Flesh by Philip José Farmer

his head. “No, I just haven’t the stomach for it. God only knows what would happen if I spent the night there. I wouldn’t be surprised if he offered me his wife.”
    Churchill laughed and said, “I don’t think so. Whitrow’s no Eskimo. And don’t think that just because they’re loose in talk they may not have a far stricter sexual code, in some ways, than we had in our time. What are you going to do?”
    “I’m going to find some sort of motel and spend the night there. What are you going to do?”
    “Just now I think Robin intends to take me out on the town. Later, I’m to spend the night here. I don’t want to throw away this opportunity. Whitrow could be the wedge to get us into a nice position in Deecee. Washington hasn’t changed in some respects; it still pays to know somebody with pull.”
    Sarvant held out his hand. His nutcracker face was serious.
    “God be with you,” he said, and walked away into the darkness of the street.
    Robin came back around the corner of the house. She was holding the leash in one hand and in the other she held a large leather bag. Evidently she’d spent time in doing more than snapping the leash on the lioness’ collar. Even though the moon furnished the only light, Churchill could see that she had changed her clothes and had put on fresh make-up. She had also exchanged her sandals for high-heeled shoes.
    “Where did your friend go?” she said.
    “Somewhere to spend the night.”
    “Good! I didn’t like him very much. And I was afraid that I would have to be rude and not invite him to come along with us.”
    “I can’t imagine you being rude—and don’t waste too much sympathy on him. I think he likes to suffer. Where are we going?”
    “I was thinking of going to the concert in the park. But that would mean sitting still too long. We could go to the amusement park. Did you have such things in your time?”
    “Yes. It might be interesting to see if they’ve changed much. But I don’t care where I go. Just as long as I’m with you.”
    “I thought you liked me,” she said, smiling.
    “What man wouldn’t? But I must admit I’m surprised that you seem to like me so much. I’m not much to look at, just a redhaired wrestler with a face like a baby’s.”
    “I like babies,” she replied, laughing. “But you needn’t act surprised. I’ll bet you’ve laid a hundred girls.”
    Churchill winced. He wasn’t as insensitive to the direct speech of Deecee as Sarvant had thought.
    He was wise enough not to boast. He said, “I can truthfully swear you’re the first woman I’ve touched in eight hundred years.”
    “Great Columbia, it’s a wonder you don’t explode all over the place!”
    She laughed merrily, but Churchill blushed. He was glad that they were not in a bright light.
    “I’ve an idea,” she said. “Why don’t we go sailing tonight? There’s a full moon, and the Potomac will be beautiful. And we can get away from this heat. There’ll be a breeze.”
    “Fine, but it’s a long walk.”
    “Virginia preserve us! You didn’t think we’d walk? Our carriage is in back, waiting.”
    She reached into the pocket of her bell-shaped skirt and pulled out a small whistle. Immediately following the shrill sound came the beat of hoofs and the crunch of gravel under wheels. Churchill assisted her aboard. The lioness leaped after them and lay down on the floor at their feet. The driver shouted, “Giddyap!” and the carriage sped down the moonlit street. Churchill wondered why she wanted to bring along the lioness, since two armed servants rode the platform on the rear of the carriage. He decided that having Alice along was being doubly fortified. She would be worth ten men in a fight.
    The three got down off the carriage. Robin ordered the servants to wait until she came back from the sail. On the way down the long steps to the ship, Churchill said, “Won’t they get bored, just waiting for us?”
    “I don’t think so. They’ve got a