"Why doesn't he live with you?" Silvia asked, full of curiosity.

"He's at camp," Betty said. "Because he can't talk."

"What a shame," Silvia said, and she thought, At that camp in New Israel, no doubt. No wonder the girls aren't supposed to mention him; he's one of those anomalous children you hear of but never see. The thought made her sad. Unglimpsed tragedy in the Steiner household; she had never guessed. And it was in New Israel that Mr. Steiner had taken his life. Undoubtedly he had been visiting his son.

Then it has nothing to do with us, she decided as she returned the picture to its place in the bedroom. Mr. Steiner's decision was based on a personal matter. So she felt relieved.

Strange, she thought, how one has the immediate reaction of guilt and responsibility when one hears of a suicide. If only I hadn't done this, or had done that... I could have averted it. I'm at fault. And it was not so in this situation, not at all; she was a total outsider to the Steiners, sharing no part of their actual life, only imagining, in a fit of neurotic guilt, that she did so.

"Do you ever see your brother?" she asked Betty.

"I think I saw him last year," Betty said hesitantly. "He was playing tag, and there were a lot of other boys bigger than me."

Now, silently, the three older Steiner girls filed into the kitchen and stood by the table. At last the eldest burst out, "We changed our mind, we would like lunch."

"All right," Silvia said. "You can help me crack the eggs and peel them. Why don't you go and get David, and I'll feed him at the same time? Wouldn't that be fun, to all eat together?"

They nodded mutely.

Walking up the main street of New Israel, Arnie Kott saw a crowd ahead and cars pulled to a halt at the curb, and he paused momentarily before turning in the direction of Anne Esterhazy's Contemporary Arts Gift Shop. Something up, he said to himself. Robbery? Street brawl?

However, he did not have time to investigate. He continued on his way and arrived presently at the small modern shop which his ex-wife ran; hands in his trouser pockets, he sauntered in.

"Anybody home?" he called jovially.

No one there. She must have taken off to see the excitement, Arnie said to himself. Some business sense; didn't even lock up the store.

A moment later Anne came hurrying breathlessly back into the store. "Arnie," she said in surprise, seeing him. "Oh my God, do you know what happened? I was just talking to him, just talking, not more than an hour ago. And now he's dead." Tears filled her eyes. She collapsed onto a chair, found a Kleenex, and blew her nose. "It's just terrible," she said in a muffled voice. "And it wasn't an accident; he did it deliberately."

"Oh, so that's what's going on," Arnie said, wishing now that he had gone on and taken a look. "Who do you mean?"

"You wouldn't know him. He has a child at the camp; that's how I met him." She rubbed her eyes and sat for a time, while Arnie meandered about the store. "Well," she said at last, "what can I do for you? It's nice to see you."

"My goddamn encoder broke down," Arnie said. "You know how hard it is to get decent repair service. What could I do but come by? What do you say to having lunch with me? Lock up the store a little while."

"Of course," she said distractedly. "Just let me go wash my face. I feel as if it was me. I saw him, Arnie. The bus rolled right over him; they have such mass, they just can't stop. I would like some lunch--I want to get out of here." She hurried into the washroom--and closed the door.

Soon afterwards the two of them were walking up the sidewalk together.

"Why do people take their own lives?" Anne asked. "I keep thinking I could have prevented it. I sold him a flute for his boy. He still had the flute; I saw it with his suitcases on the curb--he never gave it to his son. Is that the reason, something to do with the flute? I debated between the flute and--"

"Cut it out," Arnie said. "It's not your fault. Listen, if a man is going to take his life nothing can stop him. And you can't cause a person to do it; it's in his bloodstream, it's his destiny. They work themselves up to doing it years in advance, and then it's just like a sudden inspiration; all of a sudden-- wham. They do it, see?" He wrapped his arm around her and patted her.

She nodded.

"Now, I mean, _we've_ got a kid there at Camp B-G, but it doesn't get us down," Arnie went on. "It's not the end of the world, right? We go on. Where do you want to eat? How's that place across the street, that Red Fox? Any good? I'd like some fried prawns, but hell, it's been almost a year since I saw them. This transportation problem has got to be licked or nobody is emigrating."

"Not the Red Fox," Anne said. "I loathe the man who runs it. Let's try that place on the corner; it's new, I haven't ever eaten in there. I hear it's supposed to be good."

