"I think not, Little Nag; the day you make a mistake in arithmetic, I'll have to resign. Lazarus?"
"I'm not interested in pigeonholes, just what is in them. Hit any pay dirt, Minerva?"
"As stated, Lazarus, your question does not permit specific answer. Shall I print out the categories for your examination?"
"Uh- No! Over three hundred thousand categories and maybe a dozen words to define each one? We'd be hip-deep in paper." Lazarus looked thoughtful. "Ira, you might ask Minerva to print it somewhere else before she wipes it. As a book. A big book, ten or fifteen volumes. You could call it 'Varieties of Human Experience,' by, uh, 'Minerva Weatheral.' It would be the sort of thing professors argue over for a thousand years. I'm not joking, Ira; it should be preserved, I think it's new. It's a job too big for flesh-and-blood, and I sort o' doubt that a computer of Minerva's caliber has ever before been asked to do this sort of Zwicky."
"Minerva, would you like that? Preserve your research notes and edit them into a book? Say a few hundred full-size bound copies in a handsome presentation format plus microperms for libraries on Secundus and elsewhere. For the Archives, too-I could ask Justin Foote to write a preface."
I was intentionally appealing to her vanity-and if you think computers don't have such human foibles, then I suggest that your experience with them is limited; Minerva always liked to be appreciated, and we two began to be a team only after I realized this. What else can you offer a machine? Higher pay and longer vacations? Let's not be silly.
But she surprised me still again, answering in a voice almost as shy as Lazarus' yacht, and quite formally: "Mr. Chairman Pro Tem, would it be proper, and would you grant permission, for me to put on the title page 'by Minerva Wearheral'?"
I said, "Why, certainly. Unless you would rather sign it just 'Minerva.'"
Lazarus said brusquely, "Don't be a dumb fool, Son. Dear, sign that title page 'Minerva L. Weatheral.' The 'L' stands for 'Long'-because you, Ira, had a woodseolt by one of my daughters on some frontier planet back in the careless days of your youth and just recently got around to registering the fact in the Archives. I'll attest the registration-happens I was there at the time. But Dr. Minerva L. Weatheral is now off somewhere way the hell and gone out, doing research for her next magnum opus-can't be reached for an interview. Ira, you and I will whip up biographical notes for my distinguished granddaughter. Got it?'
I simply answered Yes.
"That suit you, girl?"
"Yes indeed, Lazarus. Grandfather Lazarus."
"Don't bother calling me 'Grandfather.' But I want the number-one presentation copy inscribed to me, dear-'To my Grandfather Lazarus Long, with love, Minerva L. Weatheral.' Is it a deal?"
"I will be proud and happy to do so, Lazarus. An inscription should be in handwriting, should it not? I can modify the extensional I use to sign official papers for Ira-a mod so that the inscription handwriting will be different from his handwriting."
"Fine. If Ira behaves himself, you might consider dedicating the book to him and inscribe a copy to him. But I get the first copy. I'm senior-and I thought it up. But back to the search itself- I'm never going to read that twenty-volume opus, Minerva; I'm interested only in results. So tell me what you have so far."
"Lazarus, I have tentatively rejected over half the matrix as representing things the Archives show that you have done, or things that I assume that you would not wish to do-"
"Hold it! As the marine said, 'If I haven't done it, I'll try it.' What are these things you assume I wouldn't want to try? Let's hear 'em."
"Yes, sir. One submatrix, three thousand six hundred fifty pockets, all involve a probably fatal outcome, probability ninety-nine percent plus. First, exploring in corpus the interior of a star-"
"Scratch that one, I'll leave that to physicists. Besides, Lib and I did it once."
"The Archives did not show it, Lazarus."
"Lots of things not in the Archives. Go on."
"Modification of your genetic pattern to grow an amphibious clone capable of living in ocean waters."
"I'm not sure I'm that interested in fish. What's the catch?"
"Three catches, Lazarus, each hazardous by less than ninety-nine percent but, when taken in series, total almost unity. Such pseudohuman amphibians have been grown, but the viable ones-thus far-strongly resemble very large frogs. The chances of survival of such a creature against other denizens of the deep-figured for Secundus-have been theoretically calculated as even for seventeen days, twenty-five percent for thirty-four days, and so on."
"I think I could improve those odds. But I never have cared much for Russian roulette. The other hazards?"
"Installing your brain in the modified clone, then reinserting it into a normal clone at a later time. If you survived."
"Scratch that one. If I have to live underwater, I don't want to be a frog; I want to be the biggest, meanest shark in the ocean. Besides, I figure that, if living underwater was all that interesting, we would still be there. Give me another sample."
"A triple sample, sir. Lost in n-space with a ship, without a ship but with a suit, and without even a suit."
"Scratch 'em all. I've come closer than I like to think to the first two, and the third is just a silly way to drown in vacuum. Thin and unpleasant. Minerva, the All Powerful in His Majestic Wisdom-whatever that means-made it possible for humans to die peacefully. That being so, unless one is forced to, it is silly to do it the hard way. So scratch drowning in caterpillars and self-immolation and all silly ways to die. Very well, dear; you've convinced me that you know what you're talking about concerning those ninety-nine-plus hazards; scratch 'em all. Fm interested only in something new-new to me-in which the chances of surviving are better than fifty percent and in which a man who stays alert can enhance his chances. For example, I never hankered to go over high falls in a barrel. You can design the barrel to make it relatively safe; nevertheless, once you start, you are helpless. Which makes it a silly stunt-unless it's the safest way out of a worse predicament. Racing-cars, steeplechase, skis-is more interesting because each calls for skill. Yet I don't fancy that sort of danger, either. Danger for the sake of danger is for children who don't really believe they can be killed. Whereas I know I can be. So there are a lot of mountains I'll never climb. Unless I'm trapped, in which case I'll do it-have done it!-the easiest, safest, most chicken way I can figure out. Don't bother with anything in which the prime novelty is danger-danger is no novelty. It is simply something to be faced when you can't run. How about other pigeonholes in your box?"
"Lazarus, you could become female."
I do not think I have ever seen the Senior quite so startled (So was I, but the statement was not aimed at me.)
He went on slowly, "Minerva, I'm not sure what you mean Surgeons have been turning inadequate males into fake females for more than two thousand years-and females into fake males almost as long. I'm not attracted by such stunts. For good-or bad-I am male. I suppose that every human has wondered how it would feel to be the other sex. But all the plastic surgery and hormone treatments possible won't do it-those monsters don't reproduce."
"I am not speaking of monsters, Lazarus. A true change in sex."
"Mmm- You remind me of a tale I had almost forgotten. Not sure it's true. About a man, oh, must have been around 2000 A.D. Couldn't be much later because things went to pieces not long after. Supposed to have had his brain moved into a female body. Killed him, of course. Alien tissue rejection."
"Lazarus, this would not involve that hazard; it would be done with your own clone."
"Not bloody likely. Keep talking."