“Why, Jubal, I don’t resent you—that’s silly.”

“I hope you don’t . . . but you certainly will if you don’t root out of your mind this delusion that you are indebted to me. The Japanese have five different ways to say ‘thank you’—and every one of them translates literally as resentment, in various degrees. Would that English had the same built-in honesty on this point! Instead, English is capable of defining sentiments that the human nervous system is quite incapable of experiencing. ‘Gratitude,’ for example.”

“Jubal, you’re a cynical old man. I do feel grateful to you and I shall go on feeling grateful.”

“And you are a sentimental young girl. That makes us a perfect complementary pair. Hmm . . . let’s run over to Atlantic City for a weekend of illicit debauchery, just us two.”

“Why, Jubal!”

“You see how deep your gratitude goes when I attempt to draw on it?”

“Oh. I’m ready. How soon do we leave?”

“Hummph! We should have left forty years ago. Shut up. The second point I want to make is that you are right; the boy does indeed have to learn human customs. He must be taught to take off his shoes in a mosque and to wear his hat in a synagogue and to cover his nakedness when taboo requires it, or our tribal shamans will burn him for deviationism. But, child, by the myriad deceptive aspects of Ahriman, don’t brainwash him in the process. Make sure he is cynical about each part of it.”

“Uh, I’m not sure how to go about that. Jubal—well, Mike just doesn’t seem to have any cynicism in him.”

“So? Yes. Well, I’ll take a hand in it. What’s keeping him? Shouldn’t he be dressed by now?”

“I’ll go see.”

“In a moment. Jill, I explained to you why I had not been anxious to accuse anyone of kidnapping Ben . . . and the reports I have had since serve to support the probability that that was a tactically correct decision. If Ben is being unlawfully detained (to put it at its sweetest), at least we have not crowded the opposition into getting rid of the evidence by getting rid of Ben. If he is alive he stands a chance of staying alive. But I took other steps the first night you were here. Do you know your Bible?”

“Uh, not very well.”

“It merits study, it contains very practical advice for most emergencies. ‘—every one that doeth evil hateth the light—’ John something or other, Jesus speaking to Nicodemus. I have been expecting at any moment an attempt to get Mike away from us, for it didn’t seem likely that you had managed to cover your tracks perfectly. And if they do try? Well, this is a lonely place and we haven’t any heavy artillery. But there is one weapon that might balk them. Light. The glaring spotlight of publicity. So I made some phone calls and arranged for any ruckus here to have publicity. Not just a little publicity that the administration might be able to hush up—but great gobs of publicity, worldwide and all at once. The details do not matter—where and how the cameras are mounted and what line-of-sight linkages have been rigged, I mean—but if a fight breaks out here, it will be picked up by three networks and, at the same time, a number of hold-for-release messages will be delivered to a wide spread of V.I.P.s—all of whom would like very much to catch our Honorable Secretary General with his pants down.”

Harshaw frowned. “The weakness in this defense is that I can’t maintain it indefinitely. Truthfully, when I set it up, my worry was to set up fast enough—I expected whatever popped, to pop inside of twenty-four hours. Now my worry is reversed and I think we are going to have to force some action quickly, while I can still keep a spotlight on us.”

“What sort of action, Jubal?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been fretting about it the past three days, to the point where I can’t enjoy my food. But you gave me a glimmering of a new approach when you told me that remarkable story about what happened when they tried to grab you two in Ben’s apartment.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Jubal. But I didn’t think anybody would believe me—and I must say that it makes me feel good that you do believe me.”

“I didn’t say I believed you.”

“What? But you—”

“I think you were telling the truth, Jill. But a dream is a true experience of a sort and so is a hypnotic delusion. But what happens in this room during the next half hour will be seen by a Fair Witness and by cameras which are—” He leaned forward and pressed a button. “—rolling right now. I don’t think Anne can be hypnotized when she’s on duty and I’ll lay long odds that cameras can’t be. We should be able to find out what kind of truth we’re dealing with—after which we should be able to decide how to go about forcing the powers-that-be to drop the other shoe . . . and maybe figure a way that will help Ben at the same time. Go get Mike.”