Part 20 (1/2)

Minerva. I'm sure you recognized that 25-50-25 distribution as representing the most drastic case of inbreeding, one which can happen only half the time with line breeding, only a quarter of the time with full siblings, in both cases through chromosome reduction at meiosis. A stockbreeder uses this drastic measure regularly-and culls the defectives and winds up with a healthy stabilized line. I have a nasty suspicion that such culling after inbreeding was sometimes used among royalty back on old Earth-but certainly such culling was not used often enough or drastically enough. Royalism might work quite well if kings and queens were treated like racehorses-but regrettably they never were. Instead, they were propped up like welfare clients, and princelings who should have been culled were encouraged to breed like rabbits-bleeders, feebleminded, you name it. When I was a kid, ”royalty” was a bad joke based on the worst possible breeding methods.

Captain Sheffield investigated next a lower incidence of a bad gene: a.s.sume a lethal gene in the gene pool from whi h Joe and Llita's parents were derived. Being lethal, it could exist in an adult zygote only if it was masked in gene-pair by its benign twin. a.s.sume a 5 percent masked incidence in zygotes-still too high to be realistic for a lethal gene-but check it anyhow. What trend would show?

Parent zygote generation: 100 females, 100 males, each a possible parent for Llita and for Joe-and 5 of the females and 5 of the males carry the lethal gene, masked.

Parent haploid stage: 200 ova, 5 of which carry the lethal gene; 200 spermatozoa, 5 of which carry the lethal gene.

Son-and-daughter zygote generation (possible ”Joes” and possible ”Llitas”): 25 dead through reinforcement of lethal gene; 1,950 carrying the lethal gene masked; 38,025 ”clean” at that site.

Sheffield noted that a hypothetical hermaphrodite had crept in through not doubling his sample size in order to avoid anomaly through odd numbers. Oh, the h.e.l.l with!-it did not change the statistical outcome. No, do do it!-start with a sample of 200 males and 200 females with the same lethal-gene incidence for that site. This gave him: it!-start with a sample of 200 males and 200 females with the same lethal-gene incidence for that site. This gave him: 400 ova, 10 with the lethal gene; 400 spermatozoa, 10 with that lethal gene- -which gave in the next zygote generation (possible ”Joes” and ”Llitas”): 100 dead, 7,800 carriers, 152,100 ”clean”-which changed no percentages but got rid of that imaginary hermaphrodite. Sheffield considered briefly the love life of an hermaphrodite, then got back to work. The numbers became very c.u.mbersome, jumping to the billions in the next zygote generation (i.e., Little Nameless, now just started in Llita's belly)-15,210,000 culled by reinforcement, 1,216.800,000 carriers, 24,336,000,000 ”clean”-and again he wished for a clinic computer and tediously converted the unhandy numbers into percentages: 0.059509 percent, 4.759 percent, 95.18 percent plus.

This showed a decided improvement: approximately 1 defect out of 1,680 (instead of 1 out of 1,600), the percentage of carriers decreased to below 5 percent and the number of ”clean” increased to above 95 percent in one generation.

Sheffield worked several such problems to confirm what he had seen by inspection: A child from complementary diploids (”mirror twins”) had at least as much chance of being healthy as did the offspring of unrelated strangers-plus the happy fact that such a baby's chances were improved by culling at one or more stages by the priest-scientist who had initiated the experiment-an almost certain a.s.sumption and one that made Joe the best possible mate for his ”sister” rather than the worst.

Llita could have her baby.

VII.

Valhalla to Landfall

-the best I could for them, Minerva. Every so often some idiot tries to abolish marriage. Such attempts work as well as repealing the law of gravity, making pi equal to three point zero, or moving mountains by prayer. Marriage is not something thought up by priests and inflicted on mankind; marriage is as much a part of mankind's evolutionary equipment as his eyes, and as useful to the race as eyes are to an individual.

Surely, marriage is an economic contract to provide for children and to take care of mothers while they bear kids and bring them up-but it is much more than that. It is the means this animal, h.o.m.o sap., has evolved-quite unconsciously-for performing this indispensable function and be happy while doing so. and be happy while doing so.

