Farnham's Freehold by Heinlein Robert A

Author:Heinlein, Robert A. [Heinlein, Robert A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy, Adventure
ISBN: 9781416520931
Amazon: 1416520937
Goodreads: 50840
Publisher: Baen Books
Published: 1964-11-01T08:00:00+00:00

12

Although he had been bathed that day, Hugh was rushed through another bath, rubbed down with fragrant cream, and issued a fresh robe, before being whizzed to the lord’s private apartments. There he was bounced past a series of receptionists close on Memtok’s heels, and into a large and very sumptuous retiring room.

The lord was not there; Joseph and Dr.-Livingstone-I-Presume were. Joe called out, “Hugh! Wonderful!” and added to the Chief Domestic, “You may go.”

Memtok hesitated, then backed away and left. Joe ignored him, slipped his arm in Hugh’s, and led him to a divan. “Gosh, it’s good to see you! Sit down, we’ll talk until Ponse gets here. You look well.” Doctor Livingstone checked Hugh’s ankles, purred and stropped against them.

“I am well. ‘Ponse’?” Hugh scratched the cat’s ears.

“Don’t you know his name? The Lord Protector, I mean. No, I guess you wouldn’t. That’s one of his names, one he uses en famille. Never mind, have they been treating you right?”

“I suppose so.”

“They had better. Ponse gave orders for you to be pampered. Look, if you aren’t treated okay, you tell me. I can fix it.”

Hugh hesitated. “Joe, have you had one of those odd whips used on you?”

“Me?” Joe seemed astonished. “Of course not. Hugh, have they been abusing you? Peel off that Mother Hubbard and let me have a look.”

Hugh shook his head. “There are no marks on me. I haven’t been hurt. But I don’t like it.”

“But if you’ve been stroked for no reason—Hugh, that’s one thing that Ponse does not tolerate. He’s a very humane sort of guy. All he wants is discipline. If anybody—anybody at all, even Memtok—has been cruel to you, somebody is going to catch it.”

Hugh thought about it. He rather liked his teachers. They had worked hard and patiently and had been sparing of him once it became possible to talk instead of using the whip. “I haven’t been hurt. Just reminded.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Actually, Hugh, I didn’t see how you could be. That quirt Ponse carries—you could kill a man with it at a thousand feet; it takes skill to use it gently. But those toys the upper servants carry, all they do is tingle and that’s all they are supposed to do.”

Hugh decided not to argue over what constituted a tingle; he had urgent things on his mind. “Joe, how are the others? Have you seen them?”

“Oh, they’re all right. You heard about Barbara?”

“I haven’t heard a damn thing! What about Barbara?”

“Slow down. Having her babies, I mean.”

“She had her baby?”

“‘Babies.’ Twin boys, identical. A week ago.”

“How is she? How is she?”

“Easy, man! She’s fine, couldn’t be better. Of course. They are way ahead of us in medicine; losing a mother, or a baby, is unheard of.” Joe suddenly looked sad. “It’s a shame they didn’t run across us months back.” He brightened. “Barbara told me that she had intended to name it Karen, if it was a girl. When it turned out to be twin boys, she named one—the one five minutes the elder—‘Hugh’ and the other ‘Karl Joseph.

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