“Give you away? How?”

“Any way at all.”

“Hmm . . . that covers a lot of ground, but I’ll go along.”

“All right. Pour me another one first.” He did so, Jill went on. “I know they don’t have the Man from Mars hopped up—because I talked with him.”

Caxton gave a slow whistle. “I knew it. When I got up this morning I said to myself, ‘Go see Jill. She’s the ace up my sleeve.’ Honey lamb, have another drink. Have six. Here, take the pitcher.”

“Not so fast, thanks.”

“Whatever you like. May I rub your poor tired feet? Lady, you are about to be interviewed. Your public waits with quivering impatience. Now let’s begin at the beginning. How—”

“No, Ben! You promised—remember? You quote me just one little quote and I’ll lose my job.”

“Mmm . . . probably. How about ‘from a usually reliable source’?”

“I’d be scared.”

“Well? Are you going to tell Uncle Ben? Or are you going to let him die of frustration and then eat that steak by yourself?”

“Oh, I’ll talk—now that I’ve talked this much. But you can’t use it.” Ben kept quiet and did not press his luck; Jill described how she had out-flanked the guards.

He interrupted. “Say! Could you do that again?”

“Huh? I suppose so, but I won’t. It’s risky.”

“Well, could you slip me in that way? Of course you could! Look, I’ll dress up like an electrician—greasy coveralls, union     badge, tool kit. You just slip me the pass key and—”

“No!”

“Huh? Look, baby girl, be reasonable. I’ll bet you four to one that half the hospital staffers around him are ringers, stuck in there by one news service or another. This is the greatest human-interest story since Colombo conned Isabella into hocking her jewels. The only thing that worries me is that I may find another phony electrician—”

“The only thing that worries me is me,” Jill interrupted. “To you it’s just a story; to me it’s my career. They’d take away my cap, my pin, and ride me out of town on a rail. I’d be finished as a nurse.”

“Mmm . . . there’s that.”

“There sure is that.”

“Lady, you are about to be offered a bribe.”

“How big a bribe? It’ll take quite a chunk to keep me in style the rest of my life in Rio.”

“Well . . . the story is worth money, of course, but you can’t expect me to outbid Associated Press, or Reuters. How about a hundred?”

“What do you think I am?”

“We settled that, we’re dickering over the price. A hundred and fifty?”

“Pour me another drink and look up the phone number of Associated Press for me, that’s a lamb.”

“It’s Capitol 10–9000. Jill, will you marry me? That’s as high as I can go.”

She looked up at him, startled. “What did you say?”

“Will you marry me? Then, when they ride you out of town on a rail, I’ll be waiting at the city line and take you away from your sordid existence. You’ll come back here and cool your toes in my grass—our grass—and forget your ignominy. But you’ve durn well got to sneak me into that hospital room first.”

“Ben, you almost sound serious. If I phone for a Fair Witness, will you repeat the offer?”

Caxton sighed. “Jill, you’re a hard woman. Send for a Witness.”

She stood up. “Ben,” she said softly, “I won’t hold you to it.” She rumpled his hair and kissed him. “But don’t ever joke about marriage to a spinster.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

“I wonder. Wipe off the lipstick and I’ll tell you everything I know, then we’ll consider how you can use it without getting me ridden on that rail. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough.”

She gave him a detailed account. “I’m sure he wasn’t drugged. I’m equally sure that he was rational—although why I’m sure I don’t know, for he talked in the oddest fashion and asked the darnedest questions. But I’m sure. He isn’t psychotic.”

“It would be odder still if he hadn’t talked in an odd fashion.”

“Huh?”

“Use your head, Jill. We don’t know much about Mars but we do know that Mars is very unlike Earth and that Martians, whatever they are, certainly are not human. Suppose you were suddenly popped into a tribe so far back in the jungle that they had never laid eyes on a white woman. Would you know all the sophisticated small talk that comes from a lifetime in a culture? Or would your conversation sound odd? That’s a very mild analogy; the truth in this case is at least forty million miles stranger.”