“Anybody?” No one claimed a prize; Douglas had kept it simple and straightforward, merely implementing the agreement reached earlier. “Okay,” said Jubal, “everybody is to witness every copy, after Mike signs it—especially you, Skipper, and Sven and Stinky. Get your seal, Miriam. Hell, let Bradley in now and have him witness, too—then give the poor guy a drink. Duke, call the desk and tell ’em to send up the bill; we’re checking out. Then call Greyhound and tell ’em we want our go-buggy. Sven, Skipper, Stinky—we’re getting out of here the way Lot left Sodom . . . why don’t you three come up in the country with us, take off your shoes, and relax? Plenty of beds, home cooking, and no worries.”

The two married men asked for, and received, rain checks; Dr. Mahmoud accepted. The signing took rather long, mostly because Mike enjoyed signing his name, drawing each letter with great care and artistic satisfaction. The salvageable remains of the picnic (mostly unopened bottles) had been sent up and loaded by the time all copies were signed and sealed, and the hotel bill had arrived.

Jubal glanced at the fat total and did not bother to add it. Instead he wrote on it: “Approved for payment—J. Harshaw for V. M. Smith,” and handed it to Bradley.

“This is your boss’s worry now,” he told Bradley.

Bradley blinked. “Sir?”

“Oh, just to keep it ‘via channels.’ Mr. Douglas will doubtless turn it over to the Chief of Protocol. Isn’t that the usual procedure? I’m rather green about these things.”

Bradley accepted the bill. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Yes, that’s right. LaRue will voucher it—I’ll give it to him.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bradley. Thanks for everything!”





Part Three

HIS ECCENTRIC EDUCATION

22

In one limb of a spiral galaxy, close to a star known as “Sol” to some of its dependents, another star of the same type underwent catastrophic readjustment and became nova. Its glory would be seen on Mars in another three-replenished (729) years, or 1370 Terran years. The Old Ones noted the coming event as being useful, shortly, for instruction of the young, while never ceasing the exciting and crucial discussion of esthetic problems concerning the new epic woven around the death of the Fifth Planet.

The departure of the spaceship Champion for its home planet was noted without comment and a watch was kept on the strange nestling sent back in it, but nothing more, since it would be some time yet before it would be fruitful to grok the outcome. The twenty-three humans left behind on Mars coped, successfully in most ways, with an environment lethal to naked humans but less difficult, on the whole, than that in the Free State of Antarctica. One of them discorporated through an undiagnosed illness sometimes called “heartbreak” and at other times “homesickness.” The Old Ones cherished the wounded spirit and sent it back where it belonged for further healing; aside from that the Martians left the Terrans alone.

On Earth the exploding neighbor star was not noticed at all, human astronomers still being limited by speed of light. The Man from Mars, having been briefly back in the news, had dropped out of the news again. The minority leader in the Federation Senate called for “a bold, new approach” to the twin problems of population and malnutrition in southeast Asia, starting with increased emergency grants-in-aid to families with more than five children. Mrs. Percy B. S. Souchek sued the supervisors of Los Angeles City-County over the death of her pet poodle Piddle which had taken place during a five-day period of stationary inversion layer. Cynthia Duchess announced that she was going to have the Perfect Baby by a scientifically selected anonymous donor and an equally perfect host-mother just as soon as a battery of experts completed calculating the exact instant for conception to insure that the wonder child would be equally a genius in music, art, and statesmanship—and that she would (with the aid of hormonal treatments) nurse her child herself. She gave out a statement to the press on the psychological benefits of natural feeding and permitted, or insisted, that the press take pictures of her to prove that she was physically endowed for this happy duty—a fact that her usual publicity pictures had never really left undecided.

Supreme Bishop Digby denounced her as the Harlot of Babylon and forbade any Fosterite to accept the commission, either as donor or host-mother. Alice Douglas was quoted as saying: “While I do not know Miss Duchess personally, one cannot help but admire her. Her brave example should be an inspiration to mothers everywhere.”

By accident, Jubal Harshaw saw one of the pictures and the accompanying story in a magazine some visitor had left in his house. He chuckled over it and posted it on the bulletin board in the kitchen . . . then noted (as he had expected) that it did not stay up long, which made him chuckle again.