«I don't know why you're sorry,» Jubal said gruffly. «The High Minister for Peace would have declared you Top Secret ten minutes ago.»

«Beg pardon?»

«Never mind.» Jubal returned to his desk, picked up a heavy ash tray. «Jill, don't aim at my face. Okay, Mike, stand in the hallway.»

«Jubal … my brother …please not!»

«What's the trouble? I want one more demonstration — and this time I won't take my eyes off it.»

«Jubal — »

«Yes, Jill?»

«I grok what is bothering Mike.»

«Well, tell me.»

«We did an experiment where I was about to hurt you with that box. But we are his water brothers — so it upset Mike that I even tried. I think there is something very unMartian about such a situation.»

Harshaw frowned. «Maybe it should be investigated by the Committee on unMartian Activities.»

«I'm not joking, Jubal.»

«Nor I. All right, Jill, I'll re-rig it.» Harshaw handed the ash tray to Mike. «Feel how heavy it is, son. See those sharp corners.»

Smith examined it gingerly. Harshaw went on, «I'm going to throw it up — and let it hit me in the head as it comes down.»

Mike stared. «My brother … you will now discorporate?»

«Eh? No, no! But it will hurt me — unless you stop it. Here we go!» Harshaw tossed it straight up within inches of the high ceiling.

The ash tray topped its trajectory, stopped.

Harshaw looked at it, feeling stuck in one frame of a motion picture. He croaked, «Anne. What do you see?»

She answered in a flat voice, «That ash tray is five inches from the ceiling. I do not see anything holding it up.» She added, «Jubal, I think that's what I'm seeing… but if the cameras don't show the same thing, I'm going to tear up my license. »

«Um. Jill?»

«It floats…»

Jubal went to his desk and sat down without taking his eyes off the ash tray. «Mike,» he said, «why didn't it disappear?»

«But, Jubal,» Mike said apologetically, «you said to stop it; you did not say to make it go away. When I made the box go away, you wanted it to be again. Have I done wrongly?»

«Oh. No, you have done exactly right. I keep forgetting that you take things literally.» Harshaw recalled insults common in his early years — and reminded himself never to use such to Mike — if he told the boy to drop dead or get lost, Harshaw felt certain that the literal meaning would ensue.

I am glad,» Smith answered soberly. »I am sorry I could not make the box be again. I am sorry twice that I wasted food. Then a necessity was. Or so I grokked.»

«Eh? What food?»

Jill said hastily, «He's talking about those men, Jubal. Berquist and the man with him.»

«Oh, yes.» Harshaw reflected that he retained unMartian notions of food. «Mike, don't worry about wasting that “food.” I doubt if a meat inspector would have passed them. In fact,» he added, recalling the Federation convention about «long pig,» «they would have been condemned as unfit to eat. Besides, it was a necessity. You grokked the fullness and acted rightly.»

«I am much comforted,» Mike answered with relief in his voice. «Only an Old One can always be sure of right action at a cusp … and I have much learning to learn and growing to grow before I may join the Old Ones. Jubal? May I move it? I am tiring.»

«You want to make it go away? Go ahead.»

«But I cannot.»

«Eh? Why not?»

«Your head is no longer under it. I do not grok wrongness in its being, where it is.»

«Oh. All right. Move it.» Harshaw continued to watch, expecting it to float to the spot now over his head and thus regain a wrongness. Instead the ash tray slanted downward until it was close above his desk, hovered, then came in to a landing.

«Thank you, Jubal,» said Smith.

«Eh? Thank you, son!» Jubal picked up the ash tray. It was as commonplace as ever. «Yes, thank you. For the most amazing experience I've had since the hired girl took me up into the attic.» He looked up. «Anne, you trained at Rhine.»

«Yes.»

«Have you seen levitation before?»

She hesitated. «I've seen what was called telekinesis with dice — but I'm no mathematician and cannot testify that it was telekinesis.»

«Hell's bells, you wouldn't testify that the sun had risen if the day was cloudy.»

«How could I? Somebody might be supplying artificial light above the cloud layer. One of my classmates could apparently levitate objects about the mass of a paper clip — but he had to be three drinks drunk. I was not able to examine it closely enough to testify … because I had been drinking, too.»

«You've never seen anything like this?»

«No.»

«Mmm … I'm through with you professionally. If you want to stay, hang up your robe and drag up a chair.»

«Thanks, I will. But, in view of your lecture about mosques and synagogues, I'll change in my room.»

«Suit yourself. Wake up Duke and tell him I want the cameras serviced.»

«Yes, Boss. Don't let anything happen until I get back.» Anne headed for the door.

«No promises. Mike, sit at my desk. Now, can you pick up that ash tray? Show me.»

«Yes, Jubal.» Smith reached out and took it in his hand.

«No, no!»

«I did wrongly?»

«No, it was my mistake. I want to know if you can lift it without touching it?»

«Yes, Jubal.»

«Well? Are you tired?»

«No, Jubal.»

«Then what's the matter? Does it have to have a “wrongness”?»

«No, Jubal.»

«Jubal,» Jill interrupted, «you haven't told him to — you just asked if he could.»

«Oh.» Jubal looked sheepish. «Mike, will you please, without touching it, lift that ash tray a foot above the desk?»

«Yes, Jubal.» The ash tray raised, floated above the desk. «Will you measure, Jubal?» Mike said anxiously. «If I did wrongly, I will move it.»

«That's fine! Can you hold it? If you get tired, tell me.»

«I will tell.»

«Can you lift something else, too? Say this pencil? If you can, do it.»

«Yes, Jubal.» The pencil ranged itself by the ash tray.

By request, Mike added other articles to the floating objects. Anne returned, pulled up a chair and silently watched. Duke came in carrying a step ladder, glanced, looked a second time, said nothing and set up the ladder. At last Mike said uncertainly, «I am not sure, Jubal. I — » He seemed to search for a word. «I am idiot in these things.»

«Don't wear yourself out.»

«I can think one more. I hope.» A paper weight stirred, lifted — and the dozen-odd floating objects all fell down. Mike seemed about to weep. «Jubal, I am utmostly sorry.»

Harshaw patted his shoulder. «You should be proud. Son, what you just did is — » Jubal searched for a comparison within Mike's experience. «What you did is harder than tying shoe-strings, more wonderful than doing a one-and-a-half gainer perfectly. You did it, uh, “brightly, brightly, and with beauty.” You grok?»

Mike looked surprised. «I should not feel shame?»

«You should feel proud.»

«Yes, Jubal,» he answered contentedly. «I feel proud.»

«Good. Mike, I cannot lift even one ash tray without touching it.»

Smith looked startled. «You cannot?»

«No. Can you teach me?»

«Yes, Jubal. You — » Smith stopped, looked embarrassed. «I again have not words. I will read and read and read, until I find words. Then I will teach my brother.»

«Don't set your heart on it.»

«Beg pardon?»

«Mike, don't be disappointed if you do not find the words. They may not be in the English language.»

Smith considered this. «Then I will teach my brother the language of my nest.»

«You may have arrived fifty years late.»

«I have acted wrongly?»

«Not at all. You might start by teaching Jill your language.»

«It hurts my throat,» objected Jill.

«Try gargling aspirin.» Jubal looked at her. «That's a feeble excuse, Nurse. You're hired as research assistant for Martian linguistics … which includes extra duties as may be necessary. Anne, put her on the payroll — and be sure it gets in the tax records.»