"The Kid was ready with an answer. 'Do y' know why we wear clothes
made only of vegetable or synthetic fibers and not any animal wool,
hide or fur?'
"'Sure, any fool knows that,' Akermann said. 'The cotton lobby had a
law passed.'
"'I'm serious,' the Kid told him disgustedly.
"'Howdy,' our learned chemist said happily, sticking out his hand.
'I'm Akermann.'
"The Kid must have finally decided that his boss was even more
advanced in brandy shock than he was if it was possible--and it was.
He picked another chemist, Harry North, as his new straight man and,
squinting one eye a bit in an effort to keep him in focus, said,
'Harry, do _you_ know why we don't wear wool 'n stuff like that?'
"'Sure,' Harry answered. 'The _Handbook_ says animal fibers are
protein an' if the puffs get a foothold on any article of clothing
made of 'em, then their rootlets c'n penetrate most any kind of goo
an' fasten into the guy that happens to be so stupid. Then someone has
to give him the treatment to keep him from scratching right down to
the liver an' lights.'
"The Kid's punch line was trying to get out so bad that he was about
to blow a tube. 'That's right, Harry,' he smiled patronizingly. 'Now
if Prunella was to wear somethin' like that, do y' spose the puffs
would get 'er?'
"Harry was still puzzled. 'Sure they would, but she's not gonna do it.
_Handbook_ says not to, n' even gives a long list of stuff _not_ to
wear. Nope, she won't.'
"'I know there's a list, but one nitrogenous fiber didn't get on it.
Silk is a protein--fibroin--but it's not on the list.'
"'Silk? Why should silk be on the list?' Martin, a big, beefy
physicist, was red-faced and indignant. 'It's too expensive and
fragile for ordinary wear an' besides, no self-respecting spaceman _I_
ever knew would be caught dead in a silk undershirt or a silk anything
else! What d'you think those guys are, a bunch of women to go around
wearing sil--' He stopped abruptly, staring at the Kid with something
like awe. 'Do you think we can get 'er into something made of silk?'
he asked humbly, as befits a man when he speaks to a superior being.
"There was a respectful silence as the group waited for Mr. Paulson,
formerly the Kid, to speak.
"Mr. Paulson clapped his hand over his mouth, said 'Urp' between his
clenched fingers, turned a remarkable shade of green and looked about
him like a trapped animal. A few of his admirers led him through a
small door, no doubt to worship silently at his feet while he rested
after his soul-shaking ordeal. It was clear that Mr. Paulson had given
his all for the cause."
* * * * *
Lee said, "The door slid shut on Mr. Paulson's pain-racked exit, its
latching hiss drowned by the simultaneous demand of the committee,
individually, for the attention of the committee, collectively. Each
of them considered himself the sole person present capable of carrying
on the great work for which Mr. Paulson had so nobly sacrificed
himself. Ordinarily sedate doctors of this or that gibbered at each
other in an arm-waving, frenzied attempt to be heard.
"In a matter of seconds, half the committee had the other half backed
into chairs, against tables and into corners, earnestly explaining in
a conspiratorial roar just how Prunella was to be enticed into wearing
the silken booby-trap.
"The committee gradually shouted itself into a red-faced, thirsty
semi-hoarseness only to find a demon--ne Shulman, our top
botanist--guarding the inspirational keg with a heavy stool and
promising a swift and personal drought to any man who didn't shut up
on the spot. I need not say that we shut nor that order was fast in
coming among us.
"In the comparative quiet that followed, there was a rapid-fire
shifting of ideas, deleting some, adding to others, and Prunella was
doomed. The plot wasn't _too_ thick. It depended only on the fact that
an expert's eye was needed to detect the difference between sheer
Enduron, the newest and best of the synthetic fibers, and sheer silk.
By the same token, the reverse was true. That is, given silk, one
could easily mistake it for Enduron.
"The services of a woman on Terra were necessary to us, so Sparks
magnanimously recruited his young sister, a writer or artist or
something of the sort, who lives somewhere in southern Europe. All she
had to do was buy a dozen pairs of the fluffiest, frilliest, most
outrageously feminine silk undies she could find in the most chi-chi
shop in Paris and then send them to Prunella with a note honoring her
as the first woman on Xenon and asking Prunella to accept them as a
token of admiration from one woman to another. Some fictitious name
was to be signed to it.
