found him? On the sidewalk below histwenty-third-floor window."
As Feisel went out, Philon swore softly at his retreating back. ButFeisel's little story sent a chill through him.
That evening when he descended from his copter port and stepped intohis living room he was surprised to hear young voices upstairs.Deciding to investigate he stepped on the escalator. At John's door hepoked his head in.
"Hello."
A young blond-headed boy with bright clear eyes turned to look at himand a younger girl with short curly hair smiled back.
John said, "Phil, this is Jimmie, and Jean, his sister. They don'thave a home-school teleclass rig yet, so they're attending with me."
"I see." Philon nodded to the children. "And how did you like yourfirst day at school?"
"Fine," Jean said, beaming until her eyes almost disappeared. "It wasfun. The teacher was talking about the history of atomic energy andwhen I told her we had one of the first editions of the famous Smythreport on _Atomic Energy_ she was surprised."
"A first edition of the _Smyth Report_? No wonder your teacher wassurprised." Through Philon's mind ran the recollection that firsteditions of the Smyth Report brought as high as seventy thousanddollars.
The children's excited chatter was suddenly interrupted by the frontdoor chimes. Stepping to the wall televiewer, Philon pressed a buttonand said, "Who is it?"
A pleasant-faced man with a startled look said, "Oh--sorry. Thisgadget on the door-casing surprised me. Ah--I think my children,Jimmie and Jean, are here. I'm Bill MacDonald."
Behind him Philon heard Jean suppress a dismayed cry. "Gosh, Jimmie,it's late. Daddy's had to come for us!"
Philon said, "And I'm Phil Miller, MacDonald. Come in. We'll be downin a moment."
The MacDonald children and John headed for the stairs in a happy rush,ignoring the descending escalator, two steps at a time. Philonfollowed at a meditative pace, his thoughts trooping stealthilyabreast. Seventy thousand dollars. Now, if he were to....
"Beautiful home you've got here, Miller."
Philon came out of his daydreaming to see MacDonald coming into viewaround the corner of a living room ell.
Philon took his extended hand. "Thanks. Glad you like it."
Jean broke in breathlessly. "Oh, Daddy, you ought to see how theyconduct classes--by school TV. You write on a glass square and itappears immediately at the teacher's roll-board. And when you--"
Jimmie interrupted. "Aw, lemme tell 'im something too, Jean. Dad, Johnused a spare TV for Jean's freshman class while we 'showed' for juniorclass on his. Gosh, in history, Dad, their old newsreels go back toWorld War Two. I even saw your Marine unit--"
MacDonald cut his son short. "That's enough, Jimmie. You can tell usabout it later." He herded his children toward the front door."Thanks, Miller, for letting the kids use the school TV. I'm havingone installed tomorrow."
After they left John said with a sparkle Philon had never seen before,"You know, Phil, those are the most interesting kids I've ever met.All the others I know are bored stiff. They've been everyplace andthey've done everything.
"But Jimmie and Jean ask more questions about things than anybody Iknow. They're really interested. Every time I drop in on them they'restudying history beginning with the middle of the Twentieth Century.They're absolutely fascinated and read it like fiction."
With more on his mind than his neighbors' unusual behavior Philonsaid, "Mmm." He stood looking at the boy for a long moment until Johnfinally shifted self-consciously.
"What's the matter, Phil?"
Philon ended his musing. "Tomorrow night we're all going to call onthe MacDonalds. And while we're there I want you to slip that copy ofthe _Smyth Report_ out of their library."
For a moment the young boy's smooth face was a blank mask. Then itfilled in with shocked surprise, then resentment and finally anger."You mean--steal?"
"Of course. If they're too innocent to realize the value of the bookthat's their hard luck."
"But, Phil, I can't imagine myself stealing from...."
Impatiently, Philon said, "Since when did you suddenly get soholier-than-thou? Life is harsh, life is iron-fisted and if you don'tkeep your guard up you're going to get socked in the kisser."
