“But it did happen fast,” Ruth went on. “Sam was a professor of Oriental languages at the University here—the city U., that is. Sam started coming to the Temple because it was a way, the only way, to learn the Martian language. Strictly professional motivation, he wasn’t interested in it as a church. And I went along to keep an eye on him . . . I had heard rumors and I was a jealous wife, even more possessive than the average.

“So we worked up to the Third Circle, Sam learning the language rapidly, of course, and myself grimly hanging on and studying hard because I didn’t want to let him out of my sight. Then boom! the miracle happened. We suddenly began to think in it, just a little . . . and Michael felt it and had us stay after service, a Third Circle service, one night . . . and Michael and Gillian gave us water. Afterwards, I knew that I was all the things I had despised in other women and I knew that I should despise my husband for letting me do it and hate him for what he had done himself. All this in English, with the worst parts in Hebrew. So I wept all day and moaned and made myself a stinking nuisance to Sam . . . and couldn’t wait to get back to share more water and grow closer again that night.

“After that things were steadily easier but not easy, as we were pushed through all the inner circles just as rapidly as we could take it; Michael knew that we needed help and wanted to get us into the safety and peace of the Nest. So when it came time for our Sharing Water, I was still unable to discipline myself without constant help. I knew that I wanted to be received into the Nest—once you start, there’s no turning back—but I wasn’t sure I could merge myself with seven other people. I was scared silly; on the way over I almost begged Sam to turn around and go home.”

She stopped talking and looked up, unsmiling but beatific, a plump angel with a big stirring spoon in one hand. “Then we walked into the Innermost Temple and a spotlight hit me and our robes were whisked away . . . and they were all in the pool and calling out to us in Martian to come, come and share the water of life—and I stumbled into that pool and submerged and I haven’t come up since!

“Nor ever want to. Don’t fret, Ben, you’ll learn the language and acquire the discipline and you’ll have loving help from all of us every step of the way. You stop worrying and jump in that pool tonight; I’ll have my arms out to catch you. All of us will have our arms out, welcoming you home. Now take this plate in to Duke and tell him I said he was a pig . . . but a charming one. And take this one in for yourself—oh, of course you can eat that much!—give me a kiss and run along; Ruthie has work to do.”

Ben delivered the kiss and the message and the plate, then found that he did have some appetite left . . . but nevertheless did not concentrate on food as he found Jill stretched out, apparently asleep, on one of the wide, soft couches. He sat down opposite her, enjoying the sweet sight of her and thinking that Dawn and Jill were even more alike than he had realized the night before.

He looked up from a bite and saw that her eyes were open and she was smiling at him. “Thou art God, darling—and that smells good.”

“And you look good. But I didn’t mean to wake you.” He got up and sat by her, put a bite in her mouth. “My own cooking, with Ruth’s help.”

“I know. And good, too. Duke told me to stay out of the kitchen because Ruthie was giving you a good-for-your-soul lecture. You didn’t wake me; I was just lazing until you came out. I haven’t been asleep all night.”

“Not at all?”

“Not a wink. But I’m not tired, I feel grand. Just hungry. That’s a hint.”

So he fed her. She let him do so, never stirring, not using her own hands. “But did you get any sleep?” she asked presently.

“Uh, some.”

“Enough? No, you got enough. But how much sleep did Dawn get? As much as two hours?”

“Oh, more than that, I’m certain.”

“Then she’s all right. Two hours of sleep does us as much good as eight used to. I knew what a sweet night you were going to have—both of you—but I was a teeny bit worried that she might not rest.”

“Well, it was a wonderful night,” Ben admitted, “although I was, uh, surprised at the way you shoved her at me.”

“Shocked, you mean. I know you, Ben, maybe better than you know yourself. You arrived here yesterday with jealousy sticking out in lumps. I think it’s gone now. Yes?”

He looked back at her. “I think so.”

“That’s good. I had a wonderful and joyous night, too—made free from any worry by knowing you were in good hands. The best hands—better than mine.”