“Huh! I’m pretty weak, myself!”

She chuckled gently at his joke. “How can it tempt you when it’s already yours? You’re part of the Nest.”

“Uh . . . I suppose so. But don’t you worry about burglars?” He was trying to guess how much money one of those bowls contained. Most of the notes seemed to be larger than singles—hell, he could see one with three zeroes on it still on the floor, where Patty had missed it in her tidying up.

“One did get in, just last week.”

“So? How much did he steal?”

“Oh, he didn’t. Michael sent him away.”

“Called the cops?”

“Oh, no, no! Michael would never turn anybody over to the cops. I grok that would be a wrongness. Michael just—” She shrugged. “—made him go away. Then Duke fixed the hole in the skylight in the garden room—did I show you that? It’s lovely . . . a grass floor. But I remember that you have a grass floor, Jill told me. That’s where Michael first saw one. Is it grass all over? Every room?”

“Just my living room.”

“If I ever get to Washington, can I walk on it? Lie down on it? Please?”

“Of course, Patty. Uh . . . it’s yours.”

“I know, dear. But it’s not in the Nest, and Michael has taught us that it is good to ask, even when we know the answer is yes. I’ll lie on it and feel the grass against me and be filled with Happiness to be in my brother’s ‘little nest.’”

“You’ll be most welcome, Patty.” Ben reminded himself sharply that he didn’t give a hoot in hell what his neighbors thought—but he hoped she would leave her snakes behind. “When will you be there?”

“I don’t know. When waiting is filled. Maybe Michael knows.”

“Well, warn me if you can, so I’ll be in town. If not, Jill always knows the code for my door—I change it occasionally. Patty, doesn’t anybody keep track of this money?”

“What for, Ben?”

“Uh, people usually do.”

“Well, we don’t. Just help yourself as you go out—then put back any you have left when you come home, if you remember to. Michael told me to keep the grouch bag filled. If it runs low I get some more from him.”

Ben dropped the matter, stonkered by the simplicity of the arrangement. He already had some idea, from Mike and second-hand from Jill and Jubal, of the moneyless communism of the Martian culture; he could see that Mike had set up an enclave of it here—and these bowls of cash marked the transition point whereby one passed from Martian to Terran economy. He wondered if Patty knew that it was a fake . . . bolstered up by Mike’s enormous fortune. He decided not to ask.

“Patty, how many are there in the Nest?” He felt a mild worry that he was acquiring too many sharing brothers without his consent, then shoved back the thought as unworthy—after all, why would any of them want to sponge on him? Other than, possibly to lie on his grass rug—he didn’t have any pots of gold just inside his door.

“Let me see . . . there are almost twenty now, counting novitiate brothers who don’t really think in Martian yet and aren’t ordained.”

“Are you ordained, Patty?”

“Oh, yes. But mostly I teach. Beginners’ classes in Martian, and I help novitiate brothers and such. And Dawn and I—Dawn and Jill are each High Priestess—Dawn and I are pretty well-known Fosterites, especially Dawn, so we work together to show other Fosterites that the Church of All Worlds doesn’t conflict with the Faith, any more than being a Baptist keeps a man from joining the Masons.” She showed Ben Foster’s kiss, explained what it meant, and showed him also its miraculous companion placed by Mike.

“They all know what Foster’s kiss means and how hard it is to win it . . . and by then they’ve seen some of Mike’s miracles and they are just about ripe to buckle down and sweat to climb into a higher circle.”

“It’s an effort?”

“Of course it is, Ben—for them. In your case and mine, and Jill’s, and a few others—you know them all—Michael called us straight into brotherhood. But to others Michael first teaches a discipline—not a faith but a way to realize faith in works. And that means they’ve got to start by learning Martian. That’s not easy; I’m not perfect in it myself. But it is much Happiness to work and learn. You asked about the size of the Nest—let me see, Duke and Jill and Michael and myself . . . two Fosterites, Dawn and myself . . . one circumcised Jew and his wife and four children—”

“Kids in the Nest?”