Why do bees split up into queens, drones, and workers, then live as one big family? Because, for them, it works. works. How is it that fish do okay with hardly a nodding acquaintance between mama fish and papa fish? Because the blind forces of evolution made that way work for How is it that fish do okay with hardly a nodding acquaintance between mama fish and papa fish? Because the blind forces of evolution made that way work for them them. Why is it that ”marriage”-by whatever name-is a universal inst.i.tution among human beings everywhere? Don't ask a theologian, don't ask a lawyer; this inst.i.tution existed long before it was codified by church or state. It works works, that's all; for all its faults it works far better by the only universal test-survival-than any of the endless inventions that shallow-pates over the millennia have tried to subst.i.tute for it.

I am not speaking monogamy; I mean all all forms of marriage-monogamy, polyandry, polygyny, plural and extended marriages with various frills. ”Marriage” has endless customs, rules, arrangements. But it is ”marriage” if-and-only-if the arrangement both provides for children and compensates the adults. For human beings, the only acceptable compensation for the drawbacks of marriage lies in what men and women can give each other. forms of marriage-monogamy, polyandry, polygyny, plural and extended marriages with various frills. ”Marriage” has endless customs, rules, arrangements. But it is ”marriage” if-and-only-if the arrangement both provides for children and compensates the adults. For human beings, the only acceptable compensation for the drawbacks of marriage lies in what men and women can give each other.

I don't mean ”Eros,” Minerva. s.e.x baits the trap, but s.e.x is not marriage, nor is it reason enough to stay married. Why buy a cow when milk is cheap?

Companions.h.i.+p, partners.h.i.+p, mutual rea.s.surance, someone to laugh with and grieve with, loyalty that accepts foibles, someone to touch, someone to hold your hand-these things are ”marriage,” and s.e.x is but the King on the cake. Oh, that icing can be wonderfully tasty-but it is not not the cake. A marriage can lose that tasty ”icing”-say, through accident-and still go on and on and on, giving deep happiness to those who share it. the cake. A marriage can lose that tasty ”icing”-say, through accident-and still go on and on and on, giving deep happiness to those who share it.

When I was a rutty and ignorant youngster, this used to puzzle me- (Omitted) -as solemnly ceremonious as I could swing. Man lives by symbols; I wanted them to remember this occasion. I had Llita dress in her notion of fanciest best. She looked like a bloomin' Christmas tree, but I told her she looked beautiful-which she did; brides can't help it. Joe I dressed in some of my clothes and gave them to him. Me I dressed in a preposterous s.h.i.+p's-captain uniform, one I had for use on planets where such nonsense is customary-four wide gold stripes on my cuffs, chest spangled with decorations bought in hockshops, a c.o.c.ked hat Admiral Lord Nelson would have envied, and the rest as fancy as any grand master of a lodge.

I preached 'em a sermon loaded with solemn amphigory most of it lifted from the only church they knew, the established religion of Blessed-easy for me, having been a priest there myself-but I added all sorts of things, telling her what she owed him, telling him what he owed her, telling them both what they owed the child in her belly and the other children they would have-and tacked on, for both but primarily for her, a warning that marriage was not easy, not to be entered into lightly, because there would be troubles they must face together, grave troubles that would require the courage of the Cowardly Lion, the wisdom of the Scarecrow, the loving heart of the Tin Woodsman, and the indomitable gallantry of Dorothy.

That got her to weeping, so Joe started to drip tears-which was just what I wanted, so I had 'em kneel and prayed over them.

Minerva, I make no apology for hypocrisy. I didn't care whether some hypothetical G.o.d heard me or not; I wanted Llita and Joe to hear it-first in that jargon of Blessed, then in English and Galacta, then topped it off by intoning as many lines of the Aeneid as I could remember. When I got stuck I closed with a schoolboy song: Omme bene Sine poena, Tempus est ludendi; Venit hora Absque mora, Libros deponendi!13 -and ended with a resounding ”So mote it be!” Had 'em stand, take each other's hands, and declared that, by the supreme authority vested in me as master of a vessel in s.p.a.ce, they were now and forever husband and wife-kiss her, Joe.

All to a muted background of Beethoven's Ninth- That doggerel got in by accident when I had run out of ”punishment lines” of Virgil and needed a few more impressive sounds. But when I thought about it later, I saw that it translated as appropriately for their honeymoon as for a school holiday. All was indeed well, now that I knew that this joining of siblings could take place sine poena sine poena-without fear of genetic punishment. And ludendi translates as ”amorous play” or ”Eros” as readily as ”gambling” or ”children's play” or any other frolic. And I had declared a four-day s.h.i.+p's holiday, no work for them, no study hours-libros deponendi-starting at once. Sheer accident, Minerva. It was simply a bit of Latin verse that came into my head-and Latin is majestic, especially when you don't understand it.

