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the clearance.
    “One is to nationalize Congress,” Spirit resumed, unconcerned about the interruption. I regrouped my attention; we had been discussing ways to deal with the opposition walkout. “That would put the members under the authority of the government—”
    “But they are the government,” I protested.
    “No, you are the government,” she reminded me.
    “But still, what use is their advice and consent if they are compelled to be there by a government they oppose?”
    She shrugged. “Not much, I suspect. The other alternative is abolition.”
    “What?”
    But again we were interrupted. A Hispanic nurse entered, carrying a little boy. She approached me. "
    ¿Señor Hubris? " she inquired.
    “ Si,” I responded; evidently she did not speak English.
    “Robertico,” she said, holding out the baby boy.
    “Robertico,” I agreed somewhat numbly, taking him.
    She turned smartly and exited, leaving me holding the baby. I was the cynosure of all present. I felt like a fool.
    Robertico contemplated me. He was in doubt and considered crying, but I anticipated him and distracted him with a remark. “I promised to fetch you for your mother, Robertico,” I said. “This will be your new home. Meet your new friends: Spirit, Coral, and Shelia.” Naturally he did not understand the words, for he was too young to talk, and in any event, I was speaking in English, but my tone and the manner in which I held him reassured him. He decided that this place was all right.
    “May I?” Shelia inquired, holding out her hands. With relief I gave Robertico to her. She sat him in her lap, facing him forward. His gaze fixed on the little transceiver screen and his expression became rapt.
    Evidently the moving picture was new and fascinating to him.
    “Abolition,” Spirit repeated, picking up where she had left off. “Simply abolish Congress, since it is no longer representative.”
    “But that would be—”
    “Dictatorial,” she finished. “You have the power and would be foolish not to use it. You gave them a chance and they refused to cooperate. Why not make an example?”
    “But without them who will represent the people?”
    “Do you suppose that very many of those folk represent the people?” she asked dryly.
    Robertico started to cry. Evidently he had seen something on the screen that upset him. “We've got to make better provision for him,” I said.
    “I have seen to it,” Shelia said. “But we are strangers to him. I suspect he has not been in as stimulating an environment as this before.”
    “He needs some sleep,” Spirit said.
    “It will be another half hour before the child-bed arrives,” Shelia said.
    “Give him here,” I said, taking the little boy back.
    “He needs changing,” Shelia said. “But the diapers—”
    “Aren't here yet,” I concluded. So I simply held him and he quieted down.
    I returned to the matter at hand. “To deprive the people of all representation—that was never my intent.”
    “You can appoint people to represent them,” Spirit said.
    “I don't know. I—” I broke off, for my arm was wet. Robertico was dripping. When would those diapers arrive?
    “Sir,” Shelia said. “Call from RedSpot.”
    RedSpot was our neighbor-nation to the south, whose city-bubbles occupied the great Red Spot of Jupiter. They would want to know my policy toward Latin Jupiter, since for the first time a Hispanic had ultimate power in North Jupiter. I could not avoid that call, lest I precipitate a diplomatic incident before I get properly established. “Put it on,” I said wearily.
    The face of the president of RedSpot appeared on the main screen. His eyes widened as he saw me standing with my shirt stained by leaking urine. “ ¡Señor Presidente! ” he exclaimed.
    “We're waiting for diapers,” I muttered in Spanish.
    “Diapers!” he repeated, evidently suppressing a smile. “Surely these are available locally?”
    “ Si,” I agreed tightly.
    The smile struggled to get