Candy gave me another glass of champagne and I raised it as a toast to myself. I was swallowing the bubbly brew and had half a glass to go when I heard a voice.

"Now Teenie wants some more pictures."

When I was through coughing and wheezing and trying to get the champagne out of my lungs, I hoarsed, "Where did you put the duelling pistols? I am going to kill that kid!"

Adora said, "Look at that poor child! You have frightened her half to death!" And then she put her face close to my ear and said in a deadly voice, "You're going to do what you're told, bigamist."

I said weakly, "But there's nothing else to take pictures of! The two girls are satisfied."

"I need demonstration shots," said Teenie. "How can I do my homework without accurate and detailed examples? If I have nothing to study, I won't make it at all!"

"You hear?" said Adora to me. "Just tell us what you want, Teenie."

"Well, ice skaters have to have pictures of themselves to perfect their technique. You said so yourself, Pinchy. I don't have those pictures yet."

"Of course," said Adora indulgently.

"Could you operate the camera?" said Teenie, parking her bubble gum on the head of an Aphrodite statuette.

"Of course," said Adora. And she accepted it. "Now what do you want exactly?"

Instantly, Teenie's dress flew through the air.

I was still sitting on the sofa.

She came over and stood in front of me. She looked down critically at me and shook her head. "This will never dp," she said.

Teenie turned to Adora.

"What we need is some music," said Teenie. "I have just bought the latest Neo Punk Rock record by the Naughty Boys. It's right here in my purse. Do you mind if I play it?"

She would have put the 45 straight onto the stereo but I took it from her hand. Anything to do with Teenie was pretty deadly stuff. One had to be cautious. The label said:

NEO PUNK ROCK

MORAL

For Grade-school Kiddies

International Psychological

Association Approved

Educational Ditty

The Naughty Boys:

Biffer, Poker, Slider and Wowie.

Oh, well, Hells, it was just some childish gibberish and if the psychologists approved it, it must be quite all right. "Go ahead," I said.

She expertly set the stereo on 45 rpm and fixed it so the record would repeat over and over. She turned the volume high and around it went. The needle came down.

Six crashing tom-tom beats followed by three thundering tympani strokes. POW, POW, POW, POW, POW, POW! BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! And then it repeated. And then it kept right on repeating! Forceful, compelling, savage, primitive!

All the people in the room began to jerk in rhythm to those drums. Teenie was wide-eyed, beating time with her hips and heels.

Then the whine and moan of electronic instruments.

Then a chorale like a tribal chant:

Freddie was a jumper!

Jump, jump, jump!

Freddie was a jumper!

Pump, pump, pump!

Freddie jumped his teacher!

Pump, pump, pump! Freddie jumped his sister!

Pump, pump, pump! Freddie jumped his brother!

Pump, pump, pump! Freddie jumped his papa!

Pump, pump, pump! Freddie jumped his mama!

Pump, pump, pump! Freddie jumped a ROBOT!

Oh, my God! Poor, poor Freddie, Hasn't got a rod!

And then in a perfectly normal voice at the end it said: So that's the moral, little kiddies. Don't never (bleep) robots!

The women in the room had almost had (bleeps)

from the rhythm. I thought I had read the label wrong. I leaped up and snatched it from the turntable before it could repeat. Yes, it was approved by the International Psychological Association and its title was "Moral."

Teenie snatched it out of my hands. She put it back on the turntable. It started up again, POW, POW, POW, POW, POW, POW! BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!

She got into the rhythm of it. "Ain't it dreamy?" she said with a beatific smile that made her oversize mouth look like a hungry cavern. She looked to see if Adora was ready. Then she turned to me, "Come on, cowboy, let's get into the first pose!"

She reached out and yanked me to my feet so fast my robe flew out behind me.

She bent back and looked at me with an astonished expression on her face. She snapped her fingernails.

FLASH!

Adora had the picture.

Teenie made a grab for me.

I hastily tried to bat her hands away and disengage.

FLASH!

It was strange: stamped on my retina was a look of awe upon her face.

But right now, there was anything but awe in Teenie. She was stamping her heels to the music. I was reassured because I thought it was distracting her.

But no!

She suddenly grabbed the lapels of my robe, making it fly wide.

I tried to seize her wrists to get her off me. But she had the flat of her hands against my chest and was pushing ME away.

FLASH!

A look of horror was stamped on my retina. But it wasn't there now.

The music was going and pounding. Her body writhed against mine, bruising me. The marijuana and music were spinning in my head.

Teenie suddenly dropped to her knees.

I hastily grabbed at her shoulders to make her stand up., _

FLASH!

She then stood up but was I surprised!

She slapped me.

Right in the face!

A deadly insult! An invitation to a duel!

Oh, that was too much to take from this teen-age kid!

I wanted to kill her!

She tried to escape me but the back of her knees hit the bed.

FLASH!

The look of fear that was momentarily branded on my retina was not put on-of that I was very sure.

Killing her would be a pleasure!

She whirled around and tried to escape by climbing on the bed.

I seized her ponytail.

She backed up! Against me!

FLASH!

I made my hand flat to give her behind a powerful swat. "I'll teach you to insult me!" I snarled.

But Teenie was laughing!

Teenie turned over on her back and began to hold her sides with mirth.

Adora was laughing.

Candy was laughing.

Mike and Mildred were laughing.

I could not for the life of me figure out what they were laughing at.

I stamped off to my room and slammed the door.

I went to bed and glowered into the dark.

Blasted teen-age monstrosity!

To HELLS with her education!

I could still hear them guffawing in the other room.

Oh, I said, as I gnawed my pillow, when Lombar was finally through with this planet and needed it no more, what a pleasure it would be to blow it up. Especially with Teenie in the middle of the cataclysm. It couldn't be too soon!

Exhausted by my evening's work and rage, assisted by the marijuana and champagne, I fell into a restless nap, only to be awakened by a nightmare in which, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get the fuse lit that would explode Earth.

Trying to look at my watch told me two things: I had a terrible pain in my skull and it was 8:00 P. M.

There were no sounds coming from the front room. They had obviously gone out to dinner and a show as they often did.

I took a cold shower, trying to get rid of the headache. It didn't work. But it suddenly brought me alert enough to realize I was neglecting the real reason I had to endure all this travail: Heller!

Cursing the man for now even sicking teen-agers on

me, I towelled off quickly and uncovered the viewers. Krak's was still blank, Crobe's was no interest. But Heller's was another thing. It was dim but unmistakable: he was still at sea.

I blew out a sigh of relief. I was in time to watch him being blown to bits as he tried to land at Atlantic City. And what a joy THAT would be after all the trouble he had caused me!