We had a fancy supper, cooked by me, that lasted about J.F. 45th J.F. 45th ten minutes-for them. Llita could not eat, and Joe reminded me of Johnny's wedding night and why his motherin-law fainted. So I piled a tray with tasty rations and handed it to Joe, and told 'em to get lost; I didn't want to see hide n'r hair of 'em for four days- (Omitted) -on to Landfall as fast as I could pick a cargo. I could not leave them on Valhalla; Jose was not yet able to support a family, and Llita was going to be limited in what she could do, either pregnant or with a new baby. Nor would I be on hand to pick 'em up if they fell down; they had had to go to Landfall. to go to Landfall.

Oh, Llita could have survived on Valhalla, because there they have the healthy att.i.tude that a pregnant woman is prettier than the other sort and that the farther along she is, the more beautiful she is-true in my opinion and especially true in Llita's case. She had been pa.s.sable when I bought her; when we grounded at Valhalla, she was almost five months gone and radiantly beautiful. If she went dirtside unescorted, the first six men she encountered would want to marry her. If she had had one on her back as well as one in her belly, she could have married well the day we arrived; fertility was respected there and the planet wasn't half filled up.

I didn't think she would jilt Joe that quickly, but I did not want her head turned by too much male attention. I did not want to risk even an outside chance that Llita might leave him for some wealthy bourgeois or freeholder; I had gone to much trouble to build up Joe's ego, but it was still fragile and such a blow could kill it. He was standing tall and proud now-but his pride was based on being a married man, with a wife, and a child on the way. Did I mention that I had given them one of my names on their marriage certificate? They were now Friherr og Fru Lang, Josef og Stjerne, for the duration of our stay on Valhalla, and I wanted them to remain Mr. and Mrs. Long for some years at least.

Minerva, I had them take lifetime vows never believing that they would keep them. Oh, ephemerals often stay married for life, but as for the rest-you don't find feathers on frogs very often, and Llita was a naive, friendly, s.e.xy little tart whose short heels would cause her to trip and land with her legs open without planning it-I could see it coming. I did not want it to happen before I had a chance to indoctrinate Joe. Horns need not give a man a headache. But he does need time to grow up and mellow and acquire self-confidence before he can wear them with tolerance and dignity-and Llita was just the girl who could outfit him with a fine rack of antlers.

I got him a job, pearl diver and handyman in a small gourmet restaurant, with a side arrangement for pay-me's to the chef for every Valhalla dish Joe learned to cook correctly. In the meantime I kept her aboard on the excuse that a pregnant woman could not risk the nasty weather until I could get her proper clothing-and don't bother me now, dear; I've got cargo to worry about.

She took it well enough, pouting just a little. She didn't like Valhalla anyhow; it has one-and-a-seventh gee and I had got them used to the luxury of free-fall-easy on her swelling belly, no strain on her arches or her swelling t.i.ts. Now she suddenly found herself much heavier than she had ever been, awkward, and with unhappy feet. What she could see of Valhalla from the entrance lock looked like a frozen slice of h.e.l.l; she was pleased by my offer to take them on to Landfall.

Still, Valhalla was the only new place she had ever been; she wanted to see it. I stalled while I got cargo unloaded, then took her measurements and got her one warm outfit in local style-but I played her a dirty trick; I fetched back three pairs of boots and let her take her choice. Two pairs were plain work boots; the third pair was gaudy-and half a size too small.

So when I did take her groundside, she was wearing too-tight boots, and the weather was unusually cold and bl.u.s.tery-I had watched the predictions. Torheim is pretty in spots, as skyport cities go-but I avoided those parts and took her ”sightseeing” in dull neighborhoods-on foot. By the time I flagged a sleigh and took her back to the s.h.i.+p, she was miserable, and glad to get out of uncomfortable clothes, especially the boots, and into a hot bath.

I offered to take her into town next day but left her free to refuse. She declined politely.

(Omitted) -not quite that bad, Minerva; I simply wanted to keep her in purdah without arousing her suspicions. Actually I had bought two pairs of those gaudy boots, one pair her correct size-and switched them on her at the end of that first day, while she was soaking her poor tired feet. Later I suggested that her trouble had been that she had never worn shoes or boots in her life-so why not wear them around the s.h.i.+p until she got the hang of it?

