"I'm only up to chapter four," Zeb said defensively. "Jake, make her quit picking on me."

"You're her husband; I'm merely her father. Bertie, I must ask one thing. Don't touch anything. This car is not shut down; it is ready to go, instantly."

"I'll be careful, Jake. But we're leaving the ladies standing. The Captain herself! This is not right."

Deety said, "Bertie, I don't want to sit down. This trip doesn't give me nearly the exercise I need."

"But I can't permit Captain Hilda to stand. Sit here and I'll stand." (I appreciated his gallantry but I could see an impasse coming: two people, each aware of her/his prerogatives and they conflicted.)

Hilda avoided it by something she had discovered in working out how to rig a double bed in the control compartment. Although pilots have separate seats, the passenger's seats are really one, built all the way across but separated by armrests... which could be removed with screwdriver and sweat.

I had eliminated sweat and screwdriver; a natural mechanic, such as Zeb, accumulates miscellaneous hardware. Those armrests could now be removed and clamped out of the way with butterfly nuts. Hilda started to do so; the Brigadier dismounted them once he saw what she was doing.

It was a snug fit, but Hird-Jones has trim hips and Hilda has the slimmest bottom in town (any town).

"An important feature," said Zeb, "of this design is a voice-controlled autopilot-"

"Are you open to a bribe?"

Deety:

Zebadiah, for seventeen dull minutes, said nothing and said it very well. During that plethora of polysyllabic nullities, I was beginning to think that I would have to take Pop to a quiet spot and reason with him with a club- when Captain Auntie showed that she needed no help.

Pop had interrupted with: "Let me put it simply. What Zeb said is-"

"Copilot." Cap'n Hilda did not speak loudly but Pop should know that when she says "Copilot," she does not mean: "Jacob darling, this is your little wifey." Pop is a slow learner. But he can learn. Just drop an anvil on him.

"Yes, Hilda?" Aunt Hilda let the seconds creep past, never took her eyes off Pop. I was embarrassed; Pop isn't usually that slow-then the anvil hit. "Yes, Captain?"

"Please do not interrupt the Chief Pilot's presentation." Her tone was warm and sweet: I don't think our guests realized that Pop had just been courtmartialed, convicted, keelhauled, and restored to duty-on probation. But I knew it, Zeb knew it-Pop knew it. "Aye aye, Captain!"

I concluded that Captain Auntie never intended to stand outside. She had told me to offer my seat to Squeaky and had added, "Why don't you suggest to your father that he offer his to the Governor?" I don't need an anvil.

It was a foregone conclusion that Bertie would object to ladies having to stand while he sat. But if he had not, I feel certain that the Hillbilly would have held up proceedings until she was seated where she could watch everyone but our visitors could not watch her.

How tall was Machiavelli?

As they were climbing out the Brigadier was telling me that he understood how she was controlled-but how did she flap her wings?-and I answered that technical questions were best put to the Captain-I was unsurprised to hear Cap'n Auntie say, "Certainly, Bertie... if you don't mind being squeezed between Deety and me."

"Mind'? I should pay for the privilege!"

"Certainly you should," I agreed-the Hillbilly's eyes widened but she let me talk. "What am I offered to scrunch over?" I slapped myself where I'm widest. "Squeaky is a snake's hips-not me!"

"Are you open to a bribe?"

"How big a bribe?"

"A purse of gold and half the county? Or cream tarts at tea?"

"Oh, much more! A bath. A bath in a tub, with loads of hot water and lots of suds. The last time I bathed was in a stream and it was coooold !" I shivered for him.

The Governor appeared to think. "Squeaky, do we have a bathtub?"

Lady Herbert interrupted. "Bertie, I was thinking of the Princess Suite. My deah, since you are all one family, it popped into mind. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, two bathtubs. The drawing room is gloomy, rather."

I answered, "Bertie, you didn't talk fast enough; Betty gets the first ride."

"Oh, no, no, no! I don't fly even in our own flying carriage."

"Hahrooomph!" Squeaky boomed. "Are you still open to a bribe?"

"You might try our captain; she's as corruptible as I am."

Aunt Hilda picked it up. "Now that I've heard that two bathtubs go with the suite, my cup runneth over. But my husband and my son-in-law have matters to discuss with the Governor's technical staff. I don't have to be bribed to offer a few joy rides, Brigadier-one passenger at a time and, as Deety implies, not too wide a passenger." Aunt Hilda added, "Betty, I must confess my own weakness. Clothes. What I am wearing, for example. A Ferrara original. An exclusive-Mario himself created it for me. While it is intended for salt-water yachting, it is just as practical for space yachting-and I couldn't resist it. Do you have nice shops here?"

Bertie answered for his wife. "Hilda, there are shops-but Windsor City is not London. However, Betty has a seamstress who is clever at copying styles from pictures in periodicals from home-old but new to us." He added, "She'll show you what we have. Now concerning this ride you so kindly offered me- does it suit you to give me an appointment?"

"Is right now soon enough?"

"Report readiness for space. Astrogator."

"Ready!" I snapped, trying to sound efficient. "Belt tight."

"Chief Pilot."

"Belt fastened. Portside door locked, seal checked. Juice zero point sevenone. Wings subsonic full. Wheels down and locked. Car trimmed assuming passenger at six-six kilos."

"General, is that your mass?"

"Dear me! I think in nrn]nds. Th~ f~thr is-"

I interrupted. "I'll take it in pounds here or pounds London."

"I weigh myself each morning and I have had the scale recalibrated. Eh, with these boots, one hundred forty-five pounds I dare say."

"Correct to three significant figures, Zebadiah." (I did not mention that weight bearing on each wheel shows on the instrument board. Let Bertie think my husband a magician; he's a wizard to me.)

"Thank you, Astrogator. Car is trimmed, Captain."

"Copilot."

"Belt fastened. Door seal checked. Continua device ready."

"Passenger," said Cap'n Auntie.

"Eh? What should a passenger report?"

"Principally that your belt is secure, but I saw to that myself." (By using a web belt from our sleeping bag to link Hilda's seat belt to mine.) "I must ask one question," Aunt Hilda went on: "Are you subject to motion sickness? The Channel can be rough and so can the Straits of Dover. Did mal de mer ever hit you?"

"Oh, I'll be right. Short flight and all that."

"One Bonine, Deety. General, Admiral Lord Nelson was seasick all his life. My husband and I are susceptible; we took our pills earlier today. Deety and Zebbie are the horrid sort who eat greasy sandwiches during a typhoon and laugh at the dying-"

"I don't laugh!" I protested.

"But these pills enable us to laugh right back. Is this not so, Jacob?"

"Bertie, they work; you'd be a fool not to take one."

"I must add," Captain Auntie said sweetly, "that if you refuse, we will not lift."

Bertie took it. I told him, "Chew it and swallow it; don't hide it in your cheek. Captain, I think that does it."

"Except that we are crowded. General, would you be more comfortable if you put an arm around each of us?"