The Two-Centimeter Demon
by Issac Asimov
I met George at a literrary convention a good many years ago,
and was struck by the peculiar look of innocence and candor
upon his round middle-aged face. He was the kind of person, I
decided at once, to whom you would give your wallet to hold
while you went swimming.
He recognized me from my photographs on the back of my
books and greeted me gladly, telling me how much he liked my
stories and novels which, of course, gave me a good opinion of
his intelligence and taste.
We shook hands cordially and he said, "My name is George
Bitternut."
"Bitternut," I repeated, in order to fix it in my mind. "An
unusual name."
"Danish," he said, "and very aristocratic. I am descended
from Cnut, better known as Canute, a Danish king who conquered
England in the early eleventh century. An ancestor of mine
was his son, born on the wrong side of the blanket, of course."
"Of course," I muttered, though I didn't see why that was
something that should be taken for granted.
"He was named Cnut for his father," George went on,"and
when he was presented to the king, the royal Dane said, 'By my
halidom, is this my heir?'"
"'Not quite,' siad the courtier who was dandling little Cnut,
'for he is illegitimate, the mother being the launderwoman
whom you--'
"'Ah,' said the king, 'That's better.' And Bettercnut he was
known from that moment on. Just that single name. I have in-
herited that name in the direct male line except that the vicissi-
tudes of time have changed the name to Bitternut." And his blue
eyes looked at me with a kind of hypnotic ingenuousness that
forbade doubt.
I said, "Would you join me for lunch?" sweeping my hand in
the direction of the ornate restaurant that was clearly intended
only for the fat-walleted.
George said,"Don't you think that that bistro is a bit garish
and that the lunch counter on the other side might--"
"As my guest," I added.
And George pursed his lips and said,"Now that I look at the
bistro in a better light, I see that it has a rather homelike atmo-
sphere. Yes, it will do."
Over the main course, George said,"My ancestor Bettercnut
had a son, whom he named Sweyn. A good Dnish name."
"Yes, I know," I said,"King Cnut's father's name was Sweyn
Forkbeard.In modern times, the name is usually spelled Sven."
George frowned slightly sand said,"There is no need, old man,
to parade your knowledge of these things. I accept the fact that
you have the rudiments of an education."
I felt abashed."Sorry."
