. Then I acquired Eunice's healthy young body. Female. Look at me Jake. Female."

"I've noticed!"

"Not the way 1 have! Even though you've kissed me—a real kiss and I loved it, dear—you can't have noticed the way 1 have been forced to. I'm cyclic now, Jake, ruled by the Moon; I've menstruated twice. Do you know what that means?"

"Eh? Natural phenomenon. Healthy."

"It means that the body controls the brain as much as the brain controls the body. I'm tempery and inclined to tears just before my period. My feelings, my emotions, even my thoughts are female—yet I have almost a century of male emotions and attitudes. Take my pretty little nurse-companion, Winnie—and would you like to take her?"

"Uh... damn you, Johann! She's a nice girl. Fifth Amendment."

"She is indeed a nice girl. But because I'm Eunice as well as Johann I know how she feels. She's as female as a cat in heat—and you're an old bull, Jake, and dominant, and if you wanted to take Winnie, she wouldn't put up more than token resistance."

"Joan Eunice, don't talk nonsense. I'm three times her age." (Boss, what are you getting at?) (I'm not sure but I'm getting there.) (Well, don't get Winnie knocked up on the way. I thought we were saving Jake for us.) (Don't be a pig, little piglet. Winnie's a nurse; she sees to her contras as carefully as she cleans her teeth.) "Jake dear, I'm not much older than Winnie in my body... and you've known and loved this body, even though I have no memory of it. We know that Eunice was always a lady—so how did you ever manage to get started with her? Did you rape her?" (Hell, no, I raped him—but he was a pushover.)

"That's a most unfair question!"

"It's a very female question. Knowing you from many years of association—and knowing Eunice both from some years of association but most importantly from now having her body and glands and hormones and deepest emotions—I suspect that you were far too proud to make a pass at her so she found some way to make clear that you were welcome. Once you were certain that Eunice was not trying to make a fool of you—that settled it. Well? Am I right?" (If he says No, he's lying. It took five minutes, sister—and would have been all over in ten but we were interrupted. Had to wait till next day. Remember the mermaid getup? Had to scrub it off before I went home; Jake and I ruined it—and I had to tell Joe a sincere fib.) (Did he believe you?) (I think so. He was painting which means he hardly notices anything else.)

"Jake, are you going to answer? Or let me draw my own conclusions—possibly mistaken?"

"I could answer that it's none of your business!"

"And you would be right and Johann apologizes. But not Eunice. Jake, that's what Eunice's body tells me must have happened. But I can't he certain and I do want to be like her and if that is not what she would have done because it is not what she did—then tell me. I'm not asking for intimate details." (Aw, get the juicy parts, dearie—! want to know how it seemed to him, every sweaty detail. I already know how it seemed to me—and I'll tell you.) (Don't be so right-now, darling—I'm trying to gentle him.)

"Joan Eunice—no, ‘Eunice!' You always have had the damnedest way of getting your own way."

"Is that an answer, Jake? I don't have Eunice's memory." (Says who? Boss, I've figured out some­thing—and it's not flatworms. Everyone has erasable memory and non-erasable memory, just like Betsy—and that non-erasable part is the me that's still here now that I'm dead. ‘Soul' maybe. Names don't matter; it's that part that's not just glands and plumbing.) (Save the philosophy until we're alone in bed tonight, Eunice; I'm trying to cope with a man—and it's heavy going.) (Do you think we're going to. be alone in bed tonight? Want to bet?) (I don't know—and I'm scared.) (Don't be scared. When it happens, you recite the Money Hum and I'll drive. Once around the course and you'll be ready to solo. Except that I'll always be with you. Know sumpin, Boss- honey? It's even nicer to be you than it was to be your secretary. Or will be, once we're back on ground rations.) (Huh?) (Soul talk, dear—means sex. I had it for fourteen years—and I'm hungry.) (I had it over five times that long—I'm at least five times as hungry.) (Could be—you're a horny bitch, Boss.)

