Stranger in a Strange Land

is. Stand up for a second, Ben; let people see you. And if both you and Caxton can't or won't, his next choice is-well, I'll guess we'll reserve that name for the moment; just let it rest that there are successive choices. Uh, let me see now-" Jubal looked fuddled- "I'm out of the habit of talking on my feet. Miriam, where is that piece of paper we listed things on?"
                Jubal accepted a sheet from her, and added, "Better give me the other copies, too-" She passed over to him a thick stack of sheets. "This is a little memo we prepared for you, sir-or for Caxton, if it turns out that way. Mmm, lemme see-oh yes, steward to pay himself what he thinks the job is worth but not less than-well, a considerable sum, nobody else's business, really. Steward to deposit monies in a drawing account for living expenses of party of the first part-uh, oh yes, I thought maybe you would want to use the Bank of Shanghai, say, as your depository, and, say, Lloyd's as your business agent-or maybe the other way around-just to protect your own name and fame. But Mr. Smith won't hear of any fixed instructions-just an unlimited assignment of power, revocable by either side at choice. But I won't read all this; that's why we wrote it out-" Jubal turned and looked vacantly around. "Uh, Miriam-trot around and give this to the Secretary General, that's a good girl. Urn, these other copies, I'll leave them here. You may want to pass 'em out to people ... or you may need them yourself. Oh, I'd better give one to Mr. Caxton though- here, Ben-"
                Jubal looked anxiously around. "Uh, I guess that's all I have to say, Mr. Secretary. Did you have anything more to say to us?'
                "Just a moment. Mr. Smith?"
                "Yes, Mr. Douglas?"
                "Is this what you want? Do you want me to do what it says on this paper?"
                Jubal held his breath, avoided even glancing at his client- Mike had been carefully coached to expect such a question - . - but there had been no telling what form it would take, nor any way to tell in advance how Mike's literal interpretations could trip them.
                "Yes, Mr. Douglas." Mike's voice rang out clearly in the big room- and in a billion rooms around a planet.
                "You want me to handle your business affairs?"
                "Please, Mr. Douglas. It would be a goodness. I thank you-"
                Douglas blinked. "Well, that's clear enough. Doctor, I'll reserve my answer-but you shall have it promptly."
                "Thank you, sir. For myself as well as for my client."
                Douglas started to stand up. Assemblyman Kung's voice sharply interrupted. "One moment! How about the Larkin Decision?"
                Jubal grabbed it before Douglas could speak. "Ah, yes, the Larkin Decision. I've heard quite a lot of nonsense talked about the Larkin Decision-but mostly from irresponsible persons. Mr. Kung, what about the Larkin Decision?"
                "I'm asking you. Or your .. client. Or the Secretary General."
                Jubal said gently, "Shall I speak, Mr. Secretary?"
                "Please do."
                "Very well." Jubal paused, slowly took out a big handkerchief and blew his nose in a prolonged blast, producing a minor chord three octaves below middle C. He then fixed Kung with his eye and said solemnly, "Mr. Assemblyman, I'll address this to you-because I know it is unnecessary to address it to the government in the person of the Secretary. Once a long, long tine ago, when I was a little boy, another little boy, equally young and foolish, and I formed a club. Just the two of us. Since we had a club, we had to have rules . . - and the first rule we passed, unanimously, I should add-was that henceforth we would always call our mothers, 'crosspatch.' Silly, of course . . . but we were very young. Mr. Kung, can you deduce the outcome of that 'rule'?"
                "I won't guess, Dr. Harshaw."
                "I tried to implement our 'Crosspatch' decision once. Once was enough and it saved my chum from making the same mistake. All it got me was my young bottom well warmed with a peach switch. And. that was the end of the 'crosspatch' decision."
                Jubal cleared his throat. "Just a moment Mr. Kung. Knowing that someone was certain to raise