Before she could get to sleep, Winifred came in, in robe and slippers. "Miss Joan?" she said softly.

"Yes, dear? Put the floor lights on."

"Mr. Salomon said that you had gone to bed—"

"And you look as if you had. Did he wake you?"

"Oh, no. I was chatting with Mrs. Sloan; she's on watch. But Dr. Garcia left word that your bed was to be all the way down—and I see that it isn't. How do I put it down?"

"I do it myself, right from the bed—down, like that—or back up, like that. I wasn't asleep yet. It's all right, I'll put it all the way down before you leave... and you can tell Doctor that I was a good girl."

"Fine! You can have this capsule if you want it. You don't have to take it, Mrs. Sloan says that Doctor says."

"I'll take it; I want to go right to sleep. If you'll hand me the water there... and kiss me good-night. If you won't, I'll sulk and ring for Mrs. Sloan and ask her to kiss me good-night."

The little nurse grinned. "I'll force myself."

Winifred left about sixty seconds later. (Well, Eunice? How did that one stack up?) (Quite well, Butch. Say eighty percent as well as Jake can do.) (You're teasing.) (You'll find out. Winnie is sweet—but Jake has had years more practice. I'm not chucking asparagus at Winnie. I thought you were going to drag her right in with us.) (With Mrs. Sloan outside and watching our heart rate? What do you think I am? A fool?) (Yes.) (Oh, go to sleep!)

12

Peace Negotiations, both in Paris and in Montevideo, continued as before. Fighting continued on a token basis, and the dead did not complain. Harvard's new president was dismissed by the student government, which then adjourned without appointing a successor. The Secretary of H.E.W. announced a plan to increase the water content of San Francisco Bay to 37%; the Rivers & Harbors Commission denied that H.E.W. had jurisdiction. In Alma­ Ata a Morale Corps sergeant gave birth to a healthy two-headed boy by Caesarean section; it was watched worldwide and on Luna, via satellite, to a specially arranged chorus of the Thoughts of Chairman Lu. In Washington the I.R.S., acting under Budget Executive Order (Emergency) of ‘87, announced an additional temporary surtax of 7%. In Miami Miss Universe (Miss Ghana—42-22-38), speaking through her press secretary & interpreter, revealed that she intended to be the first starship commander and had been studying neo­Einsteinian ballistics under hypnosis for two years. The General Secretary of the People's Fraternal Society of Cosmonauts, Astronauts, & Space Engineers (A.F.L.­C.I.O.) wondered publicly as to Miss Universe's ability to do simple arithmetic with her shoes on. Madam President of the Federated Women's Clubs of the World stated that the Honorable Secretary was a counterrevolutionary rat-fink and a typical example of male arrogance. In Los Angeles smog deaths were down 3% under emergency pollution abatement measures and a brisk west wind.

In a big, ugly, ornate, old house Miss Joan Eunice Smith sat in Lotus on a mat in her dressing room near a large mirror and facing her nurse-companion-maid, also in Lotus. "Comfortable, Winnie dear?"

"Very."

"I think you're even more limber than I am. All right, let's get into the mood for exercise. You start it."

"All right. But, Miss Joan? What does it mean? Oh, I like it; it's very relaxing. But what jewel in what lotus, and why?"

"It means nothing. And everything. If you must have words, it means peace and love and understanding and anything that you think of as good. But it's not for thinking, dear; it's for being. Let yourself be open to it, don't think. Don't even try not to think. Be."

"All right."

"Start us. Remember the breathing. I'll get in step."

"Om Mani Padme Hum."

(Om Mani Padme Hum. See that aura round her, Boss? She must have had quite a night.) (Shut up, Eunice; these prayers were your idea.) "Om Mani Padme Hum."

"Om Mani Padme Hum." (Om Mani Padme Hum.)

"Om Mani Padme Hum." "Om Mani…"

(That's enough, Joan.) (So short, beloved? Clock says only twenty minutes.) (I use a different clock. We're warm all through, we're ready. Winnie is more than ready; you'll have to call her back.)

"Om Mani Padme Hum. Winifred. Winnie darling, hear me. The sun is rising and so must we."

The little redhead was still perfectly in Lotus, soles of her feet turned upward on her thighs, hands in her lap, palms upward. She was still intoning, with her breathing paced exactly with her prayers. But her eyes had turned up; only the whites showed. "Come back, Winnie. Time."

The girl's eyes turned down to normal; she looked puzzled, then smiled. "Already? Seems like only a moment. I must have fallen asleep."

"Happens. Are you ready? Warm and loose and your muscles soft as cotton?"

"Uh... yes, I am."

"Then let's try some singles." Joan Eunice flowed upward from the mat like a flower unfolding and was standing. "You criticize me and I'll criticize you. Then we can have companion exercises for dessert." Joan looked at herself in the long glass. "I think my belly is firmer every day. I keep telling myself."

"It's perfect and you know it." The redhead got up more slowly, caught herself in a yawn.

"Still sleepy, dear? No pleasant dreams last night?"

The girl barely blushed, then shrugged and smiled. "Pleasant all right but not enough hours. I hope we didn't disturb you."

"Didn't hear a sound. Wouldn't have guessed if you hadn't told me when you came in to kiss me good-night. Dear, if you're short on sleep, maybe you'd rather just criticize."

"Oh, no, I'm getting more out of our exercises than you are—don't want to miss a day. But—yes, I'm short on sleep. Paul— Oh, dear! But I didn't say his last name."

"Didn't hear you, I was rubbing my ears."

"Fibber. He didn't leave until half past two. So I did lose sleep. Not that I minded!"

"I'm sure you didn't. Winnie dear, I did not mean to snoop. Oh, normal curiosity—being a virgin myself."

The nurse looked startled, said, "But—" and shut up.

Joan Eunice smiled. "Sho', sho', hon, I know what that ‘But' means. Mrs. Branca was married... and Johann Smith was married four times, not to mention jumping out of windows. But Joan Eunice is a virgin—dig me, doll baby?"

"Well, looked at that way—"

"Only way I can look at it. So I'm curious as a Girl Scout. But telling me would still leave me knowing nothing, even if you wanted to tell, which I'm sure you don't. Someday—no hurry—I suppose I'll find out for myself. So don't you dare blush again and let's get on with our exercises. I'll run through the Tortoise variations and you push me if I need it."

After an hour of twisting and stretching and posing Joan Eunice said, "Enough. Much more and we'd be sweating instead of glowing. Ready for gruesome twosomes?"

The high note of the outer door sounded in the bath-dressing room. "Damn," said Joan. "I mean a ladylike ‘darn.' Damn. Into your tights, dear, and I'll drop your smock over your head. Tell ‘em ‘No ice today.'"

"Right away." Dressed in seconds, the girl left.

(How'd we look today, Eunice? Tits beginning to suit you?) (We're more than halfway there, Joan; in another week you can cut the time down.) (Not anxious to; it's the most fun of the day... except when our lord and guardian deigns to dine with us. Tell me, hon—have you been fretting about those negative reports?) (No, you have been fretting; they were what I expected. Nobody knows how memory works except that everyone is sure he knows and thinks all the others are fools.) (I've been thinking about those flatworms. If you can chop up a trained flatworm and feed it to another flatworm and then the second one seems to remember what the first one learned, then—)