me, it was blood of my blood. Flesh of my--"
"Flesh," Doon interrupted. "So you're religious after all."
"I don't remember," Herman said. "Something happened to my memory, Abner Doon, and I'm not sure of everything. Was I religious? Or was it someone else?"
Doon's eyes filled with sorrow and he reached out to the old man sitting on a soft chair. Doon knelt and embraced him. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I didn't know what it would cost you. I truly didn't."
Herman only laughed. "Oh, I didn't have any bets out that waking. It didn't cost me a dime."
Doon only held him tighter and said, again, "I'm sorry, Grandfather, "
"Oh, well, I don't mind losing," Herman answered. "In the long run, it was only a game, wasn't it?"
LIFELOOP
Jellicle Cats are black and white, Jellicle Cats are rather small; Jellicle Cats are merry and bright, And pleasant to hear when they caterwaul.
-- T. S. Eliot, The Song of the Jellicles
Arran lay on her bed, weeping. The sound of the door slamming still rang through her flat. Finally she rolled over, looked at the ceiling, wiped tears away delicately with her fingers, and then said, "What the hell."
Dramatic pause. And then, at last (at long last) a loud buzzer sounded. "All clear, Arran," said the voice from the concealed speaker, and Arran groaned, swung around to sit on the bed, unstrapped the loop recorder from her naked leg, and threw it tiredly against the wall. It smashed.
"Do you have any idea how much that equipment costs?" Triuff asked, reproachfully.
"I pay you to know," Arran said, putting on a robe. Triuff found the tie and handed it to her. As Arran threaded it through the loops, Triuff exulted. "The best ever. A hundred billion Arran Handully fans are aching to pay their seven chops to get in to watch. And you gave it to them."
"Seventeen days," Arran said, glaring at the other woman. "Seventeen stinking days. And three of them with that bastard Courtney."
"He's paid to be a bastard. It's his persona."
"He's pretty damned convincing. If you get me even three minutes with him next time, I'll sack you."
Arran strode out of her flat, barefoot and clad only in the robe. Triuff followed, her high-heeled shoes making a clicking rhythm that, to Arran anyway, always seemed to be saying, "Money, money, money." Except when it was saying, "Screw your mother, screw your mother." Good manager. Billions in the bank.
"Arran," Triuff said. "I know you're very tired."
"Ha," Arran said.
"But while you were recording I had time to do a little business--"
"While I was recording you had time to manufacture a planet!" Arran snarled. "Seventeen days! I'm an actress, I'm not going for the guiness. I'm the highest paid actress in history, I think you said in your latest press releases. So why do I work my tail off for seventeen days when I'm only awake for twenty-one? Four lousy days of peace, and then the marathon."
"A little business," Triuff went on, unperturbed. "A little business that will let you retire."
"Retire?" And without thinking, Arran slowed down her pace.
"Retire. Imagine-- awake for three weeks, and only guest appearances in other poor slobs' loops. Getting paid for having fun."
"Nights to myself?"
"We'll turn off the recorder."
Arran scowled. Triuff amended: "You can even take the thing off!"
"And what do I have to do to earn so much? Have an affair with a gorilla?"
"It's been done," Triuff said, "and it's beneath you. No, this time we give them total reality. Total!"
"What do we give them now? Sure, you want me crap in a glass toilet!"
"I've made arrangements," Triuff said, "to have a loop recorder in the Sleeproom."
Arran Handully gasped and stared at her manager. "In the Sleeproom! Is nothing sacred!" And then Arran laughed. "You must have spent a fortune! An absolute fortune!"
"Actually, only one bribe was necessary."
"Who'd you bribe, Mother?"
"Very close. Better, in fact, since Mother hasn't got the power to pick her nose without the consent of the Cabinet. It's Farl Baak."
"Baak! And here I thought he was a decent man."
"It wasn't a bribe. At least, not for money."
Arran squinted at Triuff. "Triuff," she said, "I told you that I was willing to act out twenty-four-hour-a-day love affairs. But I choose my own lovers off-camera."
"You'll be able to retire."
"I'm not a whore!"
"And he said he wouldn't even sleep with you, if you didn't want. He just asked for twenty-four hours with you two wakings from now. To talk. To become friends."
Arran leaned against the wall of the corridor. "It'll