Enough of you have asked why my 1972 SIII 88 is named Dora.  Here is 
the reference, quoted in full, that made the name click.   --Ben 


	The Passage is from _Time Enough for Love:  the Lives of Lazarus Long_ 
by Robert Anson Heinlein, copyright 1973, pp. 87-93.

Characters in scene:
Lazarus Long, aka "the Senior", aka Woodrow Wilson Smith: born in 1912 AD, 
	oldest living human, age 2200+ Earth years, who is an independent 
	explorer and a rogue, a liar and a hero, stubborn and sneaky, and a 
        whole host of other things.
Ira: Chairman Pro Tem of the Howard Families (chief administrator--benevolent
	dictator--for the planet Secundus which has a population of billions
        who live for centuries, a position that he's held for the last 100 
        years) 
Minerva: a massive, sentiment computer that runs the planet for Ira
Dora:   Lazarus' sentiment space yacht.

The Narrative is as told by Ira.  The time is about 3200 AD on the planet
Secundus.

----begin passage------------------------------
  "Oh. Minerva, can you duplicate yourself inside a ship?  The Senior's yacht, 
specifically.  Perhaps you can get her characteristics and specifications from 
skyport records.  Do you need her registration number?"
  "I don't need her number, Ira.  Sky yacht 'Dora,' I have all the pertinent 
data to answer.  I can.  Am I instructed to do so?"
  "Yes!" I told her, with a feeling of sudden relief.
  "New overriding program activated and running, Ira!  Thank you, Lazarus!"
  "Wups! Slow down, Minerva--Dora is my ship.  I left her asleep on purpose.
Have you wakened her?"
  "I did so, Lazarus.  By self-program under new overriding program.  But I can
tell her to go back to sleep now; I have all the data I need at the moment."
  "You try telling Dora to go back to sleep and she'll tell you to buzz off. At
least.  At the very least.  Minerva, my dear, you goofed.  You have no
authority to wake my ship."
  "I am most sorry to disagree with the Senior, sir, but I *do* have authority
to take all appropriate actions to carry out any program given to me by Mr.
Chairman Pro Tem."
  Lazarus frowned.  "You mixed her up, Ira; now you straighten her out.  I can't
do anything with her."
  I sighed.  Minerva is rarely difficult--but when she is, she is even more
pigheaded than flesh-and-blood.  "Minerva--"
  "Waiting orders, Ira."
  "I am Chairman Pro Tem.  You know what that means.  The Senior is senior even
to me.  You will not touch anything of his without his permission.  That applies
to his yacht and to this suite and to anything else of his.  You will carry
out any program he gives you.  If it conflicts with a program I have given
you and you cannot resolve the conflict, you will consult me at once, waking
me even if I am asleep, interrupting whatever I may be doing.  But you will 
*not* disobey him.  This instruction super-overrides all other programs.
Acknowledge."
  "Acknowledged and running," she answered meekly.  "I'm sorry Ira."
  My fault, Little Nag, not yours.  I should not have given you a new 
controlling program without noting the Senior's prerogatives."
  "No harm done kids," Lazarus said. "I hope.  Minerva, a word of advice, dear.
You've never been a passenger in a ship."
  "No sir."
  "You'll find it different from anything you've ever experienced.  Here you
give the orders, in Ira's name.  But passengers never give orders.  *Never*.
Remember it."  Lazarus added to me, "Dora is a nice little ship, Ira, helpful
and friendly.  She can find her way through multiple space with just a hint,
the roughtest approximation--and still have your meals on time.  But she
needs to feel appreciated.  Pet her and tell her she's a good girl, and she'll
