Stranger in a Strange Land

«Yes, Maryam.Ouch! Women should not be muscular. Jubal, as a scientist, I find Michael the prize of my career. As a Muslim, I find in him a willingness to submit to the will of God … and this makes me happy for his sake although there are difficulties and as yet he does not grok what the English word “God” means.» He shrugged. «Nor the Arabic word “Allah”. But as a man — and always a Slave of God — I love this lad, our foster son and water brother, and would not have him under bad influences. Aside from creed, this Digby strikes me as a bad influence. What do you think?»

«Olé!»Ben applauded. «He's a slimy bastard — I haven't exposed his racket in my column simply because the Syndicate is afraid to print it. Stinky, keep talking and you'll have me studying Arabic and buying a rug.»

«I hope so. The rug is not necessary.»

Jubal sighed. «I agree with you. I'd rather see Mike smoking marijuana than converted by Digby. But I don't think there is any danger of Mike's being taken in by that syncretic hodgepodge … and he's got to learn to stand up to bad influences. I consider you a good influence — but I don't think you stand much more chance — the boy has an amazingly strong mind. Muhammad may have to make way for a new prophet.»

«If God so wills,» Mahmoud answered.

«That leaves no room for argument,» Jubal agreed.

«We were discussing religion before you got home,» Dorcas said softly. «Boss, did you know that women have souls?»

«They do?»

«So Stinky says.»

«Maryam,» Mahmoud explained, «wanted to know why we “Mohammedans” thought only men had souls.»

«Miriam, that's as vulgar a misconception as the notion that Jews sacrifice Christian babies. The Koran states that entire families enter into Paradise, men and women together. For example, see “Ornaments of Gold” — verse seventy, isn't it, Stinky?»

«“Enter the Garden, ye and your wives, to be made glad”. That's as well as it can be translated,» agreed Mahmoud.

«Well,» said Miriam, «I had heard about the beautiful houris that Mohammedan men have for playthings in Paradise and that didn't seem to leave room for wives.»

«Houris,» said Jubal, «are separate creations, like djinni and angels. They don't need souls, they are spirits to start with, eternal, unchanging, and beautiful. There are male houris, too, or equivalents. Houris don't earn their way into Paradise; they're on the staff. They serve delicious foods and pass around drinks that never give hangovers and entertain as requested. But the souls of wives don't have to work. Correct, Stinky?»

«Close enough, aside from your flippant choice of words. The houris — » He sat up so suddenly that he dumped Miriam. «Say! Perhaps you girls don't have souls!»

Miriam said bitterly, «Why, you ungrateful dog of an infidel! Take that back!»

«Peace, Maryam. If you don't have a soul, then you're immortal anyhow. Jubal … is it possible for a man to die and not notice it?»

«Can't say. Never tried it.»

«Could I have died on Mars and just dreamed that I came home? Look around you! A garden the Prophet himself would envy. Four beautiful houris, serving lovely food and delicious drinks at all hours. Even their male counterparts, if you want to be fussy. Is this Paradise?»

«I guarantee it ain't,» Jubal assured him. «My taxes are due.»

«Still, that doesn't affect me.»

«And take these houris — Even if we stipulate that they are of adequate beauty — after all, beauty is in the eye of the be-holder — »

«They pass.»

«And you'll pay for that, Boss,» Miriam added.

« — there still remains,» Jubal pointed out, «one requisite attribute of houris.»

«Mmmm — » said Mahmoud, «we need not go into that. In Paradise, rather than a temporary physical condition, it would be a permanent spiritual attribute. Yes?»

«In that case,» Jubal said emphatically, «I am certain that these are not houris.»

Mahmoud sighed. «Then I'll have to convert one.»

«Why one? There are places where you can have the full quota.»

«No, my brother. In the wise words of the Prophet, while the Legislations permit four, it is impossible to deal justly with more than one.»

«That's some relief. Which one?»

«We'll see. Maryam, are you feeling spiritual?»

«You go to hell! “Houris” indeed!»

«Jill?»

«Give me a break,» Ben protested. «I'm working on Jill.»

«Later, Jill. Anne?»

«Sorry. I've got a date.»

«Dorcas? You're my last chance.»

«Stinky,» she said softly, «just how spiritual do you want me to feel?»

Mike went upstairs to his room, closed the door, got on the bed, assumed the foetal position, rolled up his eyes, swallowed his tongue, and slowed his heart. Jill did not like him to do this in the daytime but did not object as long as he did not do it publicly — so many things he must not do publicly but only this one aroused her ire. He had been waiting since leaving that room of terrible wrongness; he needed very badly to withdraw and try to grok.

He had done something that Jill had told him not to —