«She's been doing her share in the kitchen. Shall I date it back?»

Jubal shrugged. «Don't bother me with details.»

«But, Jubal,» Jill protested, «I don't think I can learn Martian !»

«You can try .»

«But — »

«What was that about “gratitude”? Do you take the job?»

Jill bit her lip. «I'll take it. Yes … Boss.»

Smith timidly touched her hand. «Jill… I will teach.»

Jill patted his. «Thanks, Mike.» She looked at Harshaw. «I'm going to learn it just to spite you!»

He grinned at her. «That motive I grok — you'll learn it. Mike, what else can you do that we can't?»

Smith looked puzzled. «I do not know.»

«How could he,» protested Jill, «when he doesn't know what we can and can't do?»

«Mmm … yes. Anne, change that title to “assistant for Martian linguistics, culture, and techniques.” Jill, in learning their language you are bound to stumble onto things that are different, really different — and when you do, tell me. And, Mike, if you notice anything which you can do but we don't, tell me.»

«I will tell, Jubal. What things will be these?»

«I don't know. Things like you just did … and being able to stay on the bottom of the pool longer than we can. Hmm … Duke!»

«Boss, I've got both hands full of film.»

«You can talk, can't you? I noticed the pool is murky.»

«I'm going to add precipitant tonight and vacuum it in the morning.»

«How's the count?»

«It's okay, the water is safe enough to serve at the table. It just looks messy.»

«Let it be. I'll let you know when I want it cleaned.»

«Hell, Boss, nobody likes to swim in dishwater.»

«Anybody too fussy can stay dry. Quit jawing, Duke. Films ready?»

«Five minutes.»

«Good. Mike, do you know what a gun is?»

«A gun,» Smith answered carefully, «is a piece of ordnance for throwing projectiles by force of some explosive, as gun-powder, consisting of a tube or barrel closed at one end, where the — »

«Okay, okay. Do you grok it?»

«I am not sure.»

«Have you ever seen a gun?»

«I do not know.»

«Why, certainly you have,» Jill interrupted. «Mike, think back to that time we talked about, in the room with the grass floor — but don't get upset! One man hit me.»

«Yes.»

«The other pointed something at me.»

«He pointed a bad thing at you.»

«That was a gun.»

«I had thinked that the word for that bad thing might be “gun.” Webster's New International Dictionary of the English Language, Third Edition, published in — »

«That's fine, son,» Harshaw said hastily. «Now listen. If someone points a gun at Jill, what will you do?»

Smith paused longer than usual. «You will not be angry if I waste food?»

«No. Under those circumstances no one would be angry at you. But I want to know something else. Could you make the gun go away, without making the man go away?»

Smith considered it. «Save the food?»

«Uh, that isn't what I mean. Could you cause the gun to go away without hurting the man?»

«Jubal, he would not hurt. I would make the gun go away, the man I would just stop. He would feel no pain. He would simply discorporate. The food would not damage.»

Harshaw sighed. «Yes, I'm sure that's the way it would be. But could you cause to go away just the gun? Not “stop” the man, not kill him, just let him go on living?»

Smith considered it. «That would be easier than doing both at once. But, Jubal, if I left him corporate, he might still hurt Jill. Or so I grok it.»

Harshaw stopped to remind himself that this baby innocent was neither babyish nor innocent — was in fact sophisticated in a culture which he was beginning to realize was far in advance of human culture in mysterious ways … and that these naive remarks came from a superman — or what would do for a «superman.» He answered Smith, choosing words carefully as he had in mind a dangerous experiment.

«Mike … if you reach a — “cusp” — where you must do something to protect Jill, you do it.»

«Yes, Jubal. I will.»

«Don't worry about wasting food. Don't worry about anything else. Protect Jill.»

«Always I will protect Jill.»

«Good. But suppose a man pointed a gun — or simply had it in his hand. Suppose you did not want to kill him … but needed to make the gun go away. Could you do it?»

Mike paused briefly. «I think I grok it. A gun is a wrong thing. But it might be needful for the man to remain corporate.» He thought. «I can do it.»

«Good. Mike, I am going to show you a gun. A gun is a wrong thing.»

«A gun is a wrong thing. I will make it go away.»

«Don't make it go away as soon as you see it.»

«Not?»

«Not. I will lift the gun and start to point it at you. Before I can get it pointed at you, make it go away. But don't stop me, don't hurt me, don't kill me, don't do anything to me. Don't waste me as food, either.»

«Oh, I never would,» Mike said earnestly. «When you discorporate, my brother Jubal, I hope to be allowed to eat of you myself, praising and cherishing you with every bite … until I grok you in fullness.»

Harshaw controlled a reflex and answered gravely, «Thank you, Mike.»

«It is I who must thank you, my brother — and if it should be that I am selected before you, I hope that you will find me worthy of grokking. Sharing me with Jill. You would share me with Jill? Please?»

Harshaw glanced at Jill, saw that she kept her face serene — reflected that she probably was a rock-steady scrubbed nurse. «I will share you with Jill,» he said solemnly. «But, Mike, none of us will be food any time soon. I am going to show you this gun — and you wait until I say … and then be very careful, because I have many things to do before I am ready to discorporate.»

«I will be careful, my brother.»

«All right.» Harshaw opened a drawer. «Look in here, Mike. See the gun? I'm going to pick it up. But don't do anything until I tell you.» Harshaw reached for the gun, an elderly police special, took it out. «Get ready, Mike. Now!» Harshaw did his best to aim the weapon at Smith.

His hand was empty.

Jubal found that he was shaking, so he stopped. «Perfect!» he said. «You got it before I had it aimed.»

«I am happy.»

«So am I. Duke, did that get in the camera?»

«Yup.»

«Good.» Harshaw sighed. «That's all, kids. Run along.»

Anne said, «Boss? You'll tell me what the films show?»

«Want to stay and see them?»

«Oh, no! I couldn't, not the parts I Witnessed. But I want to know — later — whether or not they show that I've slipped my clutches.»

«Okay.»

WHEN THEY had gone, Harshaw started to give orders to Duke — then said grumpily, «What are you looking sour about?»

«Boss, when do we get rid of that ghoul?»

«“Ghoul”? Why, you provincial lout!»

«Okay, so I'm from Kansas. Never was any cannibalism in Kansas. I'm eating in the kitchen until he leaves.»

Harshaw said icily, «So? Anne can have your check ready in five minutes. It ought not to take more than ten to pack your comic books and your other shirt.»

Duke had been setting up a projector. He stopped. «Oh, I didn't mean I was quitting.»

«It means that to me, son.»

«But — what the hell? I've eaten in the kitchen lots of times.»

«Other circumstances. Nobody under my roof refuses to eat at my table because he won't eat with others who eat there. I am an almost extinct breed, an old-fashioned gentleman — which means I can be a cast-iron son of bitch when it suits me. It suits me right now … which is to say that no ignorant, superstitious, prejudiced bumpkin is permitted to tell me who is fit to eat at my table. I dine with publicans and sinners, that is my business. I do not break bread with Pharisees.»

Duke said slowly, «I ought to pop you one-and I would, if you were my age.»