wriggle like a puppy.  But ignore her and she'll spill soup on you just to
get your attention."
  "I'll be careful," I agreed.
  "And *you* be careful, Minerva--because if you are going to need Dora's
goodwill much more than she will need yours.  You may know far more than
she does--I'm sure you do.  But you grew up to be a chief bureaucrat of a 
planet while she grew up to be a ship...so what you know doesn't count--once
you're aboard."
  "I can learn," Minerva said plaintively.  "I can self-program to learn
astrogration and shiphandling at once from the planetary library.  I'm very
bright."
  Lazarus sighed again.  "Ira, do you know the ancient Chinese ideogram for
'trouble'?"
  I admitted that I did not.
  "Don't bother to guess. 'It's Two Women Under One Roof.'  We are going to have
problems.  Or you will.  Minerva, you are *not* bright.  You are stupid--when
it comes to handling another woman.  If you want to learn multiple-spaces
astrogation--fine.  But not from a library.  Persuade Dora to teach you.  But
never forget that she is mistress in her own ship and don't try to show her
how bright you are.  Bear in mind instead that she likes attention."
  "I will try, sir."  Minerva answered him, with humility she rarely shows
to me.  "Dora wants to get your attention right now."
  "Oh-oh!  What sort of mood is she in?"
  "Not a good mood, Lazarus. I have not admitted that I know where you are, as 
I am under standing instruction not to discuss you affairs unnecessarily.  But
I did accept a message for you without guaranteeing that I could deliver it."
  "Just right.  Ira, the papers with my will include a program to wash me out
of Dora's memories without touching her skills.  But the trouble you started
by grabbing me out of that flophouse has spread.  She's awake with her memories
intact, and she's probably scared.  The message, Minerva."
  "It's several thousand words, Lazarus, but the semantic content is short. 
Will you have that first?"
  "Okay, the summary meaning."
  "Dora wants to know where you are and when you are coming to see her.  The
rest could be described as onomatopoesy, semantically null but highly 
emotional--that is to say cursing, pejoratives, and improbably insults in
several languages--"
  "Oh, boy."
  "-including one language I do not know but from the context and delivery I
assume tentatively that it is more of the same, but stronger."
  Lazarus covered his face with his hand. "Dora is cussing in Arabic again. 
Ira, this is worse that I thought."
  "Sir, shall I replicate just the sounds not in my vocabularies? Or will you 
have the complete message?"
  "No, no, no!  Minerva, do you cuss?"
  "I have never had reason to, Lazarus.  But I was much impressed by Dora's
command of the art."
  "Don't blame Dora; she was subjected to a bad influence when she was very
young. Me."
  "May I have permission to file her message in my permanent? So I may cuss
if needed?"
  "You do *not* have permission.  If Ira wants you to learn to cuss, he'll
teach you himself.  Minerva, can you arrange a telephone hookup from my ship
to this suite?  Ira, I might as well cope with this now; it won't get better."
  "Lazarus, I can arrange a standard telephone hookup if that is what you
want.  But Dora could speak to you at once via the duo in your suite that I am
now using."
  "Oh. Fine!"
  "Shall I supply her with holographic signal, too? Or is sound enough?"
  "Sound is enough.  More than enough, probably.  Will you be able to hear, 
too?"
  "If you wish, Lazarus.  But you can have privacy if that is your wish."
  "Sick around; I may need a referee.  Put her on."