Jake finally answered, "Joan, I don't think it's fair to Eunice's memory for me to tell tales about her—but I'll concede your point, assuming that you want to learn, for your own guidance, as much as possible about how she behaved. Eunice was honest and straightforward"—(I'm devious as a snake-but that's what 1 wanted Jake to believe.)—"and she apparently decided that she liked me that much... and made it easy for me. It was neither rape nor seduction." (It was both, but I did not want him to think so. He's a darling Joan. When he's gentled enough—slip the bit into his mouth. But let him think he asked for it.) (I'll try. Meantime I'm still doing this emotional strip-down—and you listen instead of interrupting; you might learn something about me.) (I'll be good, Boss. Mostly.)

"I felt certain that it must have been that way, Jake—knowing you, knowing her. But that's only one side of me as I am now—the ‘Eunice' side. The other side is Johann, with almost a century of male orientation I told you I now understand Winnie, as a girl—because now I am a girl. But there Is still Johann, alone with Winnie every day—and it's all I can manage to keep my hands off her." (Hmmph! You don't keep your hands off her.) (I said, Shut up! I haven't let it get past heavy cuddle. If you and I ever stroll Gay Street, you shameless mermaid, it will be dessert, not the pièce de résistance.) (That piece won't resist!) (Hush up!) "Do you understand, Jake? Old Johann—me!—thinks that Winnie is quite some dish."

"Well... I understand it—in Johann."

"I wonder if you would understand it in Eunice? Jake, how do you feel about homosexuality?"

"I don't feel anything about it. Never been interested."

"Not even curious? Jake, I'm a full generation older than you are. When I was a kid, homosexuality or ‘perversion' as it was called, was hardly even a myth; I never heard of it until long after I was centered on girls. Oh, I don't mean there wasn't any; I know now that there was, lots of it. But it was spoken of seldom and kept under cover. When I was fifteen, a man made a pass at me—and I didn't know what he was after; he just scared me.

"Would a fifteen-year-old boy today be that innocent? You know he wouldn't be; there are books and magazines and pictures—and other boys—to make certain that he understands even if he doesn't join in. The Government just misses endorsing it as a way to hold down our outlandish overpopulation—would endorse it openly, I feel sure, if it were not that a large percentage disapprove of it publicly while practicing it in private. It reminds me of that weird period in my youth when people voted dry and drank wet and the bootlegger was more sought after than the black-market butcher is today. How long has it been since the last ‘sex offense' was prosecuted?"

"Rape by violence is still prosecuted; I can't recall any others in the last twenty years. Blue laws about sex are dead letters; Supreme Court decisions have made them impossible to prosecute. Correction: Unlicensed pregnancy is a Federal offense under the General Welfare' clause...but I've often wondered what would happen if a case were ever allowed to reach the Supreme Court."

"That's the only ‘sex crime' which was not a crime when I was a kid, Jake. But I was talking about the ‘crime against nature' which is no longer a crime; it isn't even a peccadillo, it arouses less disapproval than smoking. However, by the time homosexuality was socially acceptable, my attitudes were long frozen. But I wonder what Eunice thought about it? Did you ever discuss it with her?"

Jake snorted. "Believe me, Johann—sorry, Joan Eunice—that was not a subject we had time for!"

"I suppose not. Nor did she discuss it with me." (Fibber!) "But she gave me a gentle reprimand about it once."

"So? How?"

"Oh, one day before I was bedfast, a messenger delivered something to my office. He was a real nancy-pants—lots of makeup, false eyelashes, curled hair, and waved his hips. A high, girlish lisp and oh so graceful in his gestures. After he was gone I made some intolerant remark and Eunice told me gently that, while she didn't find such one-way boys attractive, she didn't see anything wrong in a man loving man, or a woman loving a woman." (Hey! I don't remember any such conversation.) (So I'm a liar. But you could have said it—and I'm making a point.)

"Yes, that sounds like Eunice. She was tolerant of people's frailties."

"My point is that, Eunice being the age she was, she was certain to be indifferent to—perhaps I should say ‘understanding about'—what Johann thought of as ‘perversities.' But here's what I'm getting at, Jake; I find Winnie sexually attractive. I also find Alec Train and Judge McCampbell sexually attractive. Startled me. And you—whichdid not startle me. But today was the first time I have been thoroughly kissed by very male men. And I liked it. Shook me." (How about dear Doctor?) (None of your lip, sweet lips—we don't tell Jake that one.)

