"We've got a proper farm, not a one-cash-crop deal. Chickens. Small herd of whiteface, plus milch cows. Pigs. Mutated fruit trees. Vegetables. A little wheat and grind it ourselves and don't insist on white flour, and sell--free market--what's left. Make own beer and brandy. I learned drillman extending our tunnels. Everybody works, not too hard. Kids make cattle take exercise by switching them along; don't use tread mill. Kids gather eggs and feed chickens, don't use much machinery. Air we can buy from L-City--aren't far out of town and pressure-tunnel connected. But more often we sell air; being farm, cycle shows Oh-two excess. Always have valuta to meet bills."

"How about water and power?"

"Not expensive. We collect some power, sunshine screens on surface, and have a little pocket of ice. Wye, our farm was founded before year two thousand, when L-City was one natural cave, and we've kept improving it--advantage of line marriage; doesn't die and capital improvements add up."

"But surely your ice won't last forever?"

"Well, now--" I scratched head and grinned. "We're careful; we keep our sewage and garbage and sterilize and use it. Never put a drop back into city system. But--don't tell Warden, dear, but back when Greg was teaching me to drill, we happened to drill into bottom of main south reservoir--and had a tap with us, spilled hardly a drop. But we do buy some metered water, looks better--and ice pocket accounts for not buying much. As for power--well, power is even easier to steal. I'm a good electrician, Wyoh."

"Oh, wonderful!" Wyoming paid me a long whistle and looked delighted. "Everybody should do that!"

"Hope not, would show. Let 'em think up own ways to outwit Authority; our family always has. But back to your plan, Wyoh: two things wrong. Never get 'solidarity'; blokes like Hauser would cave in--because they are in a trap; can't hold out. Second place, suppose you managed it. Solidarity. So solid not a tonne of grain is delivered to catapult head. Forget ice; it's grain that makes Authority important and not just neutral agency it was set up to be. No grain. What happens?"

"Why, they have to negotiate a fair price, that's what!"

"My dear, you and your comrades listen to each other too much. Authority would call it rebellion and warship would orbit with bombs earmarked for L-City and Hong Kong and Tycho Under and Churchill and Novylen, troops would land, grain barges would lift, under guard--and farmers would break necks to cooperate. Terra has guns and power and bombs and ships and won't hold still for trouble from ex-cons. And troublemakers like you--and me; with you in spirit--us lousy troublemakers will be rounded up and eliminated, teach us a lesson. And earthworms would say we had it coming... because our side would never be heard. Not on Terra."

Wyoh looked stubborn. "Revolutions have succeeded before. Lenin had only a handful with him."

"Lenin moved in on a power vacuum. Wye, correct me if I'm wrong. Revolutions succeeded when--only when--governments had gone rotten soft, or disappeared."

"Not true! The American Revolution."

"South lost, nyet?"

Not that one, the one a century earlier. They had the sort of troubles with England that we are having now--and they won!"

"Oh, that one. But wasn't England in trouble? France, and Spain, and Sweden--or maybe Holland? And Ireland. Ireland was rebelling; O'Kellys were in it. Wyoh, if you can stir trouble on Terra--say a war between Great China and North American Directorate, maybe PanAfrica lobbing bombs at Europe, I'd say was wizard time to kill Warden and tell Authority it's through. Not today."

"You're a pessimist."

"Nyet, realist. Never pessimist. Too much Loonie not to bet if any chance. Show me chances no worse then ten to one against and I'll go for broke. But want that one chance in ten." I pushed back chair. "Through eating?"

"Yes. Bolshoyeh spasebaw, tovarishch. It was grand!"

"My pleasure. Move to couch and I'll rid of table and dishes, --no, can't help; I'm host." I cleared table, sent up dishes, saving coffee and vodka, folded table, racked chairs, turned to speak.

She was sprawled on couch, asleep, mouth open and face softened into little girl.

Went quietly into bath and closed door. After a scrubbing I felt better--washed tights first and were dry and fit to put on by time I quit lazing in tub--don't care when world ends long as I'm bathed and in clean clothes.

Wyoh was still asleep, which made problem. Had taken room with two beds so she would not feel I was trying to talk her into bundling--not that I was against it but she had made clear she was opposed. But my bed had to be made from couch and proper bed was folded away. Should I rig it out softly, pick her up like limp baby and move her? Went back into bath and put on arm.

Then decided to wait. Phone had hush hood. Wyoh seemed unlikely to wake, and things were gnawing me. I sat down at phone, lowered hood, punched "MYCROFTXXX."

"Hi, Mike."

"Hello, Man. Have you surveyed those jokes?"

"What? Mike, haven't had a minute--and a minute may be a long time to you but it's short to me. I'll get at it as fast as I can."

"Okay, Man. Have you found a not-stupid for me to talk with?"

"Haven't had time for that, either. Uh...wait." I looked out through hood at Wyoming. "Not-stupid" in this case meant empathy... Wyoh had plenty. Enough to be friendly with a machine? I thought so. And could be trusted; not only had we shared trouble but she was a subversive.

"Mike, would you like to talk with a girl?"

"Girls are not-stupid?"

"Some girls are very not-stupid, Mike."

"I would like to talk with a not-stupid girl, Man."

"I'll try to arrange. But now I'm in trouble and need your help."

"I will help, Man."

"Thanks, Mike. I want to call my home--but not ordinary way. You know sometimes calls are monitored, and if Warden orders it, lock can be put on so that circuit can be traced."

"Man, you wish me to monitor your call to your home and put a lock-and-trace on it? I must inform you that I already know your home call number and the number from which you are calling."

"No, no! Don't want it monitored, don't want it locked and traced. Can you call my home, connect me, and control circuit so that it can't be monitored, can't be locked, can't be traced--even if somebody has programmed just that? Can you do it so that they won't even know their program is bypassed?"

Mike hesitated. I suppose it was a question never asked and he had to trace a few thousand possibilities to see if his control of system permitted this novel program. "Man, I can do that. I will."

"Good! Uh, program signal. If I want this sort of connection in future, I'll ask for 'Sherlock.'"

"Noted. Sherlock was my brother." Year before, I had explained to Mike how he got his name. Thereafter he read all Sherlock Holmes stories, scanning film in Luna City Carnegie Library. Don't know how he rationalized relationship; I hesitated to ask.

"Fine! Give me a 'Sherlock' to my home."

A moment later I said, "Mum? This is your favorite husband."

She answered, "Manuel! Are you in trouble again?"

I love Mum more than any other woman including my other wives, but she never stopped bringing me up--Bog willing, she never will. I tried to sound hurt. "Me? Why, you know me, Mum."

"I do indeed. Since you are not in trouble, perhaps you can tell me why Professor de la Paz is so anxious to get in touch with you--he has called three times--and why he wants to reach some woman with unlikely name of Wyoming Knott--and why he thinks you might be with her? Have you taken a bundling companion, Manuel, without telling me? We have freedom in our family, dear, but you know that I prefer to be told. So that I will not be taken unawares."

Mum was always jealous of all women but her co-wives and never, never, never admitted it. I said, "Mum, Bog strike me dead, I have not taken a bundling companion."