  "Boss?" It was the voice of a timid little girl.  It made me think of skinned
knees, and no breasts of yet, and big, tragic eyes.
  Lazarus answered, "Right here, baby."
  "*Boss*! God damn your lousy soul to hell!--what do you *mean* by running
off and not letting me know where you are?  Of all the filthy, flea-bitten--"
  "*Pipe down*!"
  The timid-little-girl voice returned, "Aye, aye Skipper," it said uncertainly.
  "Where I go and when I go and how long I stay are none of your business.  
Your business is to pilot and to keep house and that's all."
  I heard a sniffle, exactly like a small child sniffing back tears. "Yes, 
Boss."
  "You were supposed to be asleep. I put you to bed myself."
  "Somebody woke me.  A strange lady."
  "That was a mistake.  But you used bad language to her."
  "Well...I was *scared*.  I really was, Boss, I woke up and thought you had
come home...and you weren't anywhere around, not *anywhere*.  Uh...she told on
me?"
  "She conveyed your message to me. Fortunately she did not understand most of 
your words.  But *I* did.  What have I told you about being polite to 
strangers?"
  "I'm sorry, Boss."
  "Sorry doesn't get the cows milked.  Now adorable Dora, you listen to me. I'm
not going to punish you; you were wakened by mistake and you were scared and
lonely, so we'll forget it.  But you shouldn't talk that way, not to strangers.
This lady--She's a friend of mine, and she wants to be your friend, too.  She's
a computer--"
  "She *is*?"
  "Just as you are, dear."
  "The she couldn't hurt me, could she?  I thought she was inside me, snooping
around.  So I yelled for you."
  "She not only couldn't, she would never want to hurt you."  Lazarus raised
his voice slightly.  "Minerva, come in dear, and tell Dora who you are."
  My helpmeet's voice, calm and soothing, said. "I'm a computer, Dora, and
called 'Minerva' by my friends--and I hope you'll call me that.  I'm terribly
sorry that I woke you. I'd be scared too, if someone woke me like that."  
(Minerva never has been "asleep" in the hundred-odd years she's been activated.
She rests each part of herself on some schedule I don't need to know--but she
herself is always awake.  Or awake so instantly whenever I speak to her as not 
to matter.)
  The ship said, "How do you do, Minerva.  I'm sorry I talked the way I did."
  "I don't remember it, dear, if you did.  I heard your skipper say that I 
transmitted a message from you to him.  But it's erased, now that it's been 
transmitted.  Private message, I suppose."
  (Was Minerva truth-saying?  Until she came under Lazarus' influence I would 
have said that she did not know how to lie.  Now I'm not sure.)
  "I'm glad you erased it, Minerva.  I'm sorry I talked to you that way.  Boss 
is sore at me about it."
  Lazarus interrupted, "Now, now, Adorable--stop it.  We always let water over 
the bridge lie where Jesus flang it you know that.  Will you be a good girl and 
go back to sleep?"
  "Do I have to?"
  "No.  You don't even have to place yourself on slow time.  But I can't come 
to see you--or even talk to you--earlier that late tomorrow afternoon.  I'm 
busy today and will be househunting tomorrow.  You can stay awake and bore 
yourself silly any way you choose.  But if you whomp up some fake emergency to 
get my attention, I'll spank you."
  "But, Boss, you know I *never* do that."
  "I know you *do* that, little imp.  But if you bother me for anything less 
than somebody trying to break into you or you catching on fire, you'll regret it.
If I can figure out that you've set yourself on fire, you'll catch it twice as 
hard.  Look, dear, why don't you at least sleep whenever I am asleep?  Minerva, 
can you let Dora know when I go to sleep?  And when I wake up?""
  "Certainly, Lazarus."
  "But that doesn't mean you can bother me when I'm awake, Dora, other than for 
real emergencies.  No surprise drills--this is not shipboard routine; were're 
dirtside and I'm busy.  Uh...Minerva, how's you time-sharing capacity?  Do you 
play chess?"
  I put in, "Minerva has ample share-time capacity."
  But before I could add that she was Secundus Champion Unlimied Open Handicap 
(with a handicap of Q, Q's B, and K's R) Minerva said, "perhaps Dora will teach 
me to play chess."
  (Well, Minerva, had certainly learned Lazarus' rule for telling the truth 
selectively.  I made note that I must have a serious private talk with her.)
  "I'd be glad to Miss Minerva."
  Lazarus relaxed. "Fine.  You gals get acquainted.  So long till tomorrow, 
'Dorable. Now beat it."
  Minerva notified us that the yacht was no longer patched in, and Lazarus 
relaxed.  Minerva dropped back to her record-keeping role, and kept quiet.  
Lazarus said apologetically, "Don't be put off by her childish manners, Ira; 
you won't find a sharper pilot, or a neater ship's housekeeper, between here 
and Galactic Center.  But I had reasons for not letting her grow up in other 
ways, reasons that won't apply when you take over as her master.  She's a good 
girl, she really is.  It's just that she's like a cat that jumps into your lap
the instant you sit down."
  "I found her charming."
  "She's a spoiled brat.  But it's not her fault; I am practically all the 
company she's ever had.  I get bored by a computer that just grinds out 
numbers, docile as a slide rule.  No company on a long trip..."
----end passage------------------------------