intense feelings of inferiority such comely persons aroused. It was from
her computer-psychiatry that the answer employed had come: since
everyone cannot be beautiful, let all be ugly.

This slogan had sparked the mass use of unneeded spectacles, the
distortion harnesses, the harmopan makeup. Now, outside of emergencies,
it was as socially unacceptable for a man or woman to reveal a face
uncovered in public as it had been, centuries earlier, for a Moslem
odalisque to appear unveiled in the bazaar.

There were exceptions, of course--aside from those who were naturally
ugly to begin with. Vidar-screen actors and actresses were permitted to
reveal beauty when their parts demanded it--which was usually only in
villains' roles. And among men, professional athletes were expected to
show their faces and bodies _au naturel_ as a mark of their profession.
Among women the professional courtesans--the "models", not the
two-credit whores--displayed their charms on all occasions. Beauty was
bad business for lower-caste prostitutes--it made such clients they
could promote feel too inferior.

These specialists, the models and gladiators, were something of a race
apart, computer-picked in infancy and raised for their professions like
Japanese _sumo_ wrestlers. They were scarcely expected to enter the more
sensitive realms of the arts, business affairs or government.

It was, Lindsay decided, a hell of a state of affairs.

* * * * *

Nina Beckwith, Lindsay's Earth-assigned personal secretary, was leaning
far back in her tilt-chair with her feet on the desk. Her eyes were
squinted behind chartreuse-tinted flat-oval lenses to avoid fumes from a
cigarette stuck in a corner of her wide mouth. She had shut off the
air-conditioner, opened the picture window and pulled the pants of her
coverall far up above her knees to let the warm New Orleans September
air wash over her skin.

Lindsay looked at her legs with surprise--it had not occurred to him
that Nina owned such a long and shapely pair. He whistled softly through
his teeth.

Nina removed her smoke, sighed and made a move to stand up and let her
coverall fall back over the exposed limbs. Lindsay said, "Not on my
account--_please_! Those are the first good looking legs I've seen since
leaving Mars."

"Watch yourself, boss," said Nina and indulged in a slow half-smile.
Then, putting her feet back on the floor, "You certainly lost a lot of
friends and