"Don't be angry," says Brooks. "They mean it as a compliment. It is,
actually, you know."
Three Moklin girls come in, giggling. They are not bad-looking at
all. They look as human as Deeth, but one of them has a long, droopy
mustache like a mate of the _Palmyra_--that's because they hadn't ever
seen a human woman before Inspector Caldwell come along. They sure have
admired her, though! And Moklin kids get born fast. Very fast.
They show her what they are holