chuckled, and read it again, aloud.

"Sir: I beg you to forgive the presumption of my recent attack on
you. Since then you have captured my imagination. I now hold you to be
the noblest savage of them all. Henceforward please consider me, Your
obedient servant, Hat Rat."

"You've impressed him," said Sylvie. "But you impress me even more.
Come here."

She held out slim arms to him. He had no wish to refuse her. She was
not like a Martian woman, but he found the differences exciting and
attractive. He went to her, and he forgot entirely that she was over a
hundred years old.

* * * * *

In the months that followed, Gavir's fame spread over Earth. By
spring, the rating computers credited him with an audience of eight
hundred million--ninety-five percent of whom were Century-Plussers.
Davery doubled Gavir's salary.

Gavir toured the world with Sylvie, mobbed everywhere by worshipful
Century-Plussers. Male Century-Plussers by the millions adopted blue
doublets and blue kilts in honor of their hero.

Blue-dyed hair was now _de rigueur_ among the ladies of Lucifer
Grotto. The Hat Rat himself, who often appeared at a respectful
distance in crowds around Gavir, now wore a wide-brimmed hat of
brightest blue.

Then there came the dreamcast on which Gavir sang the _Song of
Complaint_.

It was an ancient song, a Desert Man's outcry against injustice,
enemies, false friends and callous leaders. It was a protest against
sufferings that could neither be borne nor prevented. At the climax of
the song Gavir pictured a tribal chief who refused to make fair
division of the spoils of a hunt with his warriors. Gradually he
allowed this image to turn into a picture of Hoppy Davery withholding
bundles of money from a starving Gavir. Then he ended the song.

Hoppy sent for him next morning.

"Why did you do that?" he said. "Listen to this."

A recorded voice boomed: "This is Hat Rat. Pay the Blue Boy what he
deserves, or I will give you death. It will be a personal thing
between you and me. I will besprinkle you with corrosive acids; I will
burn out your eyes; I will--"

Hoppy cut the voice off. Gavir saw that he was sweating. "There were
_dozens_ like that. If you want more money, I'll _give_ you more
money. Say something nice about me on your next dreamcast, for
heaven's sake!"

Gavir spread his big blue hands. "I am sorry. I don't want more money.
I cannot always control the pictures I make