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
«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
«And every space ship, these days. Who invented it?»
«I don't — Wait a minute! You mean
«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 —
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.»
«Huh? Now wait, Ben; he can't be. I'm not a lawyer but — »
«You sure ain't. Such fictions don't bother a lawyer. Smith is legitimate different ways in different jurisdictions — even though a bastard in fact. So he inherits. Besides that, while his mother was wealthy, his fathers were well to do. Brant ploughed most of his scandalous salary as a pilot on the Moon run into Lunar Enterprises. You know how that stuff boomed — they just declared another stock dividend. Brant had one vice, gambling — but the bloke won regularly and invested that, too. Ward Smith had family money. Smith is heir to both.»
«Whew!»
«That ain't half, honey. Smith is heir to the entire crew.»
«Huh?»
«All eight signed a “Gentlemen Adventurers” contract, making them mutually heirs to each other — all of them
Jill thought about the childlike creature who had made such a touching ceremony of a drink of water and felt sorry for him. Caxton went on: «I wish I could sneak a look at the
«Why not, Ben?»
«It's a nasty story. I got that much before my informant sobered up. Dr. Ward Smith delivered his wife by Caesarean section — and she died on the table. What he did next shows that he knew the score; with the same scalpel he cut Captain Brant's throat — then his own. Sorry, hon.»
Jill shivered. «I'm a nurse. I'm immune to such things.»
«You're a liar and I love you for it. I was on police beat three years, Jill; I never got hardened to it.»
«What happened to the others?»
«If we don't break the bureaucrats loose from that log, we'll never know — and I am a starry-eyed newsboy who thinks we should. Secrecy begets tyranny.»
«Ben, he might be better off if they gypped him out of his inheritance. He's very … uh, unworldly.»
«The exact word, I'm sure. Nor does he need money; the Man from Mars will never miss a meal. Any government and a thousand-odd universities and institutions would be delighted to have him as a permanent guest.»
«He'd better sign it over and forget it.»
«It's not that easy. Jill, you know the famous case of General Atomics versus Larkin, et al.?»
«Uh, you mean the Larkin Decision. I had it in school, same as everybody. What's it got to do with Smith?»
«Think back. The Russians sent the first ship to the Moon, it crashed. The United States and Canada combine to send one; it gets back but leaves nobody on the Moon. So while the United States and the Commonwealth are getting set to send a colonizing one under the sponsorship of the Federation and Russia is
