Stranger in a Strange Land

Jubal shook his head. “Your behavior was momentarily prudish, but not from prudish motivations. You are not a prude, Ben. A prude is a person who thinks that his own rules of propriety are natural laws. You are almost entirely free of this prevalent evil. You adjusted, at least with passable urbanity, to many things which did not fit your code of propriety whereas a true-blue, stiff-necked, incorrigible prude would promptly have affronted that delightful tattooed lady and stomped out. Dig deeper.. Do you wish a hint?”

“Uh, maybe you’d better. All I know is that I am mixed up and unhappy about the whole situation—on Mike’s account, too, Jubal!—which is why I took a day off to see you.”

“Very well. Hypothetical situation for you to evaluate: You mentioned a lady named Ruth whom you met in passing—a kiss of brotherhood and a few minutes conversation—nothing more.”

“Yeah?”

“Suppose the actors had been Ruth and Mike? Gillian not even present? Would you have been shocked?”

“Huh? Hell, yes, I would have been shocked!”

“Just how shocked? Retching? Panic flight?”

Caxton looked thoughtful, then sheepish. “I suppose not. I still would have been startled silly. But I guess I would’ve just gone out to the kitchen or something… then found an excuse to leave. I still feel like a fool for having made that mad dash to get out.”

“Would you actually have sought an excuse to leave? Or were you looking forward to your own ‘welcome home’ party that night?”

“Well,” Caxton mused. “I hadn’t made up my mind about that when this happened. I was curious, I admit—but I wasn’t quite sold.”

“Very well. You now have your motivation.”

“Do I?”

“You name it, Ben. Haul it out and look at it—and find out how you want to deal with it.”

Caxton chewed his lip and looked unhappy. “All right. I would have been startled if it had been Ruth—but I wouldn’t really have been shocked. Hell, in the newspaper racket you get over being shocked by anything but—well, you expressed it: something that cuts deep about right and wrong. Shucks, if it had been Ruth, I might even have sneaked a look—even though I still think I would have left the room; such things ought to be—or at least I feel that they ought to be—private.” He paused. “It was because it was Jill. I was hurt… and jealous.”

“Stout fellow, Ben.”

“Jubal, I would have sworn that I wasn’t jealous. I knew that I had lost out—I had accepted it. It was the circumstances, Jubal. Now don’t get me wrong. I would still love Jill if she were a two-peso whore. Which she is not. This hands-around harem deal upsets the hell out of me. But by her lights Jill is moral.”

Jubal nodded. “I know. I feel sure that Gillian is incapable of being corrupted. She has an invincible innocence which makes it impossible for her to be immoral.” He frowned. “Ben, we are close to the root of your trouble. I am afraid that you—and I, too, I admit—lack the angelic innocence to abide by the perfect morality those people live by.”

Ben looked surprised. “Jubal, you think what they are doing is moral? Monkeys in the zoo stuff and all? All I meant was that Jill really didn’t know that what she was doing was wrong—Mike’s got her hornswoggled—and Mike doesn’t know he’s doing wrong either. He’s the Man front Mars; he didn’t get off to a fair start. Everything about us was strange to him—he’ll probably never get straightened out.”

Jubal looked troubled. “You’ve raised a hard question, Ben—but I’ll give you a straight answer. Yes, I think what those people—the entire Nest, not just our own kids—are doing is moral. As you described it to me yes. I haven’t had a chance to examine details—but yes: all of it. Group orgies, and open and unashamed swapping off at other times… their communal living and their anarchistic code, everything. And most especially their selfless dedication to giving their perfect morality to others.”

“Jubal, you utterly astonish me.” Caxton scratched his head and frowned. “Since you feel that way, why don’t you join them? You’re welcome, they want you, they’re expecting you. They’ll hold a jubilee—and Dawn is waiting to kiss your feet and serve you in any way you will permit; I wasn’t exaggerating.”

Jubal shook his head. “No. Had I been approached fifty years ago—But now? Ben my brother, the potential for such innocence is no longer in me—and I am not referring to sexual potency, so wipe that cynical smile off your face. I mean that I have been too long wedded to my own brand of evil and hopelessness to be cleansed in their water of life and become innocent again. If I ever was.”

“Mike thinks you have this innocence—he doesn’t call it that—in full measure now. Dawn told me, speaking ex officio.”

“Then Mike does me great honor; I would not disillusion him. He sees his own reflection—I am, by profession a mirror.”

“Jubal, you’re chicken.”