Joan Eunice went on, "There is my dilemma. Which tune am I being homosexual? With Winnie? Or with you three very male bulls?"

"Joan, you ask the damnedest questions."

"Because I'm in the damnedest situation a man ever found himself in. I'm not the ordinary sex change of a homo who gets surgery and hormone shots to tailor his male body into fake female. I'm not even a mixed-up XXY or an XYY. This body is a normal female XX. But the brain in it has had a man's canalization and many years of enthusiastic male sex experience. So tell me, Jake, which time am I being normal, and which time perverse?"

"Uh... I'm forced to say that your female body controls."

"But does it? Psychologists claim that sexual desire and orgasm take place in the brain—not in the genitals. My brain is XY."

"I think you are trying to confuse the witness."

"No, Jake, I'm the one who is confused. But possibly not as confused as the young people today. You know they claim to have six sexes."

"Heard of it. Nonsense."

"Not entirely. I've been doing lots of reading during my de-facto house arrest, trying to find out who I am, what I am, how I should behave. They label these so-called sexes both by behavior and physiology, with a new school of psychology—when wasn't there a new one?—to account for them. The six are ortho-male, ortho-female, ambi-male, ambi-female, homo-male, homo-female—and some list a seventh, the solos or narcissists. Even an eighth, the non-sex, the neuters, both physical and psychological."

"And I say it's nonsense."

"I do, too, but not for the same reason. From my unique experience, embracing both physiological sexes directly and not by hearsay, I say there is just one sex. Sex. SEX! Some people have so little sexual drive that they might as well be neuters no matter whether they are concave or convex. Some people have very strong sexual natures—and again the shape of the body doesn't figure. Such as my former self, horny long after sex had abandoned me. Such as you, darling—taking a lovely young married woman less than half your age as your mistress. Such as Eunice—happily married at home, I think—"

"Yes, she was. I felt guilty about it."

"But not too guilty to share her riches. Jake, I wouldn't speak to you if you had scorned her. I was about to name Eunice as my third example of a person strongly sexed. Enough sexual drive in her body—I know!—foranything. Enough love in her heart—I feel certain—for any number.

I know she loved me, even though she was- too warmly empathic to mock me by offering me what I could not accept—and did give me, lavishly, the only thing I could accept—her beauty, for my eyes. Jake, I think Eunice was limited in her love only by time. She kept you happy—"

"She certainly did!"

"I'm just as certain she did so without depriving her husband. Jake, do you have reason to believe that she limited herself to you—and her husband?"

"Uh— Damn you, Johann! I don't know. But I don't think she had time. Uh, I used up all the sneak-out time she could manage."

(Look, Boss, I'll tell you about every time I struck a blow for equal rights. Don't pester Jake.) (You're missing the point, Eunice. I'm forcing Jake to move Saint Eunice off her pedestal—that's the only way we'll ever get him.)

"How do you know? Can you be sure she didn't tell you the same sort of little white lies she told her husband? For that matter, Jake, Joe may have been as proud of his antlers as an old buck deer—the percentage of husbands who are pleased by their wives' adulteries has been climbing steadily in this country at least since nineteen-fifty—see any of the kinseys. That he loved her we both are certain. That does not prove he tried to keep her in a cage. Or wanted to."

"Joan, I would just as lief you didn't run down Eunice to me."

"Jake darling! I am not running her down. I am trying to find out what you know about her, so that I can model myself more closely after her. I loved her—and love her still more today. But if you told me that you knew she was mistress to six other men, a whore on the side, and playing girl games in her spare time—I—well, I've never known you to lie to me, Jake, so I would try to go and do likewise. You haven't told me much but what you have told me confirms what I believed—that Eunice was a perfect lady, with enough love in her heart to love three men at once and give each of them exactly what he needed to make him happy." (Thank you, Boss. Shall I bow?) (Quiet, little darling.) "But not a wanton, never a slut, and—while she wasn't prudish—I doubt if Winnie would have interested her." (Now wait one frimping minute!) (I'm telling him what he wants to bear, dear—if you want Winnie, we'll keep it out of Jake's sight.) (Who wants Winnie? You dirty old man!) (We both do—but it may be smart never to let it hatch. Dearest, Winnie wouldn't look at us with a man around.) (Want to bet?)

