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  Mollie said, “And he was just getting set to try out his nasty tricks again; I knew he was up to no good soon as I saw him.” She turned a look at Jean. “Whether you’re my girl or not, I didn’t want no nasty Cholwell fooling with you, I knew that was what he was countin’ on, so I got ol‘ Pop to run me up in his float, and it’s a good thing too, I see now; I come just in time.”

  “Yes,” said Jean. “I’m glad you came.” She released a deep breath. “I’m glad you came.”

  Cholwell was gathering his wits, arranging his dignity around him like a tattered garment. He seated himself at his desk, moved some papers back and forth with trembling fingers. “You’ve—you’ve got no right intruding in here,” he said in feeble indignation.

  Mollie made a contemptuous blowing sound. “I go where I please,,and don’t give me no lip, or I’ll use this broom on you again, which I got half a mind to anyway, thinking of how you kept me out here after my time, and all for your nasty experiments.”

  Cholwell turned venomously on Svenska. “You let her in, and I’ve kept you here and given you a good home all these years—”

  “Yah! And working my fingers to the bone, keeping you and them girls up; it’s been no bed of roses…And now we do different. You work for me now.”

  “You’re a crazy woman,” snapped Cholwell. “Now get out—both of you, before I call the police.” He reached out to the telescreen.

  “Here now!” barked Mollie. “Careful there, Cholwell!” She flourished the broom. “Now I’ll tell you what I want; you’ve brought misery on me, and I want damages. Yes, sir,” she nodded placidly, “damages. And if I don’t get them, I’m gonna take ‘em out of your hide with this broom.”

  “Ridiculous,” said Cholwell weakly.

  “Ill show you what’s ridiculous. I want my rights.”

  Jean said archly, “I think this old place would make a good chicken ranch. Cholwell thinks so too. You could put chickens in here and Cholwell could work for you…Cholwell told me there’d be money in it.”

  Svenska looked at Mollie skeptically. Mollie said to Cholwell, “Is that right? What she said?”

  Cholwell moved uneasily in his seat. “Too cold and windy for chickens.”

  “Pah,” said Svenska. “Nice and warm. Right in the sun pocket.”

  “That’s what Cholwell told me,” said Jean.

  Cholwell turned a passionate face at her. “Shut up! You’ve brought me the devil’s own luck.”

  Jean rose to her feet. “If I can run that old air-wagon, Tm leaving.” She nodded to Mollie. “Thanks for coming out after me. I wish you luck with your chicken-ranch idea.”

  She stepped out into the corridor, leaving heavy silence behind her.

  She hesitated a moment, then turned down the corridor toward the library. She felt light, energetic, and ran most of the way. At the doorway she hesitated again.

  “Oh hell,” said Jean. “After all—they’re me.”

  She flung open the door.

  Six girls turned, looked at her curiously. “Well? What did old Cholwell want?”

  Jean looked around from face to face with the smile that showed her sharp little teeth.

  “Old Cholwell is going into the chicken business with Svenska.” She laughed. “Silly old rooster.”

  There was silence in the room, a kind of breathlessness.

  “Now,” said Jean, “we’re all leaving. First thing is Cherry. She’s in trouble. She let Cholwell make a cat’s-paw out of her, now she’s in trouble. That’s a good lesson. Never be somebody’s cat’s-paw against your sister. But we won’t be vindictive. We’ll all march into the courthouse.” She laughed. “It’ll be fun…After that-well go back to Earth. I’ve got lots of money. I had to work like hell for it—but I guess there’s no reason for me to be a pig.” She looked around the circle of faces. It was like seeing herself in a multiple mirror. “After all—we’re really the same person. It’s a strange feeling…”

  XIV

  Mycroft’s secretary and receptionist looked up with a sudden tightening of the mouth. “Hello, Ruth,” said Jean. “Is Mr. Mycroft in?”

  Ruth said in a cool voice, “We’d prefer that you call in ahead for an appointment. It gives us a better chance to organize and arrange our work.” She shot Jean a look under her eyelids…Undeniably vital and pretty. But why did Mycroft go to pieces every time he looked at her?

  Jean said, “We just arrived in town this morning. On the Great Winter Star. We haven’t had time to call in.”

  “We?” asked Ruth.

  Jean nodded. “There’s eight of us.” She giggled. “Well send old Mycroft to his grave early.” She looked back into the corridor. “Come on in, group.”

  Ruth slumped back into her chair. Jean smiled sympathetically, crossed the room, opened the door into Mycroft’s office. “Hello, Mr. Mycroft.”

  “Jean!” said Mycroft. “You’re back…Did you—” his voice faltered. “Which one is Jean? I don’t seem able to—”

  “I’m Jean,” she said cheerfully. “You’ll get used to us. If there’s ever any confusion, look at our wrists. We’re all stencilled.”

  “But-”

  “They’re my sisters. You’re guardian to octuplets.”

  “I’m—astounded,” breathed Mycroft, “to put it mildly…It’s miraculous…Am I to understand that you found your parents?”

  “Well—yes and no. Mostly no. To tell you the truth, it more or less slipped my mind in the excitement.”

  Mycroft looked from face to face. “Are you sure it isn’t a trick? Mirrors?”

  “No mirrors,” Jean assured him. “We’re all flesh and blood, very troublesome.”

  “But the resemblance!”

  Jean sighed. “It’s a long story. I’m afraid your old friend Cholwell doesn’t appear in a very favorable light.”

  Mycroft smiled faintly. “I’m under no illusions about Cholwell. He was resident physician out at the Codiron Women’s Home when I was director. I know him very well, but I wouldn’t call him a friend…What’s the matter?”

  Jean said tremulously, “You were director at the Rehabilitation Home?”

  “Yes. What of it?”

  “Just a minute. Let me think.”

  A moment later: “And Ruth has been with you a long time…How long?”

  “Almost twenty years…Why?”

  “Was she on Codiron?”

  “Yes…What’s this all about?” Mycroft’s voice became sharper. “What’s the mystery?”

  Jean said, “No mystery. No mystery at all.”

  She turned, looked around the room into the faces of her sisters. All eight burst into laughter.

  In the reception room Ruth bent savagely over her work. Poor Mycroft.

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