"Jubal, if you have not consulted Ishtar, then you have not yet consulted a gerontologist."

"That's right," agreed Athene. "Ish can turn your clock back and make you so young and horny you'll stand on your hands to pee."

"Athene," Lazarus said sternly, "repeat aloud your program on private conversations."

"Grandfather, I was on duty as secretary to your star guest when I was forced to interrupt to deliver a one-line message-interruption necessary because it was addressed to both of you. I have not been relieved and Uncle

Tobias is still in that bucket. Forty-three hundred words. Instructions, please? Or shall I drown the little monster?"

"Probably be best," Jubal answered. "Is a climax approaching?"

"Yes. Either an ending or a cliff-hanger."

"Do it both ways. Exploit first as short story, then~ as the first episode of an endless serial called 'The Stonebenders,' a double series-one angled toward adventure, the other toward sensies; exploit other rights according to the universe in which sold or leased, copyright where possible, otherwise grab the money and run. Lazarus, there are agents from other universes here, are there not?"

"Dozens, maybe hundreds. Jubal, how rich do you want to be?"

"Can't say. At the moment I'm a pauper, existing on your charity and that of my former staff. The Stonebenders could change that. Teena, I gave you the title 'Uncle Tobias'-but I'm fairly sure I never mentioned the Stonebenders. Or Aunt Alicia. Or Cousin Jule. My notes on the Stonebenders are filed in Anne... who would let herself be burned at the stake before she would part with a record to any but its owner. Well?"

The computer did not answer. Harshaw waited. At last Minerva said timidly, "Doctor Jubal, Teena can't help it. But she's an ethical computer with a code as binding as that of a Fair Witness. You have no need to worry."

Lazarus interrupted: "Minerva, quit beating around the bush. Are you saying that Teena reads minds?"

"I'm saying she can't help it, sir! A large computer with extensions widespread can't be perfectly shielded from brain waves. In self-protection, to avoid confusion, she must sort them out. After a few quadrillion nanoseconds she finds herself reading them like large print... the way a baby learns a language from hearing it."

Lazarus said stiffly, "Doctor Harshaw, I did not suspect that I was exposing you to this. I will take all necessary steps to repair it. In the meantime I hope that you will accept my shamed apology and believe in my intention to make full reparation."

"Lafe, don't take yourself so hogwash seriously."

"I beg pardon?"

"Two nice girls- One meat, one the other sort. Flat assurance that no harm was intended and that it couldn't be helped. Let me add my flat assurance that I quit being ashamed of my sins about fifty years back. I don't care who reads my mind because my life is an open book... that should be suppressed. Meanwhile I see a business deal. I supply story ideas but quit bothering to put 'em together; instead Teena picks my brain while I snooze. Minerva does the dirty work; she's the managing partner. Three-way split. 'How about it, girls?"

"I've got no use for money; I'm a computer."

"And I don't know anything about business!" Minerva protested.

"You can learn," Jubal assured her. "Talk to Anne. Teena, don't play stupid. In only three quintillion nanoseconds or less you are going to want new clothes and jewelry and Satan knows what. You'll be glad your sister Minerva has saved and invested your share of the net."

"Minerva," added Lazarus, "besides Anne, talk to Deety. Not Hilda. Hilda

would show you how to make even more money but she would grab voting control. Meanwhile let's shake a leg; Hazel is expecting us."

"And I'm thirsty," agreed Harshaw. "What were you saying about academic degrees?"

"Oh." Lazarus looked at his printout as they walked. "It turns out that the degree of doctor is so common on that list of my special guests as to be not worth noting. Listen to this: 'Asimov, Benford, Biggie, Bone, Broxon, Cargraves, Challenger, Chater, Coupling, Coster, Dorosin, Douglas, Doyle, Dula, Forward, Fu, Giblett, Gunn, Harshaw, Hartwell, Haycock, Hedrick, Hoyle, Kondo, Latham, MacRae, Martin, Mott, Nourse, Oberhelman, Passovoy, Pinero, Pournelle, Prehoda, Richardson, Rothman, Sagan, Scortia, Schmidt, Sheffield, Slaughter, Smith, Stone-Hazel and Edith-Tame, Watson, Williamson-there are more; that's just the add-on printout. And here's another double paradox: the Doctors Hartwell and the Doctors Benford are arriving tomorrow and thereby missing the dull opening plenary; obviously they are used to conventions. Jubal, why is it that the speaker who knows least talks longest?"

"Isn't that Dirac's corollary to Murphy's Law? But, Lazarus, according to this program you have not only invited critics but have provided them with special facilities. May I ask why? I don't mind eating with publishers-most publishers. Editors have their place, too-although I wouldn't want my sister to marry one. But isn't this extreme?"

Instead of answering at once, Lazarus said, "Where did Minerva go?"

