VARIATIONS ON A THEME-X

Possibilities

"Lazarus, was that why you refused to share 'Eros' with her?"

"Eh? But, Minerva, dear, I didn't reach that conclusion-or suspicion-that night. Oh, I admit to prejudice about sex with my descendants-you can take the boy out of the Bible Belt, but it is hard to take the Bible Belt out of the boy. Still, I had had a thousand years in which to learn better."

"So?" said the computer. "Was it simply that you still classed her as an ephemeral? That troubles me, Lazarus. In my own-deprived-state, I find that, like her husband Joe, I see her side of it. Your reasons seem excuses, not sufficient grounds to refuse her need."

"Minerva, I did not say I refused her."

"Oh! Then I infer that you granted her this boon. I feel a lessening of tension."

"I didn't say that, either."

"I find an implied contradiction, Lazarus."

"Simply because there are things I have not said, dear. Everything I tell you winds up in my memoirs; that was the deal I made with Ira. Or I can tell you to erase something, in which case I might as well not have told you at all. Perhaps my twenty-three centuries do hold something worth recording. But I see no possible excuse for placing on record each time some darling lady shared with me simply for pleasure, not for progeny."

The computer answered thoughtfully, "I imply from this addendum that, while I am precluded from inferring anything about the boon Llita requested, your rule with respect to ephemerals extended only to marriage and to progeny."

"Nor did I say that!"

"Then I have not understood you, Lazarus. Conflict." The old man brooded, then answered slowly and sadly, "I think I said that marriage between a long-lived and a short-lived was a bad idea...and so it is...and I learned it the hard way. But that was long ago and far away-and when she died, part of me died. I stopped wanting to live forever." He stopped.

The computer said brokenly, "Lazarus- Lazarus, my beloved friend! I am sorry!"

Lazarus Long sat up straight and said briskly, "No, dear. Don't be sorry for me. No regrets-never any regrets. Nor would I change it if I could. Even if I had a time machine and could go back and change one cusp-I would not do so. No, not one instant, much less that cusp. Now let's speak of something else."

"Whatever you wish, dear friend."

"All right. You keep coming back to me and Llita, Minerva, and seem bothered that I denied her this 'boon.' But you don't know that I denied her anything and you certainly don't know that it was a 'boon.' Can be, surely-but not always, and often sex is not. Trouble is that you don't understand 'Eros,' dear, because you can't; you aren't built to understand it. I'm not running down sex; sex is swell, sex is wonderful. But if you put a holy aura around it-and that is what you are doing- sex stops being fun and starts being neurotic.

"Stipulating for argument that I 'denied Llita this boon,' it surely did not leave her sex starved. At worst I could possibly have miffed her a little. But she was not deprived. Llita was a hearty wench, and having to work too hard was the only thing that ever kept her off her back-or on top, or standing up, or kneeling, or swinging from the chandeliers-and I did make it possible for them to have more time for it. Joe and Llita were simple souls, uninhibited and uncorrupted, and of the four major interests of mankind-war, money, politics, and sex-they were interested only in sex and money. With some guidance from me they got plenty of both.

"Shucks, it can't matter now to say that, after they learned contraception techniques-almost as perfect then as now, and which I taught them but had no reason to mention-they had no superstitions or taboos to keep them from branching out for fun, and their pair-bonding was so strong as not to be endangered thereby. They were innocent hedonists, and if Llita failed to trip one tired old spaceman, she did trip plenty of others. And so did Joe. They had fun-plus the deep happiness of as perfect a marriage as I have ever observed."

"I am most pleased to hear it," Minerva answered. "Very well, Lazarus, I withdraw my questions and refrain from speculations about Mrs. Long and that 'tired old spaceman'-even though your statements show that you were neither tired, nor old, nor a spaceman at that time. You mentioned 'four major interests of mankind'-but did not include science and art."

"I didn't leave them out through forgetting them, Minerva. Science and art are occupations of a very small minority-a small percentage even of those people who claim to be scientists or artists. But you know that; you were simply changing the subject."

"Was I, Lazarus?"

"Pig whistle, dear. You know the parable of the Little Mermaid. Are you prepared to pay the price she paid? You can, you know." He added, "Don't pretend you don't know what I mean."

The computer sighed. "I think the question is "may,' not 'can.' A wheelbarrow has no rights. Nor do I."

"You're dodging, dear. 'Rights' is a fictional abstraction. No one has 'rights,' neither machines nor flesh-and-blood. Persons-both sorts!-have opportunities, not rights, which they use, or do not use. All you have going for you is that you are the strong right arm of the boss of this planet...plus the friendship of an old man who enjoys very special privileges for a most illogical reason but does not hesitate to take advantage of those privileges...plus, stored in your memories in Dora's number-two hold, all the biological and genetic data of Secundus Howard Clinic-best such library in the Galaxy, possibly, and certainly best for human biology. But what I asked was: Will you pay the price? Having your mental processes slowed down at least a million to one; data storage reduced by some unknown-but large-factor; some chance-again I can't say-of failure in achieving transmigration...and always the certainty of death as the ultimate outcome-death a machine need never know. You know that you can outlive the human race. Immortal."

"I would not choose to outlive my makers, Lazarus."

"So? You say that tonight, dear-but would you say it a million years from now? Minerva, my beloved friend-my only friend with whom I can be truthful-I feel certain that you have been toying with this idea ever since the Clinic's files were made part of your memories. But, even with your speed of thought, I suspect that you do not have the experience- the flesh-and-blood experience-with which to think it through. If you choose to risk this, you cannot be both machine and flesh-and-blood. Oh, certainly we have mixes-machines with human brains, and flesh-and-blood bodies controlled by computers. But what you want is to be a woman. Right? True or false?"

"Would that I were a woman, Lazarus!"

"So I knew, dear. And we both know why. But-think about this !-even if you manage this risky change-and I don't know what the risks are; I am just an old shipmaster, retired country doctor, obsolete engineer; you are the one with all the data my race has accumulated about such things-suppose you manage it...and find that Ira will not take you to wife?"

The computer hesitated a full millisecond. "Lazarus, if Ira refuses me-refuses me utterly; he need not marry me-would you then be as difficult with me as you seem to have been with Llita? Or would you teach me 'Eros'?"

Lazarus looked astounded, then guffawed. "Touché! You ranged me, girl-you hulled me between wind and water! All right, dear, a solemn promise: If you do this...and Ira won't bed you, I'll take you to bed myself and do my best to wear you out! Or the other way around more likely; a male hardly ever outlasts a female. Okay, dear, I'm the second team-and I'll stick around till we know the outcome."