. But first, I am reminded of a little story I picked
up on Earth, and in the hopes that some of you here might not have heard
it, I--"

"We've heard it," Hera said, "and, anyhow, this is neither the time nor
the place."

Zeus turned to look at her. He shrugged. "Very well," he said equably.
"Let us return to William Forrester, as a possible substitute for
Dionysus. The first consideration ought to be the psychological records,
wouldn't you say?"

"I would," Hera said through her teeth.

"I believe Athena is in charge of that department, and if she is ready
to report--"

"Of course she's ready," Hera said, "dear."

Zeus nodded. "Well, then, what are we waiting for?"

Athena got up and faced the company. "In general," she began at once, "I
think we can pass the candidate completely on the psychological records.
The Index of Subordination is low, but we don't want one too high for
this post. Too, the Beta curve shows a good deal of variation, a
Dionysian characteristic. There is, perhaps, a stronger sense of
responsibility than is recorded in the Dionysian index, but this may not
be a handicap."

"By no means," Hera said. "Responsibility is something we could all do
with more of, around here." She shot a poisonous glance at Morpheus,
whose eyes were now completely closed.

Forrester, busily wondering what his Beta curve was, and why it varied,
and what he would do if he lost it and had to get another one, missed
the next few words of Athena's report. The word that did impinge on his
consciousness did so with a shock.

"Sex," Athena said. "But, after all, that is not quite in my
department." She looked as if she were very glad of the fact. "In
general, as I say, the psychological tests present no insuperable
barriers."

"Fine," Hera said. She dug Zeus in the ribs again.

"Oh," Zeus said. "Yes. Fine."

"Next," Hera said.

"Yes," Zeus said. "By all means. Next."

Mars got up. He was now scratching the hair on his chest. He looked
around at the others with a definitely unfriendly expression.

"The physical department is mine," he said. "The candidate can handle
himself, all right. There isn't much doubt of it." He burped, wiped his
mouth with the back of one hand, and went on: "Of course, he's let
himself run to fat a little here and there, but it isn't really serious.
Mainly a matter of glandular balance or something like that, as far as I
understand Hermes' report."

Forrester began to feel like a pr