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As organized by Jubal HarshaW, landed on the flat of theExecutive Palace shortly before ten o’clock the next morning. Theunpretentious pretender to the Martian throne, Mike Smith, had not worriedabout the purpose of the trip; he had simply enjoyed every minute of theshort flight south, with utter and innocent delight.The trip was made in a chartered Flying Greyhound, and Mike sat up in theastrodome above the driver, with Jill on one side and Dorcas on his other,and stared and stared in awed wonderment as the girls pointed out sights tohim and chattered in his ears. The seat, being intended for two people, wasvery crowded, but Mike did not mind, as a warming degree of growing closernecessarilY resulted. He sat with an arm around each, and looked andlistened and tried to grok and could not have been happier if he had been tenfeet under water.It was, in fact, his first view of Terran civilization He had seen nothing at all inbeing removed from the Champion to suite K-12 at Bethesda Center; he hadindeed spent a few minutes in a taxi ten days earlier going from the hospitalto Ben’s apartment but at the time he had grokked none of it. Since that timehis world had been bounded by a house and a swimming pool, plus5urroundiflg garden and grass and trees-he had not been as far as Jubal’sgate.But now he was enormously more sophisticated than he had been ten daysago. He understood windows, realized that the bubble surrounding him was awindow and meant for looking out of and that the changing sights he sawwere indeed the cities of these people. He understood maps and could pickout, with the help of the girls, where they were and what they were seeing onthe map flowing across the lap board in front of them. But of course he hadalways known about maps; he simply had not known until recently thathumans knew about maps. It had given him a twinge of happy homesicknessthe first time he had grokked a human map. Sure, it was static and deadcompared with the maps used by his people-but it was a map. Mike was notdisposed by nature and certainly not by training to invidious comparisonseven human maps were very Martian in essence -he liked them.Now he saw almost two hundred miles of countryside, much of it sprawlingworld metropolis, and savored every inch of it, tried to grok it. He was startledby the enormous size of human cities and by their bustling activity visibleeven from the air, so very different from the slow motion, monestary-gardenpace of cities of his own people. It seemed to him that a human city mustwear out almost at once, becoming so choked with living experience that onlythe strongest of the Old Ones could bear to visit its deserted streets and grokin contemplation the events and emotions piled layer on endless Layer in it.

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Such was not the case with Jubal, despite his years of pickling; stayingsociable with Mike during the experiment dulled the edge of his wits. So,when he attempted to ask Mike what he had done, Mike thought that he wasinquiring about the events during the raid by the S.S.-concerfling which Mikestill felt latent guilt. He tried to explain and, if needed, receive Jubal’s pardon.Jubal interrupted when at last he figured out what the boy was talking about.Son, I don’t want to know what you did, nor how you did it. What you did wasjust what was needed-perfect, just perfect. But-. He blinked owlishly. .-don’ttell me about it. Don’t ever tell anybody about it.“.Not?“.’Not.’ It was the damnedest thing I’ve seen since my uncle with the twoheads debated free silver and triumphantly refuted himself. An explanationwould spoil it.“.I do not grok rightly?“.Nor do I. So let’s not worry and have another drink.“Reporters and other newsmen started arriving while the party was stillclimbing. Jubal received each of them with courteous dignity, invited them toeat, drink, and relax-but to refrain from badgering himself or the Man fromMars.Those who failed to heed his injunction were tossed into the pool.At first Jubal kept Larry and Duke at flank to administer the baptism asnecessary. But, while some of the unfortunate importunates became angryand threatened various things which did not interest Jubal (other than tocaution Mike not to take any steps), others relaxed to the inevitable andadded themselves to the dousing squad on a volunteer basis, with the fanaticenthusiasm of proselytes-Jubal had to stop them from ducking the doyenlippmann of the New York Times for a third time.During the evening Dorcas came out of the house, sought out Jubal andwhispered in his ear: .Telephone, Boss. For you.“.Take a message.“.You must answer it, Boss.“.I’ll answer it with an ax! Duke, get me an ax. I’ve been intending to get rid ofthat Iron Maiden for some time-and tonight I’m in the mood for it.“.Boss ... you want to answer this one. It’s the man you spoke to for quite along time this afternoon.“.Oh. Why didn’t you say so?“ Jubal lumbered upstairs, made sure his studydoor was bolted behind him, went to the phone. Another of Douglas’ sleekacolytes was on the screen but was replaced quickly by Douglas. .It took youlong enough to answer your phone.“.It’s my phone, Mr. Secretary. Sometimes I don’t answer it at all.“.So it would seem. Why didn’t you tell me that this Caxton fellow is analcoholic?“.Is he?“.He certainly is! He isn’t missing-not in the usual sense. He’s been off on oneof his periodic benders. He was located, sleeping it off, in a fleabag inSonora.“.I’m glad to hear that he has been found. Thank you, sir.“.He’s been picked up on a technical charge of .vagrancy.’ The charge won’tbe pressed-instead we are releasing him to you.“.I am very much in your debt, sir.“.Oh, it’s not entirely a favor! I’m having him delivered to you in the state inwhich he was found-filthy, unshaven, and, I understand, smelling like abrewery. I want you to see for yourself what sort of a tramp he is.“.Very well, sir. When may I expect him?“.Almost at once, I fancy. A courier arrow left Nogales some time ago. AtMach three or better it should be overhead soon. The pilot has instructions todeliver him to you and get a receipt.“.He shall have it.“.Now, Counsellor ... having delivered him, I wash my hands of it. I shallexpect you, and your client, to appear for talks whether you fetch along thatdrunken libeller or not.“.Agreed. When?“.Shall we say tomorrow at ten? Here.“.’Twere best done quickly.’ Agreed.“Jubal went back downstairs and paused at his broken door. .Jill! Comehere, child.“.Yes, Jubal.“ She trotted toward him, a reporter in close formation with her.Jubal waved the man back. .Private,“ he said firmly. .Family matter. Gohave a drink.“.Whose family?“.A death in yours, if you insist. Scat!“ The newsman grinned and accepted it.