So she did and was surprised at how easy it was. I explained with a straight face that her feet had swelled the first time, so take it easy, an hour today, a little more each day, until she felt comfortable in them all day long. In a week she was wearing them even if she wore nothing else; she was more comfortable in them than barefooted-not surprising as they were arch-support footwear I had picked most carefully-between pregnancy and the difference in surface gravity of the two planets-point ninety-five gee for her home planet; one point fourteen for Valhalla-she weighed about twenty kilos more than she ever had in her life; she needed needed contoured foot supports. contoured foot supports.

I had to caution her not to wear them to bed.

I took her to town a couple of times while I was selecting cargo, but I coddled her-not much walking or standing around. She came along when I invited her but was always willing to stay aboard and read.

In the meantime Joe worked long hours, only one day off in seven. So just before we left, I had him quit his job and I took my kids on a proper holiday; a sleigh hired for the day, with reindeer instead of power, sightseeing that was truly sightseeing on a clear, sunny day that was almost warm, lunch in the country at a fine restaurant with a view of snowcovered crags of Jotunheimen range, dinner at a still finer restaurant in the city, one with live music and entertainment as well as superb food-and a stop for tea at the little gourmet spot where Joe had labored so that he could be addressed as ”Friherr Lang” by our host, instead of ”Hey, you!”-and have a chance to show off his beautiful, bulging bride.

And beautiful she was, Minerva. On Valhalla both s.e.xes wear, under heavy outdoor clothes, indoor clothes that are essentially pajamas. The difference between those worn by women and by men lies in material, cut, and such. I had bought one party outfit for each of them. Joe looked smart and so did I, but all eyes were on Llita. She was covered from shoulders to boots-but only technically. The cloth of that harem outfit s.h.i.+mmered with changing lights, orange and green and gold, without obstructing the view. Anyone who cared to look could see that her nipples were crinkled with excitement-and everyone cared to look. That she clearly had only a couple of months to go gave her a large bonus vote toward being picked as ”Miss Valhalla.”

She looked grand and knew it, and her face showed her happiness. She was self-confident, too, as I had coached her in local table manners, and how to stand and how to sit and how to behave and such, and she had already got through lunch without a bobble.

It was all right to let her display herself and enjoy the silent, or sometimes not silent, applause; not only were we leaving right away, but also Joe and I had our knives in sight in our boot tops. True, Joe was no knife fighter. But the wolves there didn't know that, and not one was inclined to bother our beautiful b.i.t.c.h when she was flanked by wolves of her own.

-early next morning despite a short night. We loaded all day long, with Llita handling manifests and Joe checking numbers while I made sure I wasn't being robbed. Late that night I had us in n-s.p.a.ce, with my pilot computer sniffing out the last decimal places for the first leg to Landfall. I set the gravistat to bring us slowly down from Valhalla surfacenormal to a comfortable quarter gee-no more free-fall until Llita had her baby-then locked the control room and headed down to my cabin, stinking and tired and trying to kid myself that tomorrow was soon enough for a bath.

Their door was open-their bedroom door, the room that had been Joe's before I turned their rooms into a suite. Door open and them in bed-they had never done that that before. before.

I soon learned why. They piled out of bed and paddled toward me; they wanted me to join their fun-they wanted to thank me . . for that party day, for buying them, for everything else. His idea? Hers? Both? I didn't try to find out; I just thanked them and told them that I was whipped to the red, worn out, and dirty-all I wanted was soap and hot water and twelve hours of shut-eye-and for them to sleep late; we'd set up s.h.i.+p's routine after we were rested.

I did let them bathe me and ma.s.sage me to sleep. That did not break discipline; I had taught them a bit about ma.s.sage, and Joe in particular had a firmly gentle touch; he had been ma.s.saging her daily during her pregnancy-even while working long hours in that restaurant.

But, Minerva, had I not been so bushed, I might have broken my rule about dependent females.

(Omitted) -every tape, every book available in Torheim for a refresher in obstetrics and gynecology, plus instruments and supplies I had not expected to need aboard s.h.i.+p. I kept to my cabin until I had mastered all new art and was at least as skilled in baby-cotching; as I had been as a country doctor on Ormuzd long before.