Lucy Hollowell withdrew her hand and a deck of cards materialized from
nowhere and spread out fanwise between her small thumb and forefinger.
Cornith gaped. In the next instant his attention was attracted to her
ears which peeked from beneath silken platinum hair. The ears were
wiggling enchantingly.
Flushed and hot, Cornith reached to his breast pocket for a
handkerchief. He was astonished to find a large Spanish rose protruding
from the pocket. He held it in his hand and stared at it in stunned
silence. Lucy Hollowell extended a small white hand and took the rose
from him. She held it against her cheek until he saw that her lips and
the rose were the same color. Then she fastened it in her platinum hair
where its warm red petals contrasted brilliantly.
"Er, uh. I was saying--" Cornith began lamely.
"That she's a bag of bones," a voice behind him finished.
Cornith whirled, and the same voice in a distant part of the room said,
"Over here!" Cornith jumped. He puzzled for a moment and then it dawned
over him that those small voices had the same deep huskiness that Lucy
Hollowell's voice had. He turned back to her and smiled weakly.
"You were inviting me to go to the laboratory with you?" Lucy said.
Cornith nodded. "Thought it might interest--" He broke off abruptly,
his mouth hanging open. He could not believe his ears. He was hearing
his own voice, or a fair imitation of it, repeating his earlier words,
"Gawky ... beanpole ... tagging...."
"Stop that!" he said abruptly.
* * * * *
Silence reigned and Lucy Hollowell remained in rigid immobility. And
while Cornith stared, her peachblown cheeks became pink, then red. The
veins in her lovely neck swelled and throbbed. She turned slowly on
tottering legs and gently collapsed into Cornith's arms.
"What th--?" He twisted his neck and looked at the blonde in frantic
appeal. "What's the matter with her? Can't you do something?"
"Your requirements demand," the blonde replied unemotionally, "a woman
who is very obedient. When you told her to 'stop that!' she stopped
everything, including breathing."
"Oh!" Cornith sighed in relief. "So that's it!"
"Better tell her to begin breathing again," the blonde said casually.
"But the requirements shouldn't be taken that literally," Cornith
argued.
"She won't take everything literally. An understanding between you
will straighten that out. But meanwhile, you'd better tell her to
breathe again."
Cornith looked down at the lovely face which had now regained its
normal peachblown color. He was astonished to see a tiny bit of deep
azure beneath an eyelid that wasn't quite closed. Instantly the lid
closed tightly, quivered a trifle and remained shut. Cornith's mind
worked swiftly, reconstructing events from the beginning, and he
recalled the swelling veins, the careful turning to fall into his arms,
the flushed cheeks which were not the color that normally precedes
fainting. He noticed now the shallow, controlled breathing, and he felt
a slight tremor in the soft warm body he held in his arms.
Drawing her close, Cornith said, "This ought to make her snap out of
it," and pressed his lips firmly against hers.
"No, no, Mr. Cornith!" the blonde exclaimed. "The requirements say that
she is supposed to swoon when you do that."
It was true. Lucy Hollowell seemed to revive and then swoon in ecstasy.
She slumped limply in Cornith's arms while a faint tremor ran through
her warm body. To make certain the results were mathematically precise,
Cornith tried again, kissing her a little more firmly this time. The
response was the same. In the interest of science, he tested the matter
a third time, and then turned raptly to the blonde.
"Look! She swoons everytime I kiss her."
"Naturally, Mr. Cornith," the blonde commented a trifle bitterly. "Your
requirements demand that, even though it is thought by some members
of the Foundation that you were in a facetious mood when you took the
Levet examination. They suspect that you implanted a large number of
suggestions prior to the event, to bias your responses in a manner not
in keeping with the seriousness of the occasion. That is not a problem
for this department. We have provided you with a woman who fulfills
every requirement stated--"
"She's underweight," Cornith insisted.
"Does she look too thin?"
"No! She's perfect. But she lacks an ounce--"
* * * * *
Smack! A small white hand struck Cornith's cheek resoundingly and
brought the blood stinging to the surface. He almost dropped the girl.
She got her long, slender legs under her and supported her own weight.
Smack! Another small hand caught Cornith stingingly on the other cheek.
He drew a deep breath, felt his muscles contracting.
"Now, now, Mr. Cornith!" the blonde warned. "The specifications demand
that your wife shall have plenty of fire."
"That doesn't give her a right to knock my head off," Cornith
blustered. "Besides, she's not my wife!"
"Are you hurt, darling?" Lucy Hollowell said sympathetically. "I'm
sorry! Here! Let me kiss your cheeks and make them well."
"What th--?"
"Now, now, Mr. Cornith! She's supposed to be sympathetic and
understanding and very tender when you need her."
"I don't need that sort of sympathy and understanding."
"Look!" Lucy Hollowell cupped his chin in one soft hand and forced him
to look at her. "My ears!" They were wiggling again in rhythm with the
soft strains of a waltz coming from some hidden source.
"Stop that! No, no, no! Don't stop breathing. Just stop wiggling your
ears. Don't faint. Stand still. And stop plucking coins out of the air.
And if that's you making that music, stop that, too."
Silence reigned. Lucy Hollowell remained perfectly still. The
expression on her lovely features was one of interest and concern. Her
ripe lips quivered slightly. "You don't like me?" she said.
"I do, too."
Instantly the girl was all over Cornith, hugging him and kissing him at
the same time and murmuring endearments.
"Hey!"
"Now, now, Mr. Cornith. She's supposed to be very responsive to words
of love."
"I didn't say anything about love."
"You said you liked her."
"I merely said, 'I do, too'."
"But she's supposed to understand even when you don't put everything in
words."
"When is she supposed to stop this--this necking?"
"She will let you alone when you want to be let alone."
Lucy Hollowell stepped back, patted her platinum hair and glanced at
her image in a small mirror. Then she smiled sweetly at Cornith and
returned to his side. "Shall we go?" she said.
This sudden change in mood and recovery of self-possession, after her
demonstration of a moment before, was more than Cornith could readily
grasp. The blonde supplied the answer.
"Her moods change with the situation and needs of the moment."
* * * * *
Cornith scratched his dark head. "I don't know," he commented
reflectively. "I didn't think any woman in the world would fit the
requirements I put in. At eighteen I thought the whole idea was stupid.
I didn't want to get married."
"Of course," Lucy said understandingly. "You still think those
examinations and tests and specifications are stupid. I understand.
And you put in a lot of things you didn't want. But I had to meet the
requirements, and my reactions and responses had to be some actual part
of me, not ad lib. I can change them in time."
"She's very understanding, Mr. Cornith, and eager to please."
"But it's all nonsense," Cornith insisted.
"Of course it is," Lucy said sympathetically. "It isn't right for you
to have to marry a girl who meets all of the requirements you didn't
want. I know just how you feel, and after we're married we'll work
together to amend the Foundation regulations."
"I didn't say I'd marry you."
"Of course you didn't. And it isn't fair for you to have to do it. I
know just how you feel. And I'll comfort you all I can. Here you have
a woman on your hands whose reactions are everything you thought was
silly. Because you're a scientist and don't like nonsense. At least,
not too much of it. And you put all those things in, thinking that
everybody would see how silly they were. You didn't think anybody would
be stupid enough actually to be like that. I feel so sorry for you,
having to marry a woman with all those silly things ingrained in her
reactions."
"We're not married yet."
"That's the worst part. It's that anxiety before an event of doubtful
outcome. I'm so sorry, darling! Put your head here on my breast and
let me comfort you."
"Dash it!"
"Now, now, Mr. Cornith. The specifications ... a woman of deep
feeling ... ready to comfort."
"Dash it! Dash it! Dash it!"
"Now, now, Mr. Cornith! If you give way to your feelings, no telling
what might happen. That's one of the things you didn't anticipate.
There's nothing in the specifications--"
"Here!" Lucy opened her handbag and drew out a flask. "You need a
drink. Brace up. There are worse things than being married."
"I don't drink." Cornith seized the flask and tossed off a swallow.
"Ah! Martian Vinth! Never touch the stuff." He took another swallow.
"Now I don't have to marry you. I deliberately specified that my wife
should not be a Vinth sot."
"Herb darling, you're so clever! I detest the stuff. But I happened to
know that scientists drink it to strengthen their minds and to keep
their health up. I brought it along to prove how thoughtful I am. I
also have in my handbag a length of chewing rope."