Stranger in a Strange Land

HAGERSTOWN had "atmosphere" as well as good food, which meant that it had tables scattered not only over a lawn leading down to the edge of a little lake but also had tables in the boughs of three enormous old trees. Over all was a force field roof which kept the outdoors dining area perpetually summer even in rain and snow.
                Jill wanted to eat up in the trees, but Ben ignored her and bribed the maître d'hôtel to set up a table near the water in a spot of his choice, then ordered a portable stereo tank placed by their table.
                Jill was miffed. "Ben, why bother to come here and pay these prices if we can't eat in the trees and have to endure that horrible jitterbox?"
                "Patience, little one. The tables up in the trees all have microphone circuits; they have to have them for service. This table is not gimmicked- I hope-as I saw the waiter take it from a stack of unused ones. As for the tank, not only is it unAmerican and probably subversive to eat without watching stereo but also the racket from it would interfere even with a directional mike aimed at us from a distance . . . assuming that Mr. Douglas's investigators are beginning to take an interest in us, which I misdoubt they are."
                "Do you really think they might be shadowing us, Ben?" Jill shivered. "I don't think I'm cut out for a life of crime."
                "Pish and likewise tush! When I was working on the General Synthetics bribery scandals I never slept twice in the same place and ate nothing but packaged food I had bought myself. After a while you get to like it- stimulates the metabolism."
                "My metabolism doesn't need it, thank you. All I require is one elderly, wealthy private patient."
                "Not going to marry me, Jill?"
                "After my future husband kicks off, yes. Or maybe I'll be so rich I can afford to keep you as a pet."
                "Best offer I've had in months. How about starting tonight?"
                "After he kicks off."
                During their cocktails the musical show plus lavish commercials which had been banging their eardrums from the stereo tank suddenly stopped. An announcer's head and shoulders filled the tank; he smiled sincerely and said, "NWNW, New World Networks and its sponsor of the hour, Wise Girl Maithusian Lozenges, is honored and privileged to surrender the next few minutes to a special, history-making broadcast by the Federation Government. Remember, friends, every wise girl uses Wise Girls. Easy to carry, pleasant to take, guaranteed no-fail, and approved for sale without prescription under Public Law 1312, Why take a chance on old-fashioned, unesthetic, harmful, unsure methods? Why risk losing his love and respect? Remember The lovely, lupine announcer glanced aside and hurried through the rest of his commercial: "I give you the Wise Girl, who in turn brings you the Secretary General-and the Man from Mars!"
                The 3-D picture dissolved into that of a young woman, so sensuous, so unbelievably mammalian, so seductive, as to make every male who saw her unsatisfied with local talent. She stretched and wiggled and said in a bedroom voice, "I always use Wise Girl."
                The picture dissolved and a full orchestra played the opening bars of Hail to Sovereign Peace. Ben said, "Do you use Wise Girl?"
                "None o' your business!" She looked ruffled and added, "It's a quack nostrum. Anyhow, what makes you think I need it?"
                Caxton did not answer; the tank had filled with the fatherly features of Mr. Secretary General Douglas. "Friends," he began, "fellow citizens of the Federation, I have tonight a unique honor and privilege. Since the triumphant return of our trail-blazing ship Champion-" He continued in a few thousand well-chosen words to congratulate the citizens of Earth on their successful contact with another planet, another civilized race. He managed to imply that the exploit of the Champion was the personal accomplishment of every citizen of the Federation, that any one of them could have led the expedition had he not been busy with other serious work-and that he, Secretary Douglas, had been chosen by them as their humble instrument to work their will. The flattering notions were never stated baldly, but implied; the underlying assumption being