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Hazel squeezed my arm but the darling kept quiet; I think she can read my
emotions-she always knows my needs. I stomped straight ahead, spine straight,
barely steadying myself with my cane, and not seeing the interior of the ship.
Then the pipes shut down and I could breathe again.
Behind us was Hilda. I think she had hung back to keep the musical salutes
separated. Hers was a light and airy tune 1 could not place; it seemed to be
played on silver bells, or possibly a celesta. Hazel told me the name of it:
"Jezebel"- but I could not place it.
Lazarus's quarters were so lavish that I wondered how fancy the flag cabin
of "Commodore" Hilda might be. Hazel settled down in his lounge as if she
belonged there. But I did not stay; a bulkhead blinked, and Lazarus ushered me
on through. Beyond lay a boardroom suitable for a systemwide corporation: a
giant conference table, each place at it furnished with padded armchair, scratch
pad, stylus, froster of water, terminal with printer, screen, keyboard,
microphone, and hushfield-and I must add that I saw little of this bountiful
junk in use; Dora made it unnecessary, being perfect secretary to all of us
while also offering and serving refreshments.
(I could never get over the feeling that there was a live girl named Dora
somewhere out of sight. But no mortal girl could have kept all the eggs in the
air that Dora did
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