«Dorcas must have been off her feed. No, you were under sedative that night — doesn't count. Some other night?»

«Your question is irrelevant, immaterial, and beneath my notice.»

«That's an answer. Please note that the added bedrooms are as far from mine as possible. Soundproofing is never perfect.»

«Jubal, wouldn't your name be higher up that list than mine?»

«What?»

«Not to mention Larry and Duke. Jubal, everybody assumes that you are keeping the fanciest harem since the Sultan. Don't misunderstand me — they envy you. But they think you're a lecherous old goat.»

Jubal drummed on his chair arm. «Ben, I do not mind being treated flippantly by my juniors. But in this matter I insist that my years be treated with respect.»

«Sorry,» Ben said stiffly. «I thought if it was all right for you to kick my sex life around, you would not mind my being equally frank.»

«No, no, Ben! — you misunderstand. I require the girls to treat me with respect — on this subject.»

«Oh — »

«I am, as you pointed out, old — quite old. Privately, I am happy to say that I am still lecherous. But lechery does not command me. I prefer dignity to indulging in pastimes which, believe me, I have enjoyed in full measure and do not need to repeat. Ben, a man my age, who looks like a slum clearance in its grimmest stage, can bed a young girl — and possibly big her and thanks for the compliment; it might not be amiss — through three means: money … or the equivalent in terms of wills and community property and such … and — pause for question: Can you imagine any of these four bedding with a man for those reasons?»

«No. Not any of them.»

«Thank you, sir. I associate only with ladies; I'm pleased that you know it. The third incentive is a most female one. A sweet young girl sometimes takes an old wreck to bed because she is fond of him, sorry for him, and wishes to make him happy. Would that apply?»

«Uh … Jubal, it might. With any of them.»

«I think so, too. But this reason which any of these ladies might find sufficient is not sufficient for me. I have my dignity, sir — so please take my name off the list.»

Caxton grinned. «Okay — you stiff-necked old coot. I hope that when I am your age I won't be so hard to tempt.»

Jubal smiled. «Better to be tempted and resist, than be disappointed. Now about Duke and Larry: I don't know nor care. Whenever anyone comes here to live, I make it plain that this is neither a sweat shop nor a whore house, but a home … and, as such, it combines anarchy and tyranny without a trace of democracy, as in any well-run family, i.e., they are on their own except where I give orders, which orders are not subject to debate. My tyranny never extends to love life. The kids have always kept their private matters reasonably private. At least — »Jubal smiled ruefully. « — until the Martian influence got out of hand. Perhaps Duke and Larry have been dragging the gals behind every bush. But there have been no screams.»

«Then you think it's Mike.»

Jubal scowled. «Yes. That's all right — I told you the girls were smugly happy … and I'm not broke plus the fact that I could bleed Mike for any amount. Their babies won't lack. But, Ben, I'm troubled about Mike himself.»

«So am I, Jubal.»

«And about Jill.»

«Uh … Jubal, Jill isn't the problem. It's Mike.»

«Damn it, why can't the boy come home and quit this obscene pulpit pounding?»

«Mmm … Jubal, that's not quite what he's doing.» Ben added, «I've just come from there.»

«Huh?Why didn't you say so?»

Ben sighed. «First you talked art, then you sang the blues, then you wanted to gossip.»

«Uh … you have the floor.»

«Coming back from the Capetown conference, I visited them. What I saw worried the hell out of me — so I stopped by my office, then came here. Jubal, couldn't you rig it with Douglas to close down this operation?»

Jubal shook his head. «What Mike does with his life is his business.»

«You would if you had seen what I saw.»

«Not I! But in the second place I can't. Nor can Douglas.»

«Jubal, Mike would accept any decision you made about his money. He probably wouldn't even understand it.»

«Ah, but he would! Ben, recently Mike made his will and sent it to me to criticize. It was one of the shrewdest documents I've ever seen. He recognized that he had more wealth than his heirs could use — so he used part of his money to guard the rest. It is booby-trapped not only against heirs-claimants of both his legal and natural parents — he knows he's a bastard though I don't know how he found out — but also of every member of the Envoy's company. He provided a way to settle out of court with any heir having a prima facie claim — and rigged it so that they would almost have to overthrow the government to break his will. The will showed that he knew every security and asset. I couldn't find anything to criticize.» ( — including, Jubal thought, his provision for you, my brother!) «Don't tell me that I could rig his money!»

Ben looked morose. «I wish you could.»

«Idon't. But it wouldn't help if we could. Mike hasn't drawn a dollar from his account for almost a year. Douglas called me about it — Mike hadn't answered his letters.»

«No withdrawals? Jubal, he's spending a lot.»

«Maybe the church racket pays well.»

«That's the odd part. It's not really a church.»

«What is it?»

«Uh, primarily a language school.»

«Repeat?»

«To teach the Martian language.»

«Well, then, I wish he wouldn't call it a church.»

«Maybe it is a church, within the legal definition.»

«Look, Ben, a skating rink is a church — as long as some sect claims that skating is essential to worship — or even that skating served a desirable function. If you can sing to the glory of God, you can skate to the same end. There are temples in Malaya which are nothing — to an outsider — but boarding houses for snakes … but the same High Court rules them to be “churches” as protects our own sects.»

«Well, Mike raises snakes, too. Jubal, isn't anything ruled out?»

«Mmm … a moot point. A church usually can't charge for fortune telling or calling up spirits of the dead — but it can accept offerings and let the “offerings” be fees in fact. Human sacrifice is illegal — but it is done in several spots around the globe … probably right here in this former land of the free. The way to do anything that would otherwise be suppressed is to do it in the inner sanctum and keep the gentiles out. Why, Ben? Is Mike doing something that might get him jailed?»

«Uh, probably not.»

«Well, if he's careful — The Fosterites have shown how to get by with almost anything. Much more than Joseph Smith was lynched for.»

«Mike has lifted a lot from the Fosterites. That's part of what worries me.»

«But what does worry you?»

«Uh, Jubal, this is a “water brother” matter.»

«Shall I carry poison in a hollow tooth?»

«Uh, the inner circle are supposed to be able to discorporate voluntarily — no poison needed.»

«I never got that far, Ben. But I know ways to put up the only final defense. Let's have it.»

«Jubal, I said Mike raises snakes. I meant figuratively and literally — the setup is a snake pit. Unhealthy. Mike's Temple is a big place. An auditorium for public meetings, smaller ones for invitational meetings, many smaller rooms — and living quarters. Jill sent me a radiogram telling me where to go, so I was dropped at the private entrance on the back street. Quarters are above the auditorium, as private as you can be and still live in a city.»

Jubal nodded. «Be your acts legal or illegal, nosy neighbors are noxious.»

«In this case a very good idea. Outer doors let me in; I suppose I was scanned, although I didn't spot the scanner. Through two more automatic doors — then up a bounce tube. Jubal, it wasn't an ordinary one. Not controlled by the passenger, but by someone out of sight. Didn't feel like the usual bounce tube, either.»