suppressing such disturbance. But he decided that if it died now he must die at once also — he could not grok it any other wise, not after giving of water.
The second half contained symbols he had encountered before. He grokked imperfectly the intention but there seemed to be a way to avoid this crisis — by acceding to the suggested wish. Perhaps if the woman took its clothes off neither of them need discorporate. He smiled happily. «Please.»
Jill opened her mouth, closed it. She opened it again. «Well, I'll be darned!»
Smith could grok emotional violence and knew that he had offered a wrong reply. He began to compose his mind for discorporation, savoring and cherishing all that he had been and seen, with especial attention to this woman creature. Then he became aware that the woman was bending over him and he knew somehow that it was not about to die. It looked into his face. «Correct me if I am wrong,» it said, «but were you asking me to take my clothes off?»
The inversions and abstractions required careful translation but Smith managed it. «Yes,» he answered, hoping that it would not stir up a new crisis.
«That's what I thought you said. Brother, you aren't ill.»
The word «brother» he considered first — the woman was reminding him that they had been joined in water. He asked the help of his nestlings that he might measure up to whatever this new brother wanted. «I am not ill,» he agreed.
«Though I'm darned if I know what is wrong with you. I won't peel down. And I've got to leave.» It straightened up and turned toward the side door — then stopped and looked back with a quizzical smile. «You might ask me again, real prettily, under other circumstances. I'm curious to see what I might do.»
The woman was gone. Smith relaxed and let the room fade away. He felt sober triumph that he had somehow comported himself so that it was not necessary for them to die … but there was much to grok. The woman's last speech had contained symbols new to him and those which were not new had been arranged in fashions not easily understood. But he was happy that the flavor had been suitable for communication between water brothers — although touched with something disturbing and terrifyingly pleasant. He thought about his new brother, the woman creature, and felt odd tingles. The feeling reminded him of the first time he had been allowed to be present at a discorporation and he felt happy without knowing why.
He wished that his brother Doctor Mahmoud were here. There was so much to grok, so little to grok from.
Jill spent the rest of her watch in a daze. The face of the Man from Mars stayed in her mind and she mulled over the crazy things he had said. No, not «crazy» — she had done her stint in psychiatric wards and felt certain that his remarks had not been psychotic. She decided that «innocent» was the term — then decided that the word was not adequate. His expression was innocent, his eyes were not. What sort of creature had a face like that?
She had once worked in a Catholic hospital; she suddenly saw the face of the Man from Mars surrounded by the headdress of a nursing sister, a nun. The idea disturbed her; there was nothing female about Smith's face.
She was changing into street clothes when another nurse stuck her head into the locker room. «Phone, Jill.» Jill accepted the call, sound without vision, while she dressed.
«Is this Florence Nightingale?» a baritone voice asked.
«Speaking. That you, Ben?»
«The stalwart upholder of the freedom of the press in person. Little one, are you busy?»
«What do you have in mind?»
«I have in mind buying you a steak, plying you with liquor, and asking you a question.»
«The answer is still “No.”»
«Not
«Oh, you know another one? Tell me.»
«Later. I want you softened up first.»
«Real steak? Not syntho?»
«Guaranteed. Stick a fork in it and it will moo.»
«You must be on an expense account, Ben.»
«That's irrelevant and ignoble. How about it?»
«You've talked me into it.»
«Roof on the medical center. Ten minutes.»
She put the suit she had changed into back into her locker and put on a dress kept there for emergencies. It was demure, barely translucent, with bustle and bust pads so subdued that they merely re-created the effect she would have produced wearing nothing. Jill looked at herself with satisfaction and took the bounce tube up to the roof.
She was looking for Ben Caxton when the roof orderly touched her arm. «There's a car paging you, Miss Boardman — that Talbot saloon.»
«Thanks, Jack.» She saw the taxi spotted for take-off, with its door open. She climbed in, and was about to hand Ben a back-handed compliment when she saw that he was not inside. The taxi was on automatic; its door closed and it took to the air, swung out of the circle and sliced across the Potomac. It stopped on a landing flat over Alexandria and Caxton got in; it took off again. Jill looked him over. «My, aren't we important! Since when do you send a robot to pick up your women?»
He patted her knee and said gently, «Reasons, little one. I can't be seen picking you up — »
«Well!»
« — and you can't afford to be seen with me. So simmer down, it was necessary.»
«Hmm … which one of us has leprosy?»
«Both of us. Jill, I'm a newspaperman.»
«I was beginning to think you were something else.»
«And you are a nurse at the hospital where they are holding the Man from Mars.»
«Does that make me unfit to meet your mother?»
«Do you need a map, Jill? There are more than a thousand reporters in this area, plus press agents, ax grinders, winchells, lippmanns, and the stampede that arrived when the
«I don't see that it matters. I'm not the Man from Mars.»
He looked her over. «You certainly aren't. But you are going to help me see him — which is why I didn't pick you up.»
«Huh? Ben, you've been out in the sun without your hat. They've got a marine guard around him.»
«So they have. So we talk it over.»
«I don't see what there is to talk about.»
«Later. Let's eat.»
«Now you sound rational. Would your expense account run to the New Mayflower? You
Caxton frowned. «Jill, I wouldn't risk a restaurant closer than Louisville. It would take this hack two hours to get that far. How about dinner in my apartment?»
«“ — Said the Spider to the Fly.” Ben, I'm too tired to wrestle.»
«Nobody asked you to. King's X, cross my heart and hope to die.»
«I don't like that much better. If I'm safe with you, I must be slipping. Well, all right, King's X.»
Caxton punched buttons; the taxi, which had been circling under a «hold» instruction, woke up and headed for the apartment hotel where Ben lived. He punched a phone number and said to Jill, «How much time do you want to get liquored up, sugar foot? I'll tell the kitchen to have the steaks ready.»
Jill considered it. «Ben, your mousetrap has a private kitchen.»
«Of sorts. I can grill a steak.»
«I'll grill the steak. Hand me the phone.» She gave orders, stopping to make sure that Ben liked endive.
