nounced, with a slight belch, "so out of those street clothes and into this, luv."

Her idea? Or his? Hers, I decided, before long. While Ian's simple, wholesome lechery was as clear as a punch in the jaw, he was basically rather cubical. Not so Betty, who was utterly outlaw. I didn't care, as it moved in the direction I wanted to go. Bare feet are as provocative as bare breasts, although most people do not seem to know it. A female packaged only in a lava-lava is far more provocative than one totally nude. The party was shaping up to suit me, and I would depend on Ian to shake off his sister's chaperonage when the time came. If necessary. It seemed possible that Betty would sell tickets. I didn't fret about it.

I got smashed.

Just how thorough a job I did on it I did not realize until next morning when I woke up in bed with a man who was not Ian Tormey.

For several minutes I lay still and watched him snore while I poked through my gin-beclouded memories, trying to fit him in. It seemed to me that a woman really ought to be introduced to a man before spending a night with him. Had we been formally introduced? Had we met at all?

In bits and pieces it came back. Name: Professor Federico Farnese, called either "Freddie" or "Chubbie." (Not very chubby- just a little pot from a swivel-chair profession.) Betty's husband, Ian's brother-in-law. I recalled him somewhat from the evening before but could not now (next morning) recall just when he had arrived, or why he had been away... if I ever knew.

Once I placed him I was not especially surprised to find that I (seemed to have) spent the night with him. The frame of mind I had been in the night before no male would have been safe from me. But one thing bothered me: Had I turned my back on my host in order to chase after some other man? Not polite, Friday-not gracious.

I dug deeper. No, at least once I decidedly had not turned my back on Ian. To my great pleasure. And to Ian's, too, if his commerits were sincere. Then I had indeed turned my back but at his request. No, I had not been ungracious to my host, and he had

been very kind to me, in exactly the fashion I needed to help me forget how I had been swindled, then tossed, by Anita's gang of selfrighteous racists.

Thereafter my host had had some help from this late arrival, I now remembered. It is never surprising that an emotionally troubled woman may need more soothing than one man can supply- but I could not remember how the transaction was achieved. Fair exchange? Don't snoop, Friday! An AP cannot empathize with or understand the various human copulation taboos-but I had most carefully memorized all the many, many sorts while taking basic doxy training, and I knew that this one was one of the strongest, one that humans cover up even where all else is wide open.

So I resolved to shun even a hint of interest.

Freddie stopped snoring and opened his eyes. He yawned and stretched, then saw me and looked puzzled, then suddenly grinned and reached for me. I answered his grin and his grab, ready to cooperate heartily, when Ian walked in. He said, "Morning, Marj. Freddie, I hate to interrupt but I'm already holding a cab. Marj has to get up and get dressed. We're leaving at once."

Freddie did not let go of me. He simply clucked, then recited:

"A birdie with a yellow bill

hopped upon my windowsill.

He cocked a shiny eye and said,

'Ain't you ashamed, you sleepyhead?'

"Captain, your attention to duty and to the welfare of our guest does you credit. What time must you be there? Minus two hours? And you lift at high noon as the clock is striking the steeple. No?"

"Yes, but-"

"Whereas Helen-your name is Helen?-is kosher if she presents herself at the gate called strait no later than minus thirty minutes. This I will undertake."

"Fred, I don't like to be a spoilsport but it can take a bloody hour to get a cab here, as you know. I have one waiting."

"How true. Cabbies avoid us; their horses don't like our hill. For that reason, dear brother-in-love, last night I hired a rig, pledging a purse of gold. At this very moment old faithful Rosinante is under this house in one of the janitor's stalls, gaining strength on nubbins of maize for her coming ordeal. When I phone down, said janitor, well plied with bribes, will harness the dear beast and fetch wain and her to entrance. Whereupon I will deliver Helen to the gate no later than minus thirty-one. To this end I pledge the pound of flesh nearest your heart."

"Your heart, you mean."

"I phrased it most carefully."

"Well-Marj?"

"Uh-Is it all right, Ian? I don't really want to jump out of bed this second. But I don't want to miss your ship."

"You won't. Freddie is reliable; he just doesn't look it. But leave here by eleven; then you could make it on foot if you had to. I can hold your reservation after check-in time; a captain does have some privileges. Very well; resume whatever it was you were doing." Ian glanced at his watch finger. "Nine up. Bye."

"Hey! Kiss me good-bye!"

"Why? I'll see you at the ship. And we have a date in Winnipeg."

"Kiss me, damn it, or I'll miss the bloody ship!"

"So untangle yourself from that fat Roman and mind you don't get spots on my clean uniform."

"Don't chance it, old son. I will kiss Helen on your behalf."

Ian leaned down and kissed me thoroughly and I did not muss his pretty uniform. Then he kissed the top of Freddie's head on his little bald spot and said, "Have fun, chums. But get her to the gate on time. Bye." Betty glanced in at that point; her brother gathered her in with one arm and took her away.

I turned my attention back to Freddie. He said, "Helen, prepare yourself." I did, while thinking happily that Ian and Betty and Freddie were just what Friday needed to offset the puritanical hypocrites I had lived with far too long.

Betty fetched in morning tea precisely on the moment, so I assume that she listened. She made a lotus on the bed and had a cuppa with us. Then we got up and had breakfast. I had porridge with thick cream, two beautiful eggs, Canterbury ham, a fat chop, fried potatoes, hot muffins with strawberry jam and the world's best butter, and an orange, all washed down with strong black tea with sugar and milk. If all the world broke fast the way New Zealand does, we wouldn't have political unrest.

Freddie put on a lava-lava to eat breakfast but Betty didn't so I didn't. Being crèche-raised, I can never learn enough about human manners and etiquette but I do know that a woman guest must dress-or undress-to match her hostess. I'm not really used to skin in the presence of humans (the crèche was another matter) but Betty was awfully easy to be with. I wondered if she would snub me if she knew that I was not human. I didn't think so but I was not anxious to test it. A happy breakfast.

Freddie delivered me to the passenger lounge at eleven-twenty, sent for Ian, and demanded a receipt. Solemnly Ian wrote one. Again Ian belted me into the acceleration cradle, while saying quietly, "You didn't really need help with this the other time, did you?"

"No," I agreed, "but I'm glad I pretended. I've had a wonderful time!"

"And we'll have a good time in Winnipeg, too. I reached Janet during countdown, let her know that you would be with us for dinner. She told me to tell you that you would be with us for breakfast as well-she says to tell you that it is silly to leave Winnipeg in the middle of the night; you could get mugged at any transfer. She's right-the informal immigrants we get over the border from the Imperium would kill you for a toke."

"I'll speak with her about it when we get there." (Captain Ian, you triflin' man, you told me that you would never marry because you must "go where the wild goose goes." I wonder if you recall that? I don't think you do.)