Part 2

Lucy's cheeks took on a rosy shade. Apparently preoccupied with her own thoughts, she made no reply. She followed the blonde girl out of the room and Cornith sat on the edge of the desk to wait. He wished now that he had not posed the problem. He could think of a thousand reasons why it would be interesting to be married to such an intensely alive creature. And he wasn't deceived about what were termed her bad qualities. They were the result of a training pattern. They were not her basic personality and they were not deeply ingrained. In fact, she could be, and was, everything he wanted in a woman. He had made up his mind to ask her to marry him even if she failed to solve the problem, when she and the blonde returned.

* * * * *

There were faint beads of moisture on the lobes of Lucy's ears, and the rose-colored dress hung awry. "Didn't have time to dry thoroughly, and had to jump into my clothes. Hurry! We're going to be married. Right now!"

"How much do you weigh?"

"One twenty-two, fourteen and three-quarter ounces. But I'll weigh one twenty-three within twenty minutes."

Cornith shook his head. "Stubborn," he told himself. "Bluffing. Lying. I ought to teach her a lesson."

"I'm going to put a clause in the ceremony," he said aloud, "that if you don't weigh exactly a hundred and twenty-three pounds, we're not legally married."

"You're so clever," she smiled. "I was going to do that myself."

"Game, anyway," Cornith mused, as he followed her hurriedly out to the chute and up to the roof.

"We'll get married and then you can weigh me," she said. "And if I don't weigh one twenty-three--" Her brow puckered. "Gee! I hope I've got it figured right."

"If you don't weigh a hundred and twenty-three, it won't be legal," Cornith insisted. "I'm going to put in that clause."

A look of pain showed in her features for an instant, then it was gone and she led the way to a sky-taxi.

"There's a hurry-up marrying place ten minutes away," she said. "Same altitude. Near sea level. We can get married in a hurry there."

Cornith shrugged. "Tell the driver."

Thirty minutes later they were married, with the cancelling clause included. Cornith thought now that he had carried the joke too far. Lucy seemed on the verge of tears. Besides, they would not be legally and finally married until after he had weighed her. And he knew now that she meant to abide strictly by the words of the ceremony, that if the scales showed less than a hundred and twenty-three pounds she would not consider herself married. He thought of finagling the scales. But she went along with him to buy them, and insisted that they be checked and sealed to the hundredth of an ounce. Cornith knew now that she was not only a liar, but the most sincere and conscientious person he had ever known.

* * * * *

He felt cheap and mean and low as he accompanied her into the bridal suite he had engaged via pocket-communicator. He placed the scales on the floor and felt as though he had deliberately cheated and tricked an innocent child. He could see that Lucy was uncertain of herself. He could feel the tremors of fear that shook her, the doubts, the questions of right and wrong, the wondering what all this was going to do to her happiness. He would have traded his hunting lodge on Mars just for the privilege of going back and changing it all and telling her that she was perfect at a hundred and twenty-two pounds, fifteen ounces, and need never change an iota to please him.

She turned slowly to face him, and two crystal tears formed in the corners of her azure eyes. "Just one kiss," she begged. "Because I might fail, and that means the end."

Cornith held her close. He wished there was something he could do to comfort her, to change it all, but he knew the depth of her sincerity, and he knew that she would offer no excuse, would accept no failure even from herself. Indeed, her whole happiness, it seemed, depended upon her promise that she would fill the specifications even to that final ounce.

She pushed him away and smiled through her tears. "I'm losing weight by crying," she said. "Gee, golly! I hope I've figured it right."

"Dripping wet," he said. "Leave the suds on if you wish."

She shook her head. "That wouldn't be honest." She broke away, ran to the bathroom. She stepped inside the bathroom and drew the door shut. Cornith stood there alone, and suddenly he felt as though his own weight had increased. Something was gone, locked away from him, something that had been vitally alive and warm and colorful. He walked over to the window and stood looking down at the street below. It was filled with life, but its life seemed alien, remote. His ears picked up the faint sound of the shower, and he knew that his thoughts would always hereafter be filled with the memory of how close he had come to happiness.

He heard the bathroom door open softly, but he didn't dare look. His heart was too heavy. Then he heard the soft, tremulous voice. "I've got soap in my eyes. Come look at the scales. Don't look at me. I'm dripping wet."

Cornith turned slowly, caught his breath. The vision that met his eyes was a loveliness transcending his wildest dreams. The coruscating beads of water were like flashing jewels adorning a soft pink and white body, vitally alive and yet trembling in fear. He stepped quickly to the scales and looked.

* * * * *

A warm glow started at his feet and rushed upward, making him giddy as it swept over his neck and face and on into his brain. The scales showed a hundred and twenty-three pounds and four one-hundredths of an ounce. He glanced up. She had wiped the soap out of her eyes and those azure orbs were flashing a surge of joy unparalleled.

Cornith sprang to take her in his arms, but she leaped away, raced to the bathroom, slammed the door and locked it.

"Come on out," he said. "You saw the scales."

"I'm not coming out," she called back, "until you figure out how I did it."

"Don't be silly."

"I'm a determined woman, Herb darling!"

And Cornith knew that it was true. There was nothing left but to get to work and figure out how she had accomplished the seeming miracle. He drew out a chair at the writing desk, found paper and felt for his pen. He stated the problem, cancelling out eating and drinking, for he had been with her all of the time and she had not taken anything. He thought that perhaps she and the blonde had lied about her original weight. But that didn't fit. She had been sincerely worried about whether she would succeed. Ah! There it was.

He went to work and in three minutes he had two pages filled with figures, ciphers and symbols. He smiled grimly to himself and worked on. Ten minutes passed. He heard her call from the bathroom, but did not answer. He was engrossed with the problem. He worked on and on, eliminating variables, restating the problem, beginning anew with a different theory, working on and on. An hour passed.

With the desk and floor littered, Cornith paused reflectively. He heard a soft movement behind him, then Lucy's voice said, "I couldn't wait any longer. I've come to help you."

"Don't bother me now," Cornith said. He jotted down another row of numerals, then leaned back and sighed.

Two warm arms went around his neck. "Was it so difficult?" she asked. "I figured it out in no time. It's just that gravity differs at the poles and the equator. It is slightly more at the poles. About one in fifty, I think. I didn't know for certain. But on that basis I figured there would be a change in specific gravity of about an ounce every hundred miles or so. I had to guess at it. That's why I was so frightened. Anyway, we flew over two hundred miles north to this hurry-up place. Do you understand it, darling?"

"You mean, about your weight and the difference in gravity between the equator and the poles?"

"Yes, darling."

"I figured that out in the first three seconds after I sat down. I've been computing your basic personality, trying to figure out how long you would remain in the bathroom before coming out to help me. I missed it somewhere. I figured you'd be in there another two hours. I'll have to check my figures. Go away."

"Oh, no, you won't recheck them." She placed a hand over the paper. "On this one I'm going to help. The error is right there. You didn't allow enough for the volume and strength of my love to cancel out the volume and strength of my determination and resistance. Square resistance and raise love to the power of ten. And now if you don't give me a big kiss, I'll revert to the specifications and steal one."

In the next instant she was crushed in his strong arms. And her ears were wiggling ecstatically.