Stranger in a Strange Land

«Child, I don't have your glandular bias. Pretty or not, Mike can't get rid of that money, nor is it safe for him to have it. Not just Kung. The High Court is not as “non-political” as it might be … although their methods would make a prisoner out of him rather than kill him — a fate which, for my taste, is worse. Not to mention other interested parties, in and out of office, who have turned over in their minds how it would affect their fortunes if Mike were guest of honor at a funeral. I — »

«Telephone, Boss.»

«Anne, you hail from Porlock.»

«No, Dallas.»

«I will not answer the phone.»

«She said to tell you it was Becky.»

«Why didn't you say so?» Jubal hurried out of the room, found Madame Vesant's face in the screen. «Becky! I'm glad to see you, girl!»

«Hi, Doc. I caught your act.»

«How'd it look?»

«I've never seen a tip turned more expertly. Doc, the profession lost a great talker when you weren't born twins.»

«That's high praise, Becky.» Jubal thought rapidly. «But you set up the act; I just cashed in on it — and there's plenty of cash. So name your fee, Becky.»

Madame Vesant frowned. «You've hurt my feelings.»

«Becky! Anybody can clap and cheer — but applause worth while will be found in a pile of soft, green folding money. The Man from Mars picks up this tab and, believe me, he can afford it.» He grinned. «All you'll get from me is a hug and kiss that will crack your ribs.»

She relaxed and smiled. «I remember how you used to pat my fanny while you assured me that the Professor was sure to get well — you always could make a body feel better.»

«Surely I never did anything so unprofessional.»

«You know you did. You weren't fatherly about it, either.»

«Maybe it was the treatment you needed. I've given up fanny-patting-but I'll make an exception in your case.»

«You'd better.»

«And you'd better figure out that fee. Don't forget the zeroes.»

«Doc, there are more ways of collecting a fee than by making a fast count on the change. Have you been watching the market today?»

«No, and don't tell me. Come have a drink instead.»

«Uh, I'd better not. I promised, well, a rather important client that I would be available.»

«I see. Becky, would the stars show that this matter would turn out best for everybody if it were signed and sealed today? Maybe just after the market closes?»

She looked thoughtful. «I'll look into it.»

«Do. And come visit us. You'll like the boy. He's as weird as snake's suspenders but sweet as a stolen kiss.»

«Uh … I will. Thanks, Doc.»

They said good-by. Jubal found that Dr. Nelson had taken Mike into a bedroom to examine him. The surgeon was looking baffled. «Doctor,» Nelson said, «I saw this patient only ten days ago. Tell me where he got those muscles?»

«Why, he sent in a coupon from “Rut: The Magazine for He-Men”. You know, the ad that tells how a ninety-pound weakling can — »

«Doctor, please!»

«Why not ask him?»

Nelson did so. «I thinked them,» Mike answered.

«That's right,» Jubal agreed. «He “thinked” 'em. When I got him, last week, he was a mess, slight, flabby, and pale. Looked as if he had been raised in a cave — I gather he was. So I told him to grow strong. He did.»

«Exercises?» Nelson said doubtfully.

«Some swimming.»

«A few days' swimming won't make a man look as if he had been sweating over bar bells for years!» Nelson frowned. «I know Mike has control of the so-called “involuntary” muscles. But that has precedent. This, however, requires one to assume — »

«Doctor,» Jubal said gently, «why not admit you don't grok it?»

Nelson sighed. «I might as well. Put on your clothes, Michael.»

Later, Jubal unburdened himself privately to the three officers of the Champion. «The financial end was simple: just tie up Mike's money so that a struggle couldn't take place. Not even if he dies, because I've told Douglas that Mike's death ends his stewardship whereas a rumor from a usually reliable source — me — has reached Kung and others that Mike's death gives Douglas permanent control. Of course, if I had magic powers, I would have stripped the boy of every penny. That — »

«Why, Jubal?» the Captain interrupted.

Harshaw stared. «Are you wealthy, Skipper? I mean rich.»

«Me?»Van Tromp snorted. «I've my salary, a pension someday, a mortgaged house — and two girls in college. I'd like to be wealthy!»

«You wouldn't like it.»

«Huh!You wouldn't say that if you had daughters in school.»

«I put four through college — and went in debt to my armpits. One is a star in her profession … under her married name because I'm an old bum instead of a revered memory. The others remember my birthday and don't bother me; education didn't harm them. I mention my offspring only to prove that I know that a father often needs more than he has. But you can go with some firm that will pay you several times what you're getting just for your name on their letterhead. You've had offers?»

«That's beside the point,» Captain van Tromp answered stiffly. «I'm a professional man.»

«Meaning that money can't tempt you into giving up commanding space ships.»