'That's beside the point I'm a family man; I've got Edith and Buster and Meade to think about, too.'
Meade turned her head again. 'If you're thinking about me, Daddy, I'd like to go. Why, I've never been any place - except that one trip to Venus and twice to New York.'
'Hold still. Meade,' Dr Stone said quietly. She went on to her husband, 'You know, Roger, I was thinking just the other day how caamped this apartment is. And we haven't been any place, as Meade says, since we got back from Venus.'
Mr Stone stared. 'You too? Edith, this apartment is bigger than any ship compartment; you know that.'
'Yes, but a ship seems bigger. In free fall one gets so much more use out of the room.'
'My deer, do I undersand that you are supporting this junket?'
'Oh' not at all! I was speaking in general terms. But you do sleep better aboard ship. You never snore in free fall.'
'I do not snore!'
Dr Stone did not answer. Hazel snickered. Pollux caught Castor's eye and Castor nodded; the two slipped quietly away to their own room. It was a lot of trouble to get mother involved in a family argument, but worth the effort; nothing important was ever decided until she joined in.
Meade tapped on their door a little later; Castor let her in and looked her over; she was dressed in the height of fashion for the American Old West. 'Square dancing again, huh?'
'Eliminations tonight. Look here, Cas, even if Daddy breaks loose from the money you two might be stymied by being underage for an unlimited license - right?'
'We figure on a waiver. They had also discussed blasting off without a waiver, but it did not seem the time to mention it.
'But you might not get it. Just bear in mind that I will be eighteen next week. Bve now!'
'Good night.'
When she had gone Pollux said, 'That's silly. She hasn't even taken her limited license.'
'No, but she's had astrogation in school and we could coach her.'
'Cas, you're crazy. We can't drag her all around the system; girls are a nuisance.'
'You've got that wrong, Junior. You mean "sisters" - girls are okay.'
Pollux considered this. 'Yeah, I guess you're right.' 'I'm always right.'
'Oh, so? How about the time you tried to use liquid air to -'
'Let's not be petty!'
Grandmother Hazel stuck her head in next. 'Just a quick battle report, boys. Your father is groggy but still fighting gamely.'
'Is he going to let us use the money?'
'Doesn't look like it, as now. Tell me, how much did Ekizian ask you for that Detroiter?'
Castor told her; she whistled. 'The gonoph,' she said softly. 'That unblushing groundhog - I'll have his license lifted.'
'Oh, we didn't agree to pay it.'
'Don't sign with him at all unless I'm at your elbow. I know where the body is buried.'
'Okay. Look, Hazel, you really think a Detroiter VII is unstable?'
She wrinkled her brow. 'Its gyros are too light for the ship's moment of inertia. I hate a ship that wobbles. If we could pick up a war-surplus triple-duo gyro system, cheap, you would have soinething. I'll inquire around.'
It was much later when Mr Stone looked in. 'Still awake, boys?'
'Oh, sure, come in.'
'About that matter we were discussing tonight -'
Pollux said, 'Do we get the money?'
Castor dug him in the ribs but it was too late. Their father said, 'I told you that was out. But I wanted to ask you: did you, when you were shopping around today, happen to ask, us, about any larger ships?'
Castor looked blank. 'Why, no sir. We couldn't afford anything larger could we, Pol?'
'Gee, no! Why do you ask, Dad?'
'Oh, nothing, nothing at all! Uh, good night.'
He left. The twins turned to each other and solemn!y shook hands.
II - A CASE FOR DRAMATIC LICENSE
At breakfast the next morning - 'morning' by Greenwich time, of course; itwas still late afternoon by local sun time and would be for a couple of days - the Stone family acted out the episode Hazel had dictated the night before of Mr Stone's marathon adventure serial. Grandma Hazel had stuck the spool of dictation into the autotyper as soon as she had gotten up; there was a typed copy for each of them. Even Buster had a small side to read and Hazel played several parts, crouching and jumping around and shifting her voice from rusty bass to soprano.
Everybody got into the act - everybody but Mr Stone; he listened with a dour try-to-make-me-laugh expression.
Hazel finished her grand cliff-hanging finale by knocking over her coffee She plucked the cup out of the air and had a napkin under the brown flood before it could reach the floor under the urge of the Moon's leisurely field. 'Well?' she said breathlessly to her son, while still panting from the Galactic Overlord's frantic attempts to escape a just fate. 'How about it? Isn't that a dilly? Did we scare the dickens out of 'em or didn't we?'
Roger Stone did not answer; he merely held his nose. Hazel looked amazed. 'You didn't like it? Why, Roger, I do believe you're jealous. To think I would raise a son with spirit so mean that he would be envious of his own mother!'
Buster spoke up. 'I liked it Let's do that part over where I shoot the space pirate.' He pointed a finger and made a zizzing noise. 'Whee! Blood all over the bulkheads!'
'There's your answer, Roger. Your public. If Buster likes it, you're in.'
'I thought it was exciting,' Meade put in. 'What was wrong with it' Daddy?'
'Yes,' agreed Hazel belligerently. 'Go ahead. Tell us.'
'Very well. In the first place, spaceships do not make hundred-and eighty-degree turns.'
