sed him. The boy was a true Pelton; only needed one
bite to distinguish between real and synthetic food.

"Bet this breakfast didn't cost a dollar under five C," Ray continued,
a little more audibly, between bites.

[Illustration:]

That was another Pelton trait; even at fifteen, the boy was learning
the value of money. Claire seemed to disapprove, however.

"Oh, Ray; try not to always think of what things cost," she reproved.

"If I had all she spends on natural food, I could have a this-season's
model 'copter-bike, like Jimmy Hartnett," Ray continued.

Pelton frowned. "I don't want you running around with that boy, Ray,"
he said, his mouth full of bacon and eggs. Under his daughter's look
of disapproval, he swallowed hastily, then continued: "He's not the
sort of company I want my son keeping."

"But, Senator," Ray protested. "He lives next door to us. Why, we can
see Hartnett's aerial from the top of our landing stage!"

"That doesn't matter," he said, in a tone meant to indicate that the
subject was not to be debated. "He's a Literate!"

"More eggs, Senator?" Claire asked, extending the platter and
gesturing with the serving knife.

He chuckled inwardly. Claire always knew what to do when his temper
started climbing to critical mass. He allowed her to load his plate
again.

"And speaking of our landing stage, have you been up there, this
morning, Ray?" he asked.

They both looked at him inquiringly.

"Delivered last evening, while you two were out," he explained. "New
winter model Rolls-Cadipac." He felt a glow of paternal pleasure as
Claire gave a yelp of delight and aimed a glancing kiss at the top of
his bald head. Ray dropped his fork, slid from his seat, and bolted
for the lift, even bacon, eggs, and real bee-comb honey forgotten.

With elaborate absent-mindedness, Chester Pelton reached for the
switch to turn on the video screen over the pantry door.

"Oh-oh! Oh-oh!" Claire's slender hand went out to stop his own. "Not
till coffee and cigarettes, Senator."

"It's almost oh-eight-fifteen; I want the newscast."

"Can't you just relax for a while? Honestly, Senator, you're killing
yourself."

"Oh, rubbish! I've been working a little hard, but--"

"You've been working too hard. And today, with the sale at the store,
and the last day of the campaign--"

"Why the devil did that idiot of a Latterman have the sale advertised
for today, anyhow?" he fumed. "Doesn't he know I'm running for the
S