As they sat at a table in the restaurant, waiting for their food to come, Arnie went on and developed his point. "One thing, when you hear about a suicide, you can be sure the guy knows this: he knows he's not a useful member of society. That's the real truth he's facing about himself, that's what does it, knowing you're not important to anybody. If there's one thing I'm sure of it's that. It's nature's way--the expendable are removed, by their own hand, too. So I don't lose any sleep when I hear of a suicide, and you'd be surprised how many so-called natural deaths here on Mars are actually suicides; I mean, this is a harsh environment. This place weeds out the fit from the unfit."

Anne Esterhazy nodded but did not seem cheered up.

"Now this guy--" Arnie continued.

"Steiner," Anne said.

"Steiner!" He stared at her. "Norbert Steiner, the blackmarket operator?" His voice rose.

"He sold health foods."

"That's the guy!" He was flabbergasted. "Oh, no, not Steiner." Good grief, he got all his goodies from Steiner; he was utterly dependent on the man.

The waiter appeared with their food.

"This is awful," Arnie said, "I mean, really awful. What am I going to do?" Every party he threw, every time he had a cozy two-person dinner arranged for himself and some girl, for instance Marty or especially of late Doreen... It was just too goddamn much in one day, this and his encoder, both together.

"Don't you think," Anne said, "it might have something to do with him being German? There's been so much sorrow in Germans since that drug plague, those children born with flippers. I've talked to some who've said openly they thought it was God's punishment on them for what was done during the Nazi period. And these weren't religious men, these were businessmen, one here on Mars, the other at Home."

"That damn stupid Steiner," Arnie said. "That cabbage head."

"Eat your food, Arnie." She began to unfold her napkin. "The soup looks good."

"I can't eat," he said. "I don't want this siop." He pushed his soup bowl away.

"You're still just like a big baby," Anne said. "Still having your tantrums." Her voice was soft and compassionate.

"Hell," he said, "sometimes I feel like I've got the weight of the entire planet on me, and you call me a baby!" He glared at her in baffled outrage.

"I didn't know that Norbert Steiner was involved in the black market," Anne said.

"Naturally you wouldn't, you and your lady-committees. What do you know about the world around you? That's why I'm here--I read that last ad you had in the _Times_ and it stank. You have to stop giving out that crap like you do; it repels intelligent people--it's just for other cranks like yourself."

"Please," Anne said. "Eat your food. Calm down."

"I'm going to assign a man from my Hall to look over your material before you distribute it. A professional."

"Are you?" she said mildly.

"We've got a real problem--we're not getting the skilled people to come over from Earth any more, the people we need. We're rotting--everybody knows that. We're falling apart."

Smiling, Anne said, "Somebody will take Mr. Steiner's place; there must be other black-market operators."

Arnie said, "You're deliberately misunderstanding me so as to make me look greedy and small, whereas actually I'm one of the most responsible members of the entire colonization attempt here on Mars, and that's why our marriage broke down, because of your belittling me out of jealousy and competitiveness. I don't know why I came over here today--it's impossible for you to work things out on a rational basis, you have to inflict personalities into everything."

"Did you know there's a bill before the UN to shut Camp B-G?" Anne said calmly.

"No," Arnie said.

"Does it distress you to think of B-G being closed?"

"Hell, we'll give Sam private individual care."

"What about the other children there?"

"You changed the subject," Arnie said. "Listen, Anne, you have to knuckle down to what you call masculine domination and let my people edit what you write. Honest to God, it does more harm than good--I hate to say this to your face but it's the truth. You're a worse friend than you would be an enemy, the way you go about things. You're a dabbler! Like most women. You're--irresponsible." He wheezed with wrath. Her face showed no reaction; what he said had no effect on her.

"Can you bring any pressure to bear to help keep B-G open?" she asked. "Maybe we can make a deal. I want to see it kept open."

"A _cause_," Arnie said ferociously.

"Yes."

"You want my blunt answer?"

She nodded, facing him coolly.

"I've been sorry ever since those Jews opened that camp."

Anne said, "Bless you, honest blunt Arnie Kott, mankind's friend."

"It tells the entire world we've got nuts here on Mars, that if you travel across space to get here you're apt to damage your sexual organs and give birth to a monster that would make those German flipper-people look like your next-door neighbor."