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any cook anywhere. - The virago said to him, "Keep out of this, Willie. This fellow here's a
masquerader. The thing I heard him say !"
"I'm not," Helena wept. "I'm not!" The cook stooped to look into her face and turned on the mob.
"She isn't," he said definitely. "She's a lady from
another system. She was slopping up triple antigravs at my place last night with a gang of jet
pilots."
"That doesn't prove ^ thing!" the virago yelled.
"Madam," the cook said wearily, "after her third anti-grav I had to trip her up and crown her. She
was about to climb the bar and corner my barman."
Ross looked at her fixedly. She stopped crying and nervously cleared her throat.
"So if you'll just let us through," the cook bustled, seizing the psychological moment of doubt.
His enormous belly bulldozed a lane for them. "Beg pardon. Excuse us. Madam, will you thank you.
Beg pardon "
The lynchers were beginning to drift away, embarrassed. The party had collapsed. "Faster," the
cook hissed at them. "Beg pardon " And they were in the clear and well down the street.
"Thank you, Sir," Helena said humbly.
"Just 'Willie', // you please," the fat man said.
One hand descended on Ross's shoulder and another on Helena's. They both belonged to the virago.
She spun them around, glaring. "I'm not satisfied with the brush-off," she snapped. "Exactly what
did you mean by that remark you made?"
Helena wailed, "It's just that you and all these other women here seem so young."
The virago's granite face softened. She let go and tucked in a strand of steel-wool hair. "Did you
really think so, dear?" she asked, beaming. "There, I'm sorry I got excited. A wee bit jealous,
were you? Well, we're broad-minded here in Novj Grad." She patted Helena's arm and walked off,
smiling and jaunty.
Virgin Willie led off and they followed him. Ross's knees were shaky. The virago had not known
that to Helena "young" meant "stupid."
The cook absently acknowledged smiles and nods as they walked. He was, obviously, a character.
Between salutes he delivered a low-voiced, rapid-fire reaming to Ross and Helena. "Silly stunt.
Didn't you hear about the riots? Supposed to be arms caches somewhere here on the south side.
Everybody's nerves absolutely ragged. Somebody gets
smashed up in traffic, they blame it on us. Don't care where you're from. Watch it next time."
"We will, Willie," Helena said contritely. "And I think you run an awfully nice restaurant."
"Yeah," said Ross, looking at her.
Willie muttered, "I guess you're clear. You still staying at that hot pilot's hangout? This is
where we say good-by, then. You turn left."
'Te waddled on down the street. Helena said instantly, "I oon't remember a thing, Ross."
"Okay," he said. "You don't remember a thing."
She looked relieved and said brightly, "So let's get back to the hotel."
"Okay," he said. Climbed the bar and tried to corner the ... Halfway to the hotel he slowed, then
stopped, and said, "I just thought of something. Maybe we're not staying there any more. After
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last night why should Breuer carry us on her tab? I thought we'd have some money to carry us from
the Cavallos by now "
"The ship?" she asked in a small voice.
"Across the continent. Hell! Maybe Breuer forgave and forgot. Let's try, anyway."
They never got as far as the hotel. When they reached the square it stood on, there was a
breathless rush and Ber-nie stood before them, panting and holding a hand over his chest "In
here," he gasped, and nodded at a shopfront that announced hot brew. Ross thoughtlessly started
first through the door and caught Bernie's look of alarm. He opened the door for Helena, who went
through smiling nervously.
They settled at a small table in an empty corner in stiff silence. "I've been walking around that
square all morning," Bernie said, with a cowed look at Helena.
Ross told her: "This young man and I had a talk yesterday at the plane while you were eating. What
is it, Bernie?"
He still couldn't believe that he was doing it, but Bernie said in a scared whisper: "Wanted to
head you off and warn you. Breuer was down at the field cafe this morning, talking loud to the
other hot-shots. She said you both of you talked equality. Said she got up with a hangover and
you
were gone. But she said there'd be six policewomen waiting in your room when you got back." He
leaned forward on the table. Ross remembered that he had been forced to sell his ration card.
"Here comes the waiter," he said softly. "Order something for all of us. We have a little money.
And thanks, Bernie."
Helena asked, "What do we do?"
"We eat," Ross said practically. "Then we think. Shut up; let Bernie order."
They ate; and then they thought. Nothing much seemed to come from all the thinking, though.
They were a long, long way from the spaceship. Ross commandeered all of Helena's leftover cash. It
was almost, not quite, enough for one person to get halfway back to Azor City. He and Bernie
turned out their pockets and added everything they had, including pawnable valuables. That helped.
It made the total almost enough, for one person to get three-quarters of the way back.
It didn't help enough.
Ross said, "Bernie, what would happen if we, well, stole something?"
Bernie shrugged. "It's against the law, of course. They probably wouldn't prosecute, though."
"They wouldn't?"
"Not if they can prove egalitarianism on you. Stealing's against the law; preaching equality is
against the state. You get the maximum penalty for that."
Helena choked on her drink, but Ross merely nodded. "So we might as well take a chance," he said.
"Thanks, Bernie. We won't bother you any more. You'll forget you heard this, won't you?"
"The hell I will!" Bernie squawked. "If you're getting out of here, I want to go with you! You
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