"We raided the office, obtained Prunella's file and copied out the
proper measurements from it. Sparks fed the message, measurements and
a blank signed photo-check into the coder and the automatic ultra-wave
transmitter took it with a swift _blip_ of sound and that was that."
* * * * *
I waited for Lee to catch his breath, which he did by inhaling from a
full glass. Then he continued talking.
"All this occurred about the middle of Xenon's third month. We
expected the skivies to arrive on a supply ship due the first of the
following month, which gave us nearly three Earth weeks to wait, but
we didn't mind. After all, we had something to wait _for_.
"The ship, bless the crew, was on schedule almost to the hour. Adams
had had his wide-angle 'scope aimed at the sky above Xenon since long
before breakfast, and he and the detectors ran a dead heat when the
ship winked out of sub-space about two million or so miles out.
"By mid-morning, the ship's gravitors had floated her into the field
for the usual feather-light landing, and mail call, always the first
order of business, was over.
"Women have a well-deserved reputation for dawdling over trifles when
important matters wait, but that morning Prunella broke all previous
records. She gossiped with the ship's captain about interminable
bills of lading, she inspected the field for any possible damage by
the ship, she swallowed enough coffee to start a fair-sized shortage.
Finally, just in time to save the station from a mass nervous
collapse, she left the office for her quarters, carrying her mail in
one hand and that small, all-important package in the other.
"She reappeared for lunch wearing the tiny smile of a woman who knows
she is appreciated by _someone_ and, we hoped, also wearing something
else not quite so visible. Never was one so closely watched by so
many. If she looked distressed, we gloated. If she squirmed in her
chair, we rejoiced. Her every move was analyzed for possible puff
symptoms.
"Prunella, that evening, dined as the captain's guest aboard ship. In
the mess hall, with Mr. Paulson installed in the seat of honor, the
arguments were long, loud and heated: She had 'em on. She didn't. The
puffs had her. They didn't.
"I hadn't realized there were so many synonyms for fool and idiot or
so many genteel ways to sneer until my learned colleagues that night
debated the case of the puffs versus Prunella. We went to bed still in
an agony of indecision."
* * * * *
Lee waited for me to be appropriately sympathetic. I obliged.
"The next morning, Prunella had breakfast alone in her quarters, but
then she often did. Or I should say she ordered breakfast sent and
then ate only a little of it and sent it back. A short while later,
Prunella left her room, went to the library and returned to her
quarters with a spool of microfilm in her hand. All the people who
could cram into the tiny library cubicle were in before the hiss of
Prunella's closing door died away. A wild rape of the library files
improved our digestions, dispositions and belief in the ultimate
triumph of good over evil--Prunella had withdrawn the film on 'Effects
of Xenon Life-forms on the Human Body.'
"I learned later that some far-sighted soul had added lurid details to
the section of the film dealing with the puffs, describing minutely
what one could expect after powder puff infestation. Odd thing about a
few of those added details--some of the more horrible ones had never
been noticed before nor have they been reported since.
"Prunella went aboard the supply ship _Hunter_ shortly after noon,
scratching determinedly in several places that no lady should, at
least in public.
"The captain, most of his loading done and seeing her dire need,
blasted off for Terra immediately and flipped into sub-space much
closer to the planet than he should have. Prunella was on Terra that
same night, Xenon time. The captain told me on his next trip that
Pruny had commandeered both quarantine nurses at Polar Space Field to
work on her. It still took the two women several hours to finish,
according to him. She must have been covered with the things. Bet she
looked as though she were sprouting fur."
"One thing I don't understand," I told Lee. "You kept referring to a
'treatment' of some kind for the powder puffs. Didn't Prunella know
about it? If she did, I don't see why she didn't take it on Xenon.
Surely, at the risk of being insubordinate, you didn't deny it to her
if she had ordered it."
"Quite the contrary, Sam. Prunella knew all about the 'treatment.' And
in spite of your suspicions as to our hard hearts, many of us offered
our services after leering in what we hoped was a suggestive manner.
You see, Sam, the mysterious treatment consisted of nothing more than
a very close examination of every square centimeter of the skin with a
high-power magnifier and using a pair of fine tweezers to pull out the
puff rootlets. But in addition to all of Prunella's other faults
and/or virtues, Prunella was a prude."
We drank a silent toast to pure womanhood.
--JACK TAYLOR
* * * * *