Athene replied, "We're finishing off Uncle Tobias; she'll be along later. I've told Galahad."

"Thanks, Teena, Privacy mode. Jubal, two guns, three candy bars-where?"

"Lafe, earlier she was resting in the bottom of that pool. Has a young man named Mike visited here lately?"

"Your foster son? The Martian preacher? No. Well, I don't think so."

"One of the things I learned from him was to postpone indefinitely anything I could not explain....hile accepting the fact. We were speaking of critics. I asked why you were pampering them?"

They walked the length of the atrium in the older south wing before Lazarus replied: "Jubal, suppose I had refused to sell memberships to critics. What would have happened?"

"Hrrrmph! They would crawl out of the woodwork."

"So instead I gave them free passes. And a fancy lounge with plenty of typewriters. Remarkable decorations, you must see them. By asking Athene for display-don't go into that lounge; you are not a critic. Mr. Hoag will be checking credentials; book reviewers can't get past him. So don't you try."

"I wouldn't be found dead there!"

"You wouldn't be found. Avoid it. It is clearly marked, both above its door and on this program map, and Hoag you can spot by his prissy appearance and dirty fingernails. You'll note the stairs-critics are above the rest of us; there are Thirteen Steps up to their lounge."

"Thirteen'? Lafe, do I whiff something?"

Lazarus shrugged. "I don't know that the designer planned that number. Mobyas Toras, do you know him?"

"Uh... Mars?"

"Yes but not your Mars or mine. Different universe and one of the most exciting. Barsoom. Mobyas is Court Mathematician to the Warlord and took special interest in thisjob because of the way self-anointed 'critics' have treated E.R.B. Did I say that Mobyas is a topologist?"

"Possibly the best. E.R.B.'s universe is no harder to reach than any other and Mars is in its usual orbit. But that does not mean that you will find Jolly Green Giants and gorgeous red princesses dressed only in jewels. Unless invited, you are likely to find a Potemkin Village illusion tailored to your subconscious. Jubal, the interior of the Critics Lounge is somewhat like a Klein bottle, so I hear-I've never been in it. Its singularity is not apparent-as you will see from Teena's displays-as it was decorated by a very great artist. Escher."

"Aha!"

"Yes, he and Mobyas are old friends-two immortals of similar tastes; they have worked together many times. I promised critics free entrance; I made no mention of exit. I promised them typewriters and tape recorders; I did not promise typewriter ribbons or recorder tapes. I promised them their own private bar, no charges. Wouldn't be fair to charge as the bar has no liquor in it. There is a lavish dining room but no kitchen."

"Lafe, wouldn't it have been kinder to have liquidated them?"

"Who said I wanted to be kind to them? They won't starve; their commissary is by the Kilkenny Cats method. It should please them; they are used to human flesh and enjoy drinking blood-some I suspect of eating their young. But, Jubal, there is an easy way out... for any critic who is even half as smart as he thinks he is."

"Go on."

"He has to be able to read! He has to be able to read his own language, understand it, not distort the meaning. If he can read, he can walk out at once." Lazarus shrugged. "But so few critics ever learn to read. Here's the Big Top."

Harshaw looked far to the right, far to the left. "How big is it?"

"I've been afraid to ask," Lazarus admitted.

"That sign is bigger than most circus tops." Jubal stopped to read it:

THE FIRST CENTENNIAL CONVENTION

ofthe

INTERUNIVERSAL SOCIETY

for

ESCHATOLOGICAL PANTHEISTIC MULTIPLE-EGO SOLIPSISM

"Beautiful, Lafe! How did you think it up?"

"I didn't, it just grew. And I don't understand it."

"Never mind, mine host. There will be ten thousand here eager to explain it to you. Scatological Panhedonistic Multiplied Solecisms."

"What? Jubal, that's not what it says."

"If you don't understand it, how do you know?"

"Because I understood what you said. But the words don't fit."

"We'll rearrange them. Scatological Panhedonism Multiple Solecisms. 'Convinced to-' Like I say- 'Different than-"

"Don't talk dirty; we are about to have a drink."

Lazarus bypassed the queue; they walked through a hole that suddenly dilated in the canvas, then puckered tight behind them. They found themselves facing a long table; seated at it was a man working on a roster. He did not look up, simply saying, "Stand out of my light. Tickets first, no exceptions. Then name tags. Then see a clerk to pick your universe. The complaint desk is outside. Tickets-you're holding up the line."

"Snob."

The man looked up, jumped up. "Executive Director Long! I am honored!"

"And you're slow. You need at least two others taking tickets."

The official shook his head sadly. "If you knew how hard it is to hire help these days. Not for you, of course; for us common people. Director General Hilda has the labor market so cornered that- Executive Director, can't we make a deal?"

