«I'd be scared.»

«Well? Are you going to let me die of frustration and eat that steak by yourself?»

«Oh, I'll talk. But you can't use it.» Ben kept quiet; Jill described how she had out-flanked the guards.

He interrupted. «Say! Could you do that again?»

«Huh? I suppose so, but I won't. It's risky.»

«Well, could you slip me in that way? Look, I'll dress like an electrician — coveralls, union badge, tool kit. You slip me the key and — »

«No!»

«Huh? Look, baby girl, be reasonable. This is the greatest human-interest story since Colombo conned Isabella into hocking her jewels. The only thing that worries me is that I may find another electrician — »

«The only thing that worries me is me,» Jill interrupted. «To you it's a story; to me it's my career. They'd take away my cap, my pin, and ride me out of town on a rail.»

«Mmm … there's that.»

«There sure is that.»

«Lady, you are about to be offered a bribe.»

«How big? It'll take quite a chunk to keep me in style the rest of my life in Rio.»

«Well… you can't expect me to outbid Associated Press, or Reuters. How about a hundred?»

«What do you think I am?»

«We settled that, we're dickering over the price. A hundred and fifty?»

«Look up the number of Associated Press, that's a lamb.»

«Capitol 10-9000. Jill, will you marry me? That's as high as I can go.»

She looked startled. «What did you say?»

«Will you marry me? Then, when they ride you out of town on a rail, I'll be waiting at the city line and take you away from your sordid existence. You'll come back here and cool your toes in my grass — ourgrass — and forget your ignominy. But you've durn well got to sneak me into that room first.»

«Ben, you almost sound serious. If I phone for a Fair Witness, will you repeat that?»

Caxton sighed. «Send for a Witness.»

She stood up. «Ben,» she said softly, «I won't hold you to it.» She kissed him. «Don't joke about marriage to a spinster.»

«I wasn't joking.»

«I wonder. Wipe off the lipstick and I'll tell everything I know, then we'll consider how you can use it without getting me ridden on that rail. Fair enough?»

«Fair enough.»

She gave him a detailed account. «I'm sure he wasn't drugged. I'm equally sure that he was rational — although he talked in the oddest fashion and asked the darnedest questions.»

«It would be odder still if he hadn't talked oddly.»

«Huh?»

«Jill, we don't know much about Mars but we do know that Martians are not human. Suppose you were popped into a tribe so far back in the jungle that they had never seen shoes. Would you know the small talk that comes from a lifetime in a culture? That's a mild analogy; the truth is at least forty million miles stranger.»

Jill nodded. «I figured that out. that's why I discounted his odd remarks. I'm not dumb.»

«No, you're real bright, for a female.»

«Would you like this martini in your hair?»

«I apologize. Women are smarter than men; that is proved by our whole setup. Gimme, I'll fill it.»

She accepted peace offerings and went on, «Ben, that order about not letting him see women, it's silly. He's no sex fiend.»

«No doubt they don't want to hand him too many shocks at once.»

«He wasn't shocked. He was just … interested. It wasn't like having a man look at me.»

«If you had granted that request for a viewing, you might have had your hands full.»

«I don't think so. I suppose they've told him about male and female; he just wanted to see how women are different.»

«“Vive la difference!”» Caxton answered enthusiastically.

«Don't be vulgar.»

«Me? I was being reverent. I was giving thanks that I was born human and not Martian.»

«Be serious.»

«I was never more serious.»

«Then be quiet. He wouldn't have given me any trouble. You didn't see his face — I did.»

«What about his face?»

Jill looked puzzled. «Ben, have you ever seen an angel?»

«You, cherub. Otherwise not.»

«Well, neither have I — but that is how he looked. He had old, wise eyes in a completely placid face, a face of unearthly innocence.» She shivered.

«“Unearthly” is the word,» Ben answered slowly. «I'd like to see him.»

«Ben, why are they keeping him shut up? He wouldn't hurt a fly.»

Caxton fitted his fingertips together. «Well, they want to protect him. He grew up in Mars gravity; he's probably weak as a cat.»

«But muscular weakness isn't dangerous; myasthenia gravis is much worse and we manage all right with that.»

«They want to keep him from catching things, too. He's like those experimental animals at Notre Dame; he's never been exposed.»

«Sure, sure — no antibodies. But from what I hear around the mess hall, Doctor Nelson — the surgeon in the Champion — took care of that on the trip back. Mutual transfusions until he had replaced about half his blood tissue.»

«Can I use that, Jill? That's news.»

«Just don't quote me. They gave him shots for everything but housemaid's knee, too. But, Ben, to protect him from infection doesn't take armed guards.»

«Mmmm…. Jill, I've picked up a few tidbits you may not know. I can't use them because I've got to protect my sources. But I'll tell you — just-don't talk.»

«I won't.»

«It's a long story. Want a refill?»

«No, let's start the steak. Where's the button?»

«Right here.»

«Well, push it.»

«Me? You offered to cook dinner.»

«Ben Caxton, I will lie here and starve before I will get up to push a button six inches from your finger.»

«As you wish.» He pressed the button. «But don't forget who cooked dinner. Now about Valentine Michael Smith. There is grave doubt as to his right to the name “Smith.”»

«Huh?»

«Honey, your pal is the first interplanetary bastard of record.»

«The hell you say!»

«Please be ladylike. You remember anything about the Envoy? Four married couples. Two couples were Captain and Mrs. Brant, Doctor and Mrs. Smith. Your friend with the face of an angel is the son of Mrs. Smith by Captain Brant.»

«How do they know? And who cares? It's pretty snivelin' to dig up scandal after all this time. They're dead — let 'em alone!»

«As to how they know, there probably never were eight people more thoroughly measured and typed. Blood typing, Rh factor, hair and eye color, all those genetic things — you know more about them than I do. It is certain that Mary Jane Lyle Smith was his mother and Michael Brant his father. It gives Smith a fine heredity; his father had an I.Q. of 163, his mother 170, and both were tops in their fields.

«As to who cares,» Ben went on, «a lot of people care — and more will, once this shapes up. Ever heard of the Lyle Drive?»

«Of course. That's what the Champion used.»

«And every space ship, these days. Who invented it?»

«I don't — Wait a minute! You mean she — »

«Hand the lady a cigar! Dr. Mary Jane Lyle Smith. She had it worked out before she left even though development remained to be done. So she applied for basic patents and placed it in trust — nota non-profit corporation, mind you — then assigned control and interim income to the Science Foundation. So eventually the government got control — but your friend owns it. It's worth millions, maybe hundreds of millions; I couldn't guess.»

They brought in dinner. Caxton used ceiling tables to protect his lawn; he lowered one to his chair and another to Japanese height so that Jill could sit on the grass. «Tender?» he asked.

«Ongerful!» she answered.

«Thanks. Remember, I cooked.»

«Ben,» she said after swallowing, «how about Smith being a — I mean, illegitimate? Can he inherit?»

«He's not illegitimate. Doctor Mary Jane was at Berkeley; California laws deny the concept of bastardy. Same for Captain Brant, as New Zealand has civilized laws. While in the home state of Doctor Ward Smith, Mary Jane's husband, a child born in wedlock is legitimate, come hell or high water. We have here, Jill, a man who is the legitimate child of three parents.»