"Oh, he didn't buy it," said Madison. "It is quite a story. It's called the 'Eye of the Goddess'. Jettero is so brave and so commanding that it was presented to him by the Aga Khan when Jettero saved the life of his son."

"Oh!" said Hightee. "Tell me!"

"Well, Jettero made so little of it that he did not give me many details. He never brags."

"How like him," said Hightee.

"But it was headlines in all the newssheets. The son of the Aga Khan was on a tiger hunt-that is a very dangerous beast-and Jettero happened to be flying by and pulled the Aga Khan's son right out of the jaws of the tiger, barehanded."

"Oh! How dangerous!"

"Well, Jettero is nothing if not the most courageous fellow alive. But you know, he is so modest, I'll wager when you see him he won't even mention the exploit. Probably just laugh and say it never happened."

"That's my brother. Go on."

"He's so unwilling to take well-earned praise," continued Madison. "And when the Aga Khan presented him in gratitude with this family heirloom, do you know that Jettero actually blushed? I know. I was right there and saw him myself. He slid it into his pocket and he whispered to me, 'The only reason I'm not giving this back is because I think Hightee would like it.' "

"Oh, how sweet."

"But that's Jettero," said Madison. "He also said, when he made me promise to give it to you directly when I arrived on Voltar, 'Tell her I won it shooting dice and say it's a bauble she needn't even thank me for.' But I could never bring myself to lie to you. So I have told you the truth. Don't mention it to him that I did. He'd half kill me!"

"But good Heavens, I have to thank him."

"Oh, I thought of that. Wear it on your next Home-view appearance and, without saying how he got it, since that would embarrass him and reveal I had told you the truth, casually mention that the jewel is a gift from your brother Jettero and dedicate your next song to him and all his brother officers of the Fleet. And then sing some song about far places and loved ones at home and then say you don't know where your brother is and long to hear from him to thank him for the gift. And his brother officers, hearing it, wanting to help you thank him, would tell you where he is now. I'm sure the resulting fan mail would come in in a flood. Any of your fans, let alone his brother officers, would be eager to relieve your anxiety about where your brother is."

"Oh, it's a lovely idea. But you just saw him. Don't you know where he is?"

"Alas," said Madison, shaking his head sadly, "the two of us had a little farewell party for each other. We were going different ways. And it was only after his ship took off that I suddenly realized he had not told me where he was going. But it's not important that I know. It is only important that any anxiety you have be re­lieved. So I have written this little card for you that you can use for your lines and you can locate him and send your thanks to him that way."

She read the card and the lines. "Why, this is sort of sweet."

"And you could let me know as well," said Madison.

"I worry about him. He is too brave. And also, of course, I miss him."

"Well, I certainly do thank you," said Hightee, rising, "for bringing his gift."

Madison rose, too, but he said, "Oh, that isn't all that I have brought."

Hightee Heller looked at Madison with a bit of won­der. "You mean, after that beautiful gift you brought me from Jettero, you have something else? My, you are a man of surprises. But come, let us stroll a bit: I've been sitting all morning."

J. Walter Madison hastily grabbed his briefcase and followed her out of the summerhouse. They were instantly accompanied by songbirds.

The acres of the rooftop estate were artfully landscaped with curving paths and pools and waterfalls and trees so that every few yards, on any path one took, one was looking at a new presentation.

Sauntering along, hands thrust into her artist's smock pockets, Hightee looked sideways at him. "Now what is this something else?"

"Your new musical!" said Madison. "I've brought it!"

"That's unusual," said Hightee. "Normally I originate them and my own staff develops them."

Madison hadn't known that: on Earth artists didn't write them; they just sang and acted in them. But he plunged ahead. "Well, the order to do it comes from Lord Snor himself. He's a great admirer of yours, as they all are. When he heard one of the songs from it, he said, 'THAT'S HIGHTEE!'"

"He did? That's funny. He's as deaf as a rock."

"To everything but a bone-phone," said Madison hastily. "They put bones into the probe, I mean prones into the bobe...."

Hightee laughed. Then she said, "I'm sorry I got you all flustered. Maybe Lord Snor did wake up and listen to what goes on on Homeview. Stranger things have happened."

Madison was floundering in his briefcase. The impact of Hightee Heller was a bit much for him. But he was a veteran and he got himself under control. "Look, I better play you one of the songs from it. Where can I find a piano?"

"A what?"

"A keyboard. I'm not any pro but I tinkle away."

Hightee was walking away from him. He quickly fol­lowed. Then he noticed that some of the vine-covered walls they had been passing were actually the sides of structures. She opened something that looked like a garden gate and Madison, coming up behind her, found himself looking into what must be a musical-equipment repair shop.

A middle-aged man was standing over a bench which was littered with electronic components and shells of what might be instruments. He looked up, saw Hightee, smiled and laid down a tool.

"Jarp," said Hightee, "have you ever heard of an instrument called a piano?"

"No," said Jarp. "What's it look like?"

"Teeth," said Madison. "It has lots of keys like ivory teeth."

Jarp turned to Hightee. "He's talking about some primitive mouth instrument."

"No, no," said Madison. "It's quite sophisticated.

You play it by hitting the keys with both hands in chords. You mean you don't have a keyboard? Oh, dear!"

"What scale is it?" said Jarp.

"Eight-note major, thirteen-note chromatic."

"Do you know the notes?"

When Madison nodded, Jarp dug around and found the remains of a chorder-beat that operated on finger proximity. Madison, after a couple of sour tries, managed to get it to hum the right numbers of vibrations. Jarp turned on a recorder and Madison, moving his finger closer and closer and holding it each time he had the right note, ran the chromatic scale.

"All those notes on one instrument?" said Hightee.

"Yes," said Madison. "Eighty-eight total."

"I know," said Jarp. "He's talking about a chorder-bar." He turned to Madison. "When you put a finger down on a long bar, it sounds a note. When you put it down softly you get low volume; when you put it down hard you get high volume. But you were saying some­thing about a keyboard or keys. What's it look like?"

Madison found some paper, but he was making such a bad job of it, Jarp took it away from him and with a long sheet of paper, using Madison's hand span for an octave, shortly had a piano keyboard drawn. Jarp looked at it and scratched his head. "Never saw anything like it. It must work mechanically: you strike a key, you say, and it takes a hammer and hits a string. How clumsy! I guess it must be a blood brother to one of those stick harps they once had in the back country of Mistin. Used to jump around naked beating them before they did their spring mating."

"Well, see what you can do," said Hightee, "and bring it to the practice room when you finish." Madison followed her out. They were shortly on a path that wound round a waterfall, the birds flying escort. "Now what's the story of this musical?" said Hightee. "The book. I hope it isn't about spring mating."