rt ... getting to the bottom
of this situation."

"You ... traitor, Lewis!" husked Polly.

"I'm inclined to agree with you, Madame," said Spencer. "Only from a
different point of view." He glanced at Stetson. "Any word yet on
Scottie Bullone?"

"They were going to call me the minute they found him," said Stetson.
His voice sounded cautious, brooding.

"You were coming to the party here tonight, weren't you, admiral?" asked
Orne.

"What's that have to do with anything?" demanded Spencer.

"Are you prepared to jail your wife and daughters for conspiracy?" asked
Orne.

A tight smile played around Polly's lips.

Spencer opened his mouth, closed it soundlessly.

"The Nathians are mostly women," said Orne. "There's evidence that your
womenfolk are among them."

The admiral looked like a man who had been kicked in the stomach. "What
... evidence?" he whispered.

"I'll come to that in a moment," said Orne. "Now, note this: the
Nathians are mostly women. There were only a few _accidents_ and a few
planned males, like me. That's why there were no family names to
trace--just a tight little female society, all working to positions of
power through their men."

Spencer cleared his throat, swallowed. He seemed powerless to take his
attention from Orne's mouth.

"My guess," said Orne, "is that about thirty or forty years ago, the
conspirators first began breeding a few males, grooming them for really
choice top positions. Other Nathian males--the accidents where
sex-control failed--they never learned about the conspiracy. These new
ones were full-fledged members. That's what I'd have been if I'd panned
out as expected."

Polly glared at him, looked back at her hands.

"That part of the plan was scheduled to come to a head with this
election," said Orne. "If they pulled this one off, they could move in
more boldly."

"You're in way over your head, boy," growled Polly. "You're too late to
do anything about us!"

"We'll see about that!" barked Spencer. He seemed to have regained his
self-control. "A little publicity in the right places ... some key
arrests and--"

"No," said Orne. "She's right. It's too late for that. It was probably
too late a hundred years ago. These dames were too firmly entrenched
even then."

* * * * *

Stetson straightened away from the wall, smiled grimly at Orne. He
seemed to be understanding a point that the others were missing. Diana
still glared at O