Is that logic?
The driver was cruising slowly east along the Connecticut coast; I had told him just to drive around. I had to wake him up before I could get him to land us in Westport. We went straight to the City Hall.
I stepped up to a counter in the Bureau of Sanctions and Licenses and said to a clerk there, "Is this where we get married?"
"That's up to you," he answered. "Hunting licenses on the left, dog licenses on the right, this desk is the happy medium-I hope." He leered at me.
I don't like smart boys and the gag was ancient. "Very well," I said stiffly, "will you oblige by issuing us a license?"
"Sure thing. Everybody ought to get married at least once; that's what I keep telling my old lady." He got out a large printed form. "Let's have your serial numbers."
We gave them to him. He slid the form into a typer and recorded them. "Now-are either of you married in any other state?" We said that we weren't; he went on, "You're sure, now? If you are and don't tell me, so I can put a rider on this showing the other contracts, this contract ain't valid."
We told him again that we weren't married anywhere. He shrugged and went on, "Term, renewable, or lifetime? If it's over ten years, the fee is the same as for lifetime; if it's under six months, you don't need this; you get the short form from that vendo machine over there by the wall."
I looked at Mary; she said in a very small voice, "Lifetime."
The clerk looked surprised. "Lady, are you sure you know what you're doing? The renewable contract, with the automatic option clause, is just as permanent and you don't have to go through the courts if you change your mind."
I said, "You heard the lady! Put it down."
"Okay, okay-either party, mutual consent, or binding?"
"Binding," I answered and Mary nodded.
"Binding it is," he agreed, stroking the typer. "Now we come to the meat of the matter: who pays and how much? And is it salary or endowment?"
I said, "Salary"; I didn't own enough to set up a fund.
At the same time and in a firm voice Mary said, "Neither."
The clerk said, "Huh?"
"Neither one," Mary repeated. "This is not a financial contract."
The clerk stopped completely, looked at me, and then looked at Mary. "Now, look, lady," he said reasonably, "don't be foolish. You heard the gentleman say that he was willing to do the right thing."
"No."
"Hadn't you better talk it over with your lawyer before you go ahead with this? There's a public communicator out in the hall."
"No!"
"Well-I'm darned if I see what you need a license for."
"Neither do I," Mary told him.
"You mean you don't want this?"
"No! Put it down the way I told you to. 'No salary'. "
The clerk looked helpless but bent over the typer again. "I guess that's all we need," he said finally. "You've kept it simple, I'll say that for you. 'Do-you both-solemnly-swear-that-the-above-facts-are-true-to-the-best-of-your-knowledge-and-belief-that-you-aren't-entering-into-this-agreement-uninfluenced-by-drugs-or-other-illegal-inducements-and-that-there-exists-no-other-covenants-nor-other-legal-impediments-to-the-execution-and-registration-of-the-above-contract?' "
We both said that we did and we were and it was and there weren't. He pulled the form out of the typer. "Let's have your thumb prints. . . okay; that'll be ten dollars, including the federal tax." I paid him and he shoved the form into the copier and threw the switch. "Copies will be mailed to each of you," he announced, "at your serial-number addresses. Now-what type of ceremony are you looking for? Maybe I can be of help."
"We don't want a religious ceremony," Mary told him and I agreed.
He nodded. "Then I've got just what you're looking for. Old Doctor Chamleigh. He's completely non-sectarian, best stereo accompaniment in town, all four walls and full orchestra. He gives you the whole works, fertility rites and everything, but dignified. And he tops it off with a fatherly straight-from-the-shoulder word of advice. Makes you feel married."
"No." This time I said it.
"Oh, come, now!" the clerk said to me. "Think of the little lady. If she sticks by what she just swore to-and I'm not saying she won't-she'll never have another chance. Every girl is entitled to a formal wedding. Honest-I don't get much of a commission out of it."
I said, "See here, you can marry us, can't you? Go ahead. Get it over with!"
He looked surprised and said, "Didn't you know? In this state you marry yourself. You've been married, ever since you thumb-printed the license."
I said, "Oh-" Mary didn't say anything. We left.
I hired a duo at the landing flat north of town; the heap was ten years old and smelled of it but it had full-automatic and that was all that really mattered. I looped around the city, cut across Manhattan Crater, and set the controls. We didn't talk much; there didn't seem to be much to say just yet. I was happy but terribly nervous-and then Mary put her arms around me and after a bit I wasn't nervous any longer but happier than ever. After a long time that seemed short I heard the BEEEEP! beep-beep BEEEEP! of the beacon at my shack in the mountains, whereupon I unwound myself, took over manual, and landed. Mary said sleepily, "Where are we?"
"At my cabin in the mountains," I told her.
"I didn't know you had a cabin in the mountains. I thought you were headed for my apartment."
"What, and risk those bear traps? Anyhow, it's not mine; it's ours."
She kissed me again and I loused up the landing. She slid out ahead of me while I was securing the board, then I followed and found her staring at my shack. "Sweetheart, it's beautiful!"
"You can't beat the Adirondacks," I agreed. There was a slight haze with the sun low in the west, giving that wonderful, depth upon depth, stereo look that you never get anywhere else. "I picked this place for the view."
She glanced at it and said, "Yes, yes-but I didn't mean that. I meant your-our cabin. Let's go inside, right now."
"Suits," I agreed, "but it's really just a simple shack." Which it was-not even an indoor pool. I had kept it that way on purpose; when I came up here I didn't want to feel that I had brought the city with me. The shell was conventional steel-and-fiberglass construction but I had had it veneered in duroslabs which could not be told from real logs unless you took a knife to them. The inside was just as simple-a big living room with a real, wood-burning fireplace, deep plain-colored rugs, and plenty of low chairs. The services were all in a Kompacto special, the shell of which was buried under the foundation-air-conditioner, power pack, cleansing system, sound equipment, plumbing, radiation alarm, servos-everything but the deep-freeze and the other kitchen equipment, out of sight and out of mind. Even the stereo screens were covered up and would not be noticed unless in use. It was about as near as a man could get to a real log cabin and still have inside plumbing.
"I think it's just lovely," Mary said seriously. "I wouldn't want to have an ostentatious place."
"You and me both." I worked the combo and the front door dilated; Mary was inside at once. "Hey! Come back here!" I yelled.
She did so. "What's the matter, Sam? Did I do something wrong?"
"You sure did." I dragged her back to me, then swung her up in my arms and carried her across the threshold. I kissed her as I put her down. "There. Now you are in your own house, properly."