Free The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein

trying to lubricate new acquaintance into
friendship? Or was it his skewed notion of humor—joke on me? Didn’t
ask.
    But
as pattern completed Wyob wrote a note on phone’s memo pad:
“Mannie, re—17, 51, 53, 87, 90, & 99—Mike is a
she!”
    I
let it go with a shrug, stood up. “Mike, twenty-two hours since
I’ve had sleep. You kids chat as long as you want to. Call you
tomorrow.”
    “Goodnight,
Man. Sleep well. Wyoh, are you sleepy?”
    “No,
Mike, I had a nap. But, Mannie, we’ll keep you awake. No?”
    “No.
When I’m sleepy, I sleep.” Started making couch into bed.
    Wyoh
said, “Excuse me, Mike,” got up, took sheet out of my hands.
“I’ll make it up later. You doss over there,
tovarishch
;
you’re bigger than I am. Sprawl out.”
    Was
too tired to argue, sprawled out, asleep at once. Seem to remember hearing in
sleep giggles and a shriek but never woke enough to be certain.
    Woke
up later and came fully awake when I realized was hearing two fem voices, one
Wyoh’s warm contralto, other a sweet, high soprano with French accent.
Wyoh chuckled at something and answered, “All right, Michelle dear,
I’ll call you soon. ‘Night, darling.”
    “Fine.
Goodnight, dear.”
    Wyoh
stood up, turned around. “Who’s your girl friend?” I asked.
Thought she knew no one in Luna City. Might have phoned Hong Kong … had
sleep-logged feeling was some reason she shouldn’t phone.
    “That?
Why, Mike, of course. We didn’t mean to wake you.”
    “What?”
    “Oh.
It was actually Michelle. I discussed it with Mike, what sex he was, I mean. He
decided that he could be either one. So now she’s Michelle and that was
her voice. Got it right the first time, too; her voice never cracked once.”
    “Of
course not; just shifted voder a couple of octaves. What are you trying to do:
split his personality?”
    “It’s
not just pitch; when she’s Michelle its an entire change in manner and
attitude. Don’t worry about splitting her personality; she has plenty for
any personality she needs. Besides, Mannie, it’s much easier for both of
us. Once she shifted, we took our hair down and cuddled up and talked girl talk
as if we had known each other forever. For example, those silly pictures no
longer embarrassed me—in fact we discussed my pregnancies quite a lot.
Michelle was terribly interested. She knows all about O.B. and G.Y. and so forth
but just theory—and she appreciated the raw facts. Actually, Mannie,
Michelle is much more a woman than Mike was a man.”
    “Well
… suppose it’s okay. Going to be a shock to me first time I call
Mike and a woman answers.”
    “Oh,
but she won’t!”
    “Huh?”
    “Michelle
is my friend. When you call, you’ll get Mike. She gave me a number to
keep it straight—’Michelle’ spelled with a Y. M Y, C, H, E,
L, L, E, and Y, Y, Y make it come out ten.”
    I
felt vaguely jealous while realizing it was silly. Suddenly Wyoh giggled.
“And she told me a string of new jokes, ones you wouldn’t think
were funny—and, boy, does she know rough ones!”
    “Mike—or
his sister Michelle—is a low creature. Let’s make up couch.
I’ll switch.”
    “Stay
where you are. Shut up. Turn over. Go back to sleep.” I shut up, turned
over, went back to sleep.
    Sometime
much later I became aware of “married” feeling—something warm
snuggled up to my back. Would not have wakened but she was sobbing softly. I
turned and got her head on my arm, did not speak. She stopped sobbing;
presently breathing became slow and even. I went back to sleep.

5
    We
must have slept like dead for next thing I knew phone was sounding and its
light was blinking. I called for room lights, started to get up, found a load
on right upper arm, dumped it gently, climbed over, answered.
    Mike
said, “Good morning, Man. Professor de la Paz is talking to your home
number.”
    “Can
you switch it here? As a ‘Sherlock’?”
    “Certainly,
Man.”
    “Don’t
interrupt call. Cut him in as he switches