Stranger in a Strange Land

a blasphemy. We don't think in Martian. We can't"
                "Thou art God," Mike said agreeably. "God groks."
                "Hell, let's change the subject! Jubal, could I impose on my fraternal status for some more gin?"
                "I'll get it," said Dorcas, and jumped up.
                It was a pleasant family picnic, made easy by Jubal's gift for warm informality, a gift shared by his staff, plus the fact that the three newcomers were themselves the same easy sort of people-each learned, acclaimed, and with no need to strive. And all four men shared a foster-father interest in Mike. Even Dr. Mahmoud, rarely truly off guard with those who did not share with him the one true faith in submission to the Will of God, always beneficent, merciful, found himself relaxed and happy. It had pleased him very much to learn that Jubal read the words of the Prophet and, now that he stopped to notice it, the women of Jubal's household were really much plumper than he had thought at first glance. That dark one- But he put the thought out of his mind; he was a guest.
                But it pleased him very much that these women did not chatter, did not intrude themselves into the sober talk of men, but were very quick with food and drink in warm hospitality. He had been shocked at Miriam's casual disrespect toward her master-then recognized it for what it was: liberty permitted cats and favorite children in the privacy of the home.
                Jubal explained early that they were doing nothing but waiting on word from the Secretary General. "If he means business-and I think he's ready to deal-we may hear from him yet today. If not, we'll go home this evening . . and come back if we have to. But if we had stayed in the Palace, he might have been tempted to dicker. Here, dug into our own hole, we can refuse to dicker."
                "Dicker for what?" asked Captain van Tromp. "You gave him what he wanted."
                "Not all that he wanted. Douglas would rather have that power of attorney be utterly irrevocable . . . instead of on his good behavior, with the power reverting to a man he despises and is afraid of-namely that scoundrel there with the innocent smile, our brother Ben, But there are others besides Douglas who are certain to want to dicker, too. That bland buddha Kung-hates my guts, I've just snatched the rug out from under him. But if he could figure a deal that might tempt us-before Douglas nails this down-he would offer it. So we stay out of his way, too. Kung is one reason why we are eating and drinking nothing that we did not fetch with us."
                "You really feel that's something to worry about?" asked Nelson. "Truthfully, Jubal, I had assumed that you were a gourmet who insisted on his own cuisine even away from home. I can't imagine being poisoned, in a major hotel such as this."
                Jubal shook his head sorrowfully. "Sven, you're the sort of honest man who thinks everybody else is honest-and you are usually right. No, nobody is going to try to poison you . . . but your wife might collect your insurance simply because you shared a dish with Mike."
                "You really think that?"
                "Sven, I'll order anything you want. But I won't touch it and I won't let Mike touch it. For I'll lay heavy odds that any waiter who comes to this suite will be on Kung's payroll . . . and maybe on two or three others'. I'm not seeing boogie men behind bushes; they know where we are-and they've had a couple of hours in which to act. Sven, in cold seriousness, my principal worry has been to keep this lad alive long enough to figure out a way to sterilize and stabilize the power he represents . . . so that it would be to no one's advantage to have him dead."
                Jubal sighed. "Consider the black widow spider. It's a timid little beastie, useful and, for my taste, the prettiest of the arachnids, with its shiny, patent-leather finish and its red hourglass trademark. But the poor thing has the fatal misfortune of possessing enormously too much power for its size. So everybody kills it on sight.
                "The black widow can't help it, it has no way to avoid its venomous power.
                "Mike is in the same dilemma. He isn't as pretty as a black widow spider-"
                "Why, Jubal!" Dorcas said indignantly. "What a