John said slowly with a certain tone of shame, "Yes, I know. As farback as I can remember you've told me that. But in spite of it I can'thelp feeling it isn't right to treat the MacDonalds that way. They'retoo nice, too good."
"Look, John. You might as well learn the hard facts of life. All thehigh-sounding arguments for a moral world and all the laws on thebooks implementing those arguments are just eyewash. Sure, thePresident swears that he will uphold the constitution and enforce allthe laws.
"Then we carefully surround him with counterspies--wire his rooms withdictaphones, slit his mail, install secret informers on his staff. Allbecause no matter who the party is able to elect we don't trusthim--because the society he represents does not trust itself."
"Is that why we have more and bigger jails than ever?"
Philon shrugged. "All I'm trying to tell you is don't go soft-headedor the world will take your shirt."
The next day before leaving for the office Philon said to his wife,"Call up the MacDonalds and if they're going to be home tonight tellthem we'll be over for a visit."
Ursula made a face. "Do we _have_ to call on those people? They'llbore me stiff."
"For heaven's sake, Ursula! It's a matter of vital importance tome--and you also, if I have to appeal to your wide streak ofselfishness."
"I can't see it."
"I'll explain later. I've got to go."
During the day Ursula called him. "Well, Phil, I called as you saidand I've committed us for dinner tonight."
"Dinner! Hmm, they _are_ convivial people."
"Yes and the dinner is going to be cooked right there in their house.How vulgar can some people get?"
That evening while dressing Ursula said, "Phil, John spends a lot oftime at the MacDonalds'. What do you suppose he sees in them? It getsme the way he quotes them all the time and reports their least doings.Today he came tearing into the house and said, 'Ursula, it'swonderful!' I said, 'What's wonderful?' And John said, 'The dinnerthey're cooking at MacDonalds'. I've never smelled anything like it inall my life. Why don't we cook in our house like they do? Mrs.MacDonald was baking cookies and let me have one right out of theoven. Mmmm, boy was it _good_!'"
Ursula finished, "Now, I ask you, did you ever hear anything sobarbaric--cooking in the house and having all the odors permeate thewhole place?"
"Well, we'll see."
Later when they arrived at the MacDonalds' they were welcomed with aquiet warmth and friendliness that Philon cynically assumed to be anew and different front.
As they sat down to dinner Mrs. MacDonald, a rosy-cheeked woman witha quick and ready smile, said, "I'm sorry we aren't able to get aconnection yet. So everything we're eating tonight is right out of ourdeep-freeze."
John Miller said, "Gosh, Mrs. MacDonald, as far as I'm concerned, I'drather eat from your deep-freeze anytime than from the FP!"
Bill MacDonald looked across the table at Jean and said, "All right,Jean."
Jean and all the MacDonalds bent their heads and the girl began, "Wethank Thee for our daily bread as by Thy hands...."
As the girl spoke Phil's gaze drifted around to his wife, who liftedher shoulders in mystified amazement. But it was a bigger surprise tosee John's bent head. For the moment John was a part of thisfamily--part of a wholeness tied together by an invisible bond. Theutter strangeness of it shocked Philon into rare clarity of insight.
He saw himself wrapped up in his business with little regard forUrsula or John, letting them exist under his roof without making thema part of his life. Ursula with her succession of gigolos and herpsycho-plays and John withdrawn into his upstairs room with his books.Then he closed his mind again as if the insight were too blinding.
What strange customs these MacDonalds had! Yet he had to admit themeal
looked more appetizing than anything he had ever seen. It gave animpression of sumptuous plenty to see the food for everybody in oneplace instead of individually packaged under glistening thermocel. Andinstead of throwaway dishes they used chinaware that could have comeright out of a museum.
Ursula asked, "What kind of fish is this?"
Bill MacDonald answered with a big grin. "It's Royal Chinook salmonthat I caught in the fish derby on the