"Pipe down, give us our tags. How does this Universe I.D. thing work?" Lazarus turned to his guest. "It's an ID. for your home world, Jubal; we don't put numbers on people. Snob, take a hard look at Doctor Jubal Harshaw. Whenever you see him, it's the Red Carpet. Pronto!"

"Yes, sir! Here are your tags and now your universes."

"Jubal, you don't have to wear that but don't throw it away; someone might misuse it. But it does save introductions and sticks to anything from skin to chain mail."

"Now gentlemen observe above me the brightly lighted true color representation of the visible spectrum from infradig to ultraviolent with each slight shading being a precise wave length further assisted by simulated Fraunhofer lines representing principal inhabited planets of the explored universes while this booklet you hold in your hand is a key to identifying your wave length for example if you are French in origin you would turn alphabetically to France where the principal key dates are the conquest of Gaul 58-50 BC the conversion of Clovis 496 AD Battle of Tours 732 but as you are not French we will consider turning points in North American History 1000 1492 1535 1607 1619 1620 1664 1754 1765 1783 1789 1803 1820 1846 1882 1912 1946 1965 any of these dates and many others can switch you into a different analog-Earth a most useful method is comparison of Presidents if you happen to come from a history that includes the so-called American Revolution Director Long will you illustrate it by naming American Presidents of your first century?"

"Woodrow Wilson-I was named for him-Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, Roosevelt, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Kennedy, Kennedy, Kennedy, Kennedy, Kennedy-"

"Which brings us to 1984, right? And tells me that you experienced the

Nehemiah Scudder Interregnum and possibly the Second so-called American Revolution. Dr. Harshaw, did your world experience the Interregnum?"

"It experienced something worse, a world government."

"To me all worlds are equally bad. But it tells me where your two worlds split: 1962-and here are your colors by which you can identify others of your own world if such be your wish. A delegate came through earlier in which the split was in 1535 and San Francisco was named New Petersburg. Nov'Petrograd I should say but-"

"Snob. The Red Carpet."

"Right away! Doctor Harshaw-my card. Anything, anytime."

The Red Carpet rolled up, then carried them at a steady 10 km!hr down the enormous tent. Jubal looked at the card:

SIEGE SINISTER SERVICES SYNDICATE

'The Villains Nine Rig Ruin"

Reputations Ruined-Competitors Bankrupted-Dragons Wormed- Basements Flooded-Wells Dried Up-Georges Exterminated-Contracts Executed Promptly, bargain rates on mothers-in-law-Juries Subborned-Stocks, Bonds, & Gallows-Saturday Night Specials-Houses Haunted (skilled Poltergeist at small extra charge)-Midnight Catering to Ghouls, Vampires, & Werewolves-Incubi & Succubi for rent by the night or by the week-7-year itch powder

P.S. We Also Poison Dogs

"Lafe, these people you hired?"

"Let me see that." Lazarus was reading the list of services when Snob came running, jumped on the Red Carpet, reached over Lazarus' shoulder for the card while saying breathlessly:

"Wrong card! Here-have this one. That first card is a piece of sabotage by the firm we bought out, including good will-but it turned out there was no good will. We sued, they retaliated-among other ways by mixing their old business cards with our own new supply....hereby infecting them all. Law of Contiguity, you know. Now if I can just have that infected one, I'll burn it-"

Lazarus held it out of his reach while accepting the proffered replacement. "I'll keep the old one-interesting souvenir."

"Director Long-please!"

"Off the Carpet, Bub. Back to your job. Git!" This injunction was accompanied by crowding that caused Snob to step one foot off the Carpet... which resulted in an impromptu pas a seul that left him fifty meters behind before he recovered his balance. Meanwhile Jubal and Lazarus read the replacement:

ANYTHING UNLIMITED

Tome, Hernia, Lien, & Snob

Six Sixty-Six Smiling Slaves Supply Supreme Service

Reputations Restored-Teeth & Wells Drilled-Water Filters-Love Philtres-Chastity GOdel Lox Pict-Virginity Renewed-Scithers Sharpened-Old Saws Filed Categorically-Silver Bullets-Fresh Garlic- Fresh Strawberries-Strawberry Marks for Missing Heirs

P.S. We Also Walk Dogs

"Lafe, I don't find this card much more reassuring than the first one."

"Don't worry about it. There is less here than meets the eye."

"Where have I seen that face before? This Snob-who is he?"

"Jubal, no one seems to know what ship he came down in. I'm looking into it for Zeb-you've met Zebadiah?"

"Briefly."

"Zeb thinks he's seen him somewhere not under that phony name-and Zeb and I aren't even from the same time axis, much less the same analog series. Never mind; here's our hostess." Lazarus stepped off the Carpet, approached from behind a little old woman seated at a bar-lounge table, leaned over her, kissed her. "Hazel, age cannot wither you or custom stale. You are lovelier every decade."