Grandpaw turned to Mum and said softly, "Take it, Mimi," and slumped back into gentle apathy. But for a minute he had been strong, handsome, virile, dynamic man of days of my opting... and I thought with sudden tears how lucky I had been!

Then didn't know whether I felt lucky or not. Only excuse I could see for a Family talk-talk was fact that I was due to be shipped Earthside next day, labeled as grain. Could Mum be thinking of trying to set Family against it? Nobody had to abide by results of a talk-talk. But one always did. That was strength of our marriage: When came down to issues, we stood together.

Mimi was saying, "Does anyone have anything that needs to be discussed? Speak up, dears."

Greg said, "I have."

"We'll listen to Greg."

Greg is a good speaker. Can stand up in front of a congregation and speak with confidence about matters I don't feel confident about even when alone. But that night he seemed anything but sure of himself. "Well, uh, we've always tried to keep this marriage in balance, some old, some young, a regular alternation, well spaced, just as it was handed down to us. But we've varied sometimes--for good reason." He looked at Ludmilla. "And adjusted it later." He looked again at far end of table, at Frank and Ali, on each side of Ludmilla.

"Over years, as you can see from records, average age of husbands has been about forty, wives about thirty-five--and that age spread was just what our marriage started with, nearly a hundred years gone by, for Tillie was fifteen when she opted Black Jack and he had just turned twenty. Right now I find that average age of husbands is almost exactly forty, while average--"

Mum said firmly, "Never mind arithmetic, Greg dear. Simply state it."

I was trying to think who Greg could possibly mean. True, I had been much away during past year, and if did get home, was often after everybody was asleep. But he was clearly talking about marriage and nobody ever proposes another wedding in our marriage without first giving everybody a long careful chance to look prospect over. You just didn't do it any other way!

So I'm stupid. Greg stuttered and said, "I propose Wyoming Knott!"

I said I was stupid. I understand machinery and machinery understands me. But didn't claim to know anything about people. When I get to be senior husband, if live that long, am going to do exactly what Grandpaw does with Mum: Let Sidris run it. Just same-- Well, look, Wyoh joined Greg's church. I like Greg, love Greg. And admire him. But you could never feed theology of his church through a computer and get anything but null. Wyoh surely knew this, since she encountered it in adult years--truthfully, I had suspected that Wyoh's conversion was proof that she would do anything for our Cause.

But Wyoh had recruited Greg even earlier. And had made most of trips out to new site, easier for her to get away than me or Prof. Oh, well. Was taken by surprise. Should not have been.

Mimi said, "Greg, do you have reason to think that Wyoming would accept an opting from us?"

"Yes."

"Very well. We all know Wyoming; I'm sure we've formed our opinions of her. I see no reason to discuss it... unless someone has something to say? Speak up."

Was no surprise to Mum. But wouldn't be. Nor to anyone else, either, since Mum never let a talk-talk take place until she was sure of outcome.

But wondered why Mum was sure of my opinion, so certain that she had not felt me out ahead of time? And sat there in a soggy quandary, knowing I should speak up, knowing I knew something terribly pertinent which nobody else knew or matter would never have gone this far. Something that didn't matter to me but would matter to Mum and all our women.

Sat there, miserable coward, and said nothing, Mum said, "Very well. Let's call the roll. Ludmilla?"

"Me? Why, I love Wyoh, everybody knows that. Sure!"

"Lenore dear?"

"Well, I may try to talk her into going back to being a brownie again; I think we set each other off. But that's her only fault, being blonder than I am. Da!"

"Sidris?"

"Thumbs up. Wyoh is our kind of people."

"Anna?"

"I've something to say before I express my opinion, Mimi.'

"I don't think it's necessary, dear."

"Nevertheless I'm going to haul it out in the open, just as Tillie always did according to our traditions. In this marriage every wife has carried her load, given children to the family. It may come as a surprise to some of you to learn that Wyoh has had eight children--"

Certainly surprised Ali; his head jerked and jaw dropped. I stared at plate. Oh, Wyoh, Wyoh! How could I let this happen? Was going to have to speak up.

And realized Anna was still speaking: "--so now she can have children of her own; the operation was successful. But she worries about possibility of another defective baby, unlikely as that is according to the head of the clinic in Hong Kong. So we'll just have to love her enough to make her quit fretting."

"We will love her," Mum said serenely. "We do love her. Anna, are you ready to express opinion?"

"Hardly necessary, is it? I went to Hong Kong with her, held her hand while her tubes were restored. I opt Wyoh."

"In this family," Mum went on, "we have always felt that our husbands should be allowed a veto. Odd of us perhaps, hut Tillie started it and it has always worked well. Well, Grandpaw?"

"Eh? What were you saying, my dear?"

"We are opting Wyoming, Gospodin Grandpaw. Do you give consent?"

"What? Why, of course, of course! Very nice little girl. Say, whatever became of that pretty little Afro, name something like that? She get mad at us?"

"Greg?"

"I proposed it."

"Manuel? Do you forbid this?"

"Me? Why, you know me, Mum."

"I do. I sometimes wonder if you know you. Hans?"

"What would happen if I said No?"

"You'd lose some teeth, that's what," Lenore said promptly. "Hans votes Yes."

"Stop it, darlings," Mum said with soft reproof. "Opting is a serious matter. Hans, speak up."

"Da. Yes. Ja. Oui. Si. High time we had a pretty blonde in this-- Ouch!"

"Stop it, Lenore. Frank?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Ali dear? Is it unanimous?"

Lad blushed bright pink and couldn't talk. Nodded vigorously.

Instead of appointing a husband and a wife to seek out selectee and propose opting for us, Mum sent Ludmilla and Anna to fetch Wyoh at once--and turned out she was only as far away as Bon Ton. Nor was that only irregularity; instead of setting a date and arranging a wedding party, our children were called in, and twenty minutes later Greg had his Book open and we did the taking vows--and I finally got it through my confused head that was being done with breakneck speed because of my date to break my neck next day.

Not that it could matter save as symbol of my family's love for me, since a bride spent her first night with her senior husband, and second night and third I was going to spend out in space. But did matter anyhow and when women started to cry during ceremony, I found self dripping tears right with them.

Then I went to bed, alone in workshop, once Wyoh had kissed us and left on Grandpaw's arm. Was terribly tired and last two days had been hard. Thought about exercises and decided was too late to matter; thought about calling Mike and asking him for news from Terra. Went to bed.

Don't know how long had been asleep when realized was no longer asleep and somebody was in room. "Manuel?" came soft whisper in dark.

"Huh? Wyoh, you aren't supposed to be here, dear."

"I am indeed supposed to be here, my husband. Mum knows I'm here, so does Greg. And Grandpaw went right to sleep."

"Oh. What time is?"

"About four hundred. Please, dear, may I come to bed?"

"What? Oh, certainly." Something I should remember. Oh, yes. "Mike!"

"Yes, Man?" he answered.