Stranger in a Strange Land

agreed Mahmoud.
                "Well," said Miriam, "I had heard about the beautiful bouris that Mohammedan men have for playthingS when they go to heaven and that didn't seem to leave much room for wives."
                "Houris aren't women," said Jubal. "They are separate creations, like djinni and angels. They don't need human souls, they are spirits to start with, eternal and unchanging and beautiful. There are male houris, too, or the male equivalent of houris. Houris don't have to earn their way into Paradise; they're on the staif. They serve endless delicious foods and pass around drinks that never give hangovers and entertain in other ways as requested. But the souls of human wives don't have to do any housework, any more than the men. Correct, Stinky?"
                "Close enough, aside from your flippant choice of words. The lionris-" He stopped and sat up so suddenly that he dumped Miriam. "Say! It's just possible that you girls don't have souls!"
                Miriam sat up and 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 and won't miss it. 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 be pleased with. Four beautiful houris, passing around lovely food and delicious drinks at all hours. Even their male counterparts, if you want to be fussy. Is this Paradise?"
                "I can guarantee that it isn't," Jubal assured him. "My taxes are due this week."
                "Still, that doesn't affect me."
                "And take these houris- Even if we stipulate for the sake of argument that they are of beauty adequate to meet the specifications-alter all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder-"
                "They pass."
                "And you'll pay for that, Boss," Miriam added.
                "-there still remains," Jubal pointed out, "one more requisite attribute of houris."
                "Mmmm-" said Mahmoud, "I don't think we need go into that. In Paradise, rather than a temporary physical condition, it would be a permanent spiritual attribute-more a state of mind. Yes?"
                "In that case," Jubal said emphatically, "I am certain that these are not houris."
                Mahmoud sighed. "In that case I'll just have to convert one."
                "Why only one? There are still places left in the world where you can have the full quota."
                "No, my friend. In the wise words of the Prophet, while the Legislations permit four, it is impossible for a man to deal justly with more than one."
                "That's some relief. Which one?"
                "We'll have to see. Maryam, are you feeling spiritual?"
                "You go to hell! 'Houris' indeed!"
                "Jill?"
                "Give me a break," Ben protested. "I'm still 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?"

                When Mike got inside the house, he went straight 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 almost to nothing. He knew that Jill did not like him to do this in the daytime, but she did not object as long as he did not do it publicly. There were so many things that he must not do publicly, but only this one really aroused her ire. He had been waiting to do this ever since he had left that room of terrible wrongness; he needed very badly to withdraw and try to grok all that had happened. For he had done something else that Jill had told him not to- He felt a very human urge to tell himself that it had been forced on him, that it was not his fault; but his Martian training did not permit him this easy escape. He had arrived at a cusp, right action had been required, the choice had been his. He grokked that he had chosen correctly. But his water brother Jill had forbidden this