"Why, Pop? Why wouldn't it just reverse your memory?"

"Memory is tied to entropy increase, my darling daughter. Death might be preferable to amnesia combined with prophetic knowledge. Uncertainty may be the factor that makes life tolerable. Hope is what keeps us going. Captain!"

"Copilot."

"We have just passed over North Rim."

"Thank you, Copilot." I placed my hands lightly on the controls.

"Pop, our cabin is still there. Lights in it, too."

"So I see. They've added a wing on the west."

"Yes. Where we discussed adding a library."

I said, "Family, I'm not going closer. Your analogs in this world seem to be holding a party. Flood lights show four cars on the grounding flat." I started Gay into a wide circle. "I'm not going to hover; it could draw attention. A call to their sky cops- Hell's bells, I don't even know that they speak English."

"Captain, we've seen all we need. It's not our cabin."

"Recommendation?"

"Sir, I suggest maximum altitude. Discuss what to do while we get there."

"Gay Deceiver."

"On deck, Captain Ahab."

"One gee, vertical."

"Aye aye, sir." (How many answers had Deety taped?)

"Anybody want a sandwich?" asked Sharpie. "I do-I'm a pregnant mother."

I suddenly realized that I had had nothing but a piece of pie since noon. As we climbed we finished what was left of supper.

"Zat Marsh?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Sharpie."

"Zebbie you brute, I said, 'Is that Mars?' Over there."

"That's Antares. Mars is- Look left about thirty degrees. See it? Same color as Antares but brighter."

"Got it. Jacob darling, let's take that vacation on Barsoom!"

"Hilda dearest, Mars is uninhabitable. The Mars Expedition used pressure suits. We have no pressure suits."

I added, "Even if we did, they would get in the way of a honeymoon."

Hilda answered, "I read a jingle about 'A Space Suit Built for Two.' Anyhow, let's go to Barsoom! Jacob, you did tell me we could go anywhere in Zip- nothing flat."

"Quite true."

"So let's go to Barsoom."

I decided to flank her. "Hilda, we can't go to Barsoom. Mors Kajak and John Carter don't have their swords."

"Want to bet?" Deety said sweetly.

"Huh?"

"Sir, you left it to me to pick baggage for that unassigned space. If you'll check that long, narrow stowage under the instrument board, you'll find the sword and saber, with belts. With socks and underwear crammed in to keep them from rattling."

I said soberly, "My Princess, I couldn't moan about my sword when your father took the loss of his house so calmly-but thank you, with all my heart."

"Let me add my thanks, Deety. I set much store by that old saber, unnecessary as it is."

"Father, it was quite necessary this afternoon."

"Hi ho! Hi ho! It's to Barsoom we go!"

"Captain, we could use the hours till dawn for a quick jaunt to Mars. Uh- Oh, dear, I have to know its present distance-I don't."

"No problem," I said. "Gay gobbles the Aerospace Almanac each year."

"Indeed! I'm impressed."

"Gay Deceiver."

"You again? I was thinking."

"So think about this. Calculation program. Data address, Aerospace Almanac. Running calculation, line-of-sight distance to planet Mars. Report current answers on demand. Execute."

"Program running."

"Report."

"Klicks two-two-four-zero-nine-zero-eight-two-seven point plus-minus nineeight-zero."

"Display running report."

Gay did so. "You're a smart girl, Gay."

"I can do card tricks, too. Program continuing."

"Jake, how do we this?"

"Align 'L' axis with your gun sight. Isn't that easiest?"

"By far!" I aimed at Mars as if to shoot her out of the sky-then got cold feet. "Jake? A little Tennessee windage? I think those figures are from centerof-gravity to center-of-gravity. Half a mil would place us a safe distance away. Over a hundred thousand klicks."

"A hundred and twelve thousand," Jake agreed, watching the display.

I offset one half mil. "Copilot."

"Captain."

"Transit when ready. Execute."

Mars in half phase, big and round and ruddy and beautiful, was swimming off our starboard side.

"Quit worrying and enjoy the ride."

Deety:

Aunt Hilda said softly, "Barsoom. Dead sea bottoms. Green giants." I just gulped.

"Mars. Hilda darling." Pop gently corrected her. "Barsoom is a myth."

"Barsoom." she repeated firmly. "It's not a myth, it's there. Who says its name is Mars? A bunch of long-dead Romans. Aren't the natives entitled to name it? Barsoom."

"My dearest, there are no natives. Names are assigned by an international committee sponsored by Harvard Observatory. They confirmed the traditional name.

"Pooh! They don't have any more right to name it than I have. Deety, isn't that right?"

I think Aunt Hilda had the best argument but I don't argue with Pop unless necessary; he gets emotional. My husband saved me.

"Copilot, astrogation problem. How are we going to figure distance and vector? I would like to put this wagon into orbit. But Gay is no spaceship; I don't have instruments. Not even a sextant!"

'Mmm, suppose we try it one piece at a time, Captain. We don't seem to be f~Iling fast and-alp!"

~What's the trouble, Jake!"

Pop turned pale, sweat broke out, he clenched his jaws, swallowed and reswallowed. Then his lips barely opened. "M'sheashick."

'No, you're space sick. Deetv!"

"Yessir!"

"Emergency kit, back of my seat. Unzip it, get Bonine. One pill-don't let the others get loose."

I got at the first-aid kit, found a tube marked Bonine. A second pill did get loose but I snatched it out of the air. Free fall is funny-you don't know whether you are standing on your head or floating sideways. "Here, Captain."

Pop said, "Mall righ' now. Jus' took all over queer a moment."

"Sure, you're all right. You can take this pill-or you can have it pushed down your throat with my dirty, calloused finger. Which?"

"Uh, Captain, I'd have to have water to swallow it-and I don't think I can."

"Doesn't take water, pal. Chew it. Tastes good, raspberry flavor. Then keep gulping your saliva. Here." Zebadiah pinched Pop's nostrils. "Open up."

I became aware of a strangled sound beside me. Aunt Hilda had a hanky pressed to her mouth and her eyes were streaming tears-she was split seconds from adding potato salad and used sandwich to the cabin air.

Good thing I was still clutching that wayward pill. Aunt Hilda struggled but she's a little bitty. I treated her the way my husband had treated her husband, then clamped my hand over her mouth. I don't understand seasickness (or free-fall nausea); I can walk on bulkheads with a sandwich in one hand and a drink in the other and enjoy it.

But the victims really are sick and somewhat out of their heads. So I held her mouth closed and whispered into her ear. "Chew it, Aunty darling, and swallow it, or I'm going to spank you with a club."

Shortly I could feel her chewing. After several minutes she relaxed. I asked her, "Is it safe for me to ungag you?"

She nodded. I took my hand away. She smiled wanly and patted my hand. "Thanks, Deety." She added, "You wouldn't really beat Aunt Sharpie."

"I sure would, darling. I'd cry and cry and wallop you and wallop you. I'm glad I don't have to."

"I'm glad, too. Can we kiss and make up-or is my breath sour?"

It wasn't but I wouldn't have let that stop me. I loosened my chest strap and hers, and put both arms around her. I have two ways of kissing: one is suitable for faculty teas; the other way I mean it. I never got a chance to pick; Aunt Hilda apparently never found out about the faculty-tea sort. No, her breath wasn't sour-just a slight taste of raspberry.