Joan sighed. "Jake, with my unique double inheritance it would be easy for me to turn ambi-female. I'm not going to, because I don't think Eunice would. With the deep. female drive this body has—bloodstream brimming with hormones and gonads the size of gourds is the way it feels—I could easily become ‘No-Pants Smith, the Girl Most Likely To.' Very easily—as Johann Smith was an old vulgarian who regretted only the temptations he had been forced to pass up. But I'm not going to do that, either, as Eunice did not behave that way. But if I don't get married fairly soon, I'm going to find it hard to stay off the tiles."

"Joan, I love you—but I am not going to marry you. It's out of the question."

"Then you had better help my granddaughters to swindle me."

"Eh? Why?"

"You know why. A multimillionaire who is young and female stands as much chance of getting a good husband as that well-known tissue-paper dog had of chasing that asbestos cat through Hell. Lots of them in our country—and all they ever got were Georgian princes, riding masters, and other gigolos. I don't want one, won't have one. I'd rather be broke, like Winnie, and take what love I can find. Jake, besides the fact that you understand me and no one else can, you'd still be in my top ten because my money does not impress you. Quite aside from wonderful fact that I love you and you love me, any marriage broker would call us a perfect match."

"Hardly. There's still the matter of age—body ages. Joan, a man who marries at my age isn't taking a wife, he's indenturing a nurse."

"Oh, frog hair, lake! You don't need one and I'll lay even money that you'll stay strong and virile right through my breeding period. But when you do need one I'll nurse you. In the meantime we'll sing. ‘September Song'—you lead, I'll harmonize."

"I sing bass. And I won't sing ‘September Song.'"

"Jake? We could buy you a new body. When you need it."

"No, Joan. I've had a long run and a good one, most of it happy, all of it interesting. When my time comes, I'll go quietly. I won't make the mistake you did, I won't let myself fall into the hands of the medics, with their artificial kidneys and their dials and their plumbing. I'll die as my ancestors died."

She sighed. "And you called me stubborn. I've taken you up on a high mountain and shown you the kingdoms of the earth—and you tell me it's Los Angeles. All right, I'll quit pestering you—and humbly accept any love you can spare. Jake, will you take me out on the town and introduce me to eligible young men? You can spot a fortune hunter—I think Eunice may be too naive, too inclined to think the best of people." (Rats, Boss, I bought me a gigolo with my eyes open...and, since I wasn't kidding myself, I bought top quality.) (I know you did, darling—but the Joe Brancas in this world are as scarce as the Jake Salomons.)

"Joan Eunice, if you want me to escort you, I'll be honored... and I'll try to keep pascoodnyaks away from you."

"I'll hold you to that, you not-so-very-old darling, lake, I asked if you believed in ghosts. Do you have any religion?"

"Eh? None. My parents were Orthodox, I think you know. My Bar Mitzvah speech was so praised that I had to fight to study law instead of being trained as a rabbi. But I shook off all that before I entered college."

"Parallels me, somewhat. My grandparents came from the south of Germany, Catholic. So the priests had a crack at me first. Then we moved to the Middle West before I started school, and Papa, who was never devout, decided it would be better—better for business, maybe—to be a Baptist. So I got the Bible-Belt routine, with hellfire and damnation and my sins washed away with full immersion.

It was the Bible-Belt indoctrination that stuck, particularly the unconscious attitudes.

"But, consciously and intellectually, I shucked off all of it when I was fourteen—probably the only real intellectual feat of my life. I became an aggressive atheist—except at home—and scorned to believe in anything I could not bite. Then I backed away from that—atheism is as fanatic as any religion and it's not my nature to be fanatic—and became a relaxed agnostic, unsure of final answers but more patient. I stayed that way three-quarters of a century; I left religion to the shamans and ignored it."

"My own policy."

"Yes. But let me tell you something that happened while I was dead."

"What? You were never dead, Joan—Johann, damn it!—you were merely unconscious."

"I wasn't, eh? With no body, and my brain cut off from the world and me not even aware of myself? If that is not death, Jake, it is an unreasonable facsimile. I told you that I thought Eunice's spirit has often given me a hand."

‘1 heard you. I ignored it''

"You stiff-necked old bastard. I haven't taken up seances and such. But here is what happens. When I am in a quandary—often, these days—I ask myself, ‘What would Eunice do!' That's all it takes, Jake; I know at once. No ectoplasm or voices from a medium—just instant knowledge not based on my own experience. Such as this afternoon when I decided in a split second to kiss Alec and Mac. No hesitation—you saw! That's not the way old Johann would behave... and yet you tell me I haven't missed behaving like Eunice even once. That's why it feels as if her sweet spirit were guiding me. Any comment?"

"Mmm ... No. You do behave like her... other than when you tell me flatly that you're speaking as Johann. But I don't believe in ghosts. Johann, if I thought I had to go on being Jake Salomon throughout all eternity, I'd—well, I would register a complaint at the Main Office."

"Let me tell you what happened to me at the Main Office."

"Huh?"

"While I was dead, Jake. I was in this—place. There was a very old Man with a long white beard. He had a big book. He looked at me, then consulted His book, then looked back at me. He said, ‘Son, you've been a bad boy. But not too bad, so I'm going to give you another chance. Do your best and don't worry; you'll have help.' What do you think, Jake?" (What is this, Boss? Did it happen to you, too?) (Eunice, if it happened to you, it happened to me; it's the same thing. And you are my help, beloved. My guardian angel.) (Oh, frimp you! I'm no angel, I'm me.) (A very earthy angel, beloved darling—just what I need.) (Love you, too, you dirty old man.)

Salomon answered slowly, "Anthropomorphism. Right out of your Bible-Belt Sunday school."

"Oh, certainly. It had to be in symbols I could understand. If I had been a creature from around Proxima Centauri, the old Man and the beard might have been a Thing with eight tentacles and faceted eyes. Cliché symbols are nothing against it; I've never thought it was a phys­ical experience. Men live by symbols, Jake. That—symbolic——experience was as real to me as any physical experience. And allow me to point out that I do have a second chance and I have, and am having, lots of help—from you especially, from Mac and Alec, from doctors and nurses... and also from something inside that tells me instantly, in any difficult situation, exactly how Eunice would handle it. I don't say it's Eunice... but it's not Johann; he wouldn't know how. Well?"

Salomon sighed. "Of the inventing of gods there is no end. And almost always anthropomorphic. Joan, if you are going in for that sort of self-delusion, why not go whole hog and join a nunnery?"

"Because Eunice would not. Although she might enjoy revamping a monastery."

Jake chuckled. "She might, at that."

"Maybe I should try it—since you are so damn chinchy about making me an honest woman. More likely I'll change my name again and disappear and wind up in a crib in Bombay. Will you come visit me, Jake?"

"No. Too hot."

"Chinchy. Mean old Jake. You wouldn't refuse to go see Eunice because of heat."

"Eunice would never wind up in a crib."

"No, she wouldn't. So I have to go on being a lady even though it's quite a strain on old Johann."

"Poor you. All you have is youth, beauty, and half as much money as the I.R.S."

"And you, Jake. I could lose the rest and still be rich." (I was wondering if you would see that opening. Sister, you don't need my advice; I think I'll take a vacation.) (You promised to stay!) (Yes, Boss darling. I can't leave; we're Siamese twins. But even if I could, I'd stay because I want to.) (Eunice beloved, I have never been happier in my life.) Joan Eunice moved closer to Jake. "Jake dear, I have never been happier in my life."

A brassy voice from the cockpit said, "I am about to swing for landing. Please secure seat belts."

Salomon answered, "Seat belts fastened and now being tightened. Proceed with landing." To Joan he said, "Straighten up, Eunice—and do snap up that magno."

Joan Eunice pouted her lip and obeyed.