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speaking Galacta； and they must learn to read and write in it…and English； too： Many books he would have to use for their hurry…up education were in English。 Did he have tapes for the variation of Galacta spoken on Valhalla？ Well； kids their age quickly picked up local accent and idiom and vocabulary。
What was far more important was how to heal their stunted； uh； 〃souls。〃 Their personalities…how could he take full…grown domestic animals and turn them into able； happy human beings； educated in every needful way and capable of peting in a free society？ Willing to pete； undismayed by it…He was just beginning to see the size of the 〃stray cat〃 problem he had taken on。 Was he going to have to keep them as pets for fifty or sixty years or whatever； until they died naturally？
Long； long before that； the boy Woodie Smith had found a half…dead fox kit in the woods； apparently lost by its mother； or perhaps the vixen was dead。 He took it home； nursed it with a bottle； raised it in a cage through one winter。 In the spring he took it back where he had found it； left it there in the cage with the door latched open。
He checked a few days later； intending to salvage the cage。
He found the creature cowering in the cage； half starved and horribly dehydrated…with the door still latched open。 He took it home； again nursed it back to health； built a chickenwire run for it； and never again tried to turn it loose。 In the words of his grandfather； 〃The poor critter had never had a chance to learn how to be a fox。〃
第23节
Could he teach these cowed and ignorant animals how to be human？
They returned to his wardroom when 〃the little hand was straight out and the big hand was straight up〃…they waited outside the door until this was so； and Captain Sheffield pretended not to notice。
But when they came in； he glanced at the clock and said； 〃Right on time…good！ You've certainly shampooed； but remind me to find bs for you。〃 （What other toilet articles did they need？ Would he have to teach them how to use them？ And…oh； damn it！…was there anything in the ship for a woman's menstrual needs？ What could be improvised？ Well； with luck that problem would hold off a few days。 No point in asking her； she couldn't add。 Tarnation； the ship was not equipped for passengers。）
〃Sit down。 No； wait a moment。 e here； dear。〃 It seemed to the Captain that the garment she wore was clinging suspiciously； he felt it； it was wet。 〃Did you leave that on when you bathed？〃
〃No； Mas… No； Captain； I washed it。〃
〃I see。〃 He recalled that its gaudy pattern had been enhanced by coffee and other things while the girl was botching breakfast。 〃Take it off and hang it somewhere； don't let it dry on your body。〃
She started slowly to ply。 Her chin quivered…and he recalled how she had admired herself in a tall mirror when he bought it for her。 〃Wait a moment； Llita。 Joe； take off your breechclout。 And sandals。〃
The lad plied at once。
〃Thank you； Joe。 Don't put that clout back on without washing it； by now it's dirty even though it looks clean。 Don wear it under way unless it suits you。 You sit down。 Uh； were you wearing anything when I ***bosight*** you？〃
〃No 。 。 Captain。〃〃Am I wearing anything now？〃 〃No； Captain。〃
〃There are times and places to wear clothes…and othe times and places when clothes are silly。 If this were a passenger ship； we would all wear clothes and I would wear fancy uniform。 But it is not； and there is nobody here but m and your brother。 See that instrument there？ That's a thermic humidostat which tells the ship's puter to hold the temperature at twenty…seven Celsius and forty percent humidity with random variation to stimulate us…which may not mean anything to you but is my notion of fort in bare skin。 For an hour each afternoon it drops that temperature to encourage exercise； as flab is the curse of shipboard life。
〃If that cycle doesn't suit you two； we'll reach a promise。 But first we'll try it my way。 Now about that wet rag plastered to your hips…If you are stupid； you'll let it where it is and be unfortable。 If you are smart； you hang it up and let it dry without wrinkling。 That's a suggestion； not an order； if you wish； you may wear it at ai times。 But don't sit down with it on you； wet； there is no reason to get cushions wet。 Can you sew？〃
〃Yes； Captain。 Uh 。 。 some。〃
〃I'll see what I can dig up。 You are wearing the only woman's garment in the ship； and if you insist on clothes you'll need to make some for the months ahead。 You'll nee something for Valhalla； too： it's not as warm as Blessed。 Women there wear trousers and short coats； men wear trots sers and long coats； everyone wears boots。 I had three outfit custom…made on Landfall； maybe we can make do with then until I can get you two to a tailor。 Boots… Mine would fit you like socks on a rooster。 Hmm…We can wrap your feet so that a pair will stay on long enough to get you to a bootery。
〃We won't worry about that now。 Join the conference… standing up and wet； or sitting down and fortable。〃
Estrellita bit her lip and decided in favor of fort。
Minerva； those youngsters were brighter than I had as expected。 At first they studied because I told them to。 But once they tasted the magic of the printed word； they were hooked。 They learned to read like grass through a goose and didn't want to do anything else。 Especially stories。 I had a good library； mostly in micro； thousands of those； but also a few dozen valuable bound books； facsimile antiques I had picked up on Landfall where they speak English and use Galacta only as a trade tongue。 Savvy Oz books； Minerva？
Yes； of course you do； I helped plan the Great Library and included my childhood favorites as well as more sober things。 I did make sure that Joe and Llita read a spread of sober stuff but mostly I let them wallow in stories…The Just So Stories； and the Oz books； and Alice in Wonderland； and A Child's Garden of Verses； and Two Little Savages； and such。 Too limited； they were books from my childhood； three centuries before the Diaspora。 On the other hand； every human culture in the Galaxy derives from that one。
But I tried to make sure that they understood the difference between fiction and history…difficult； as I wasn't certain that there was a difference。 Then I had to explain that a fairy tale was still a different sort； one step farther along the spectrum from fact to fancy。
Minerva； this is very hard to explain to an inexperienced mind。 What is 〃magic〃？ You are more magical than any 〃magic〃 in fairy tales； and it does no good to say that you are a product of science； rather than magic； in speaking to kids who have no idea what is meant by 〃science〃…and I wasn't sure that the distinction ？as valid even when I was explaining the distinction。 In my wanderings I have run across magic many times…which simply says that I have seen wonders I could not explain。
I finally let it go by asserting ex cathedra that some stories were just for fun and not necessarily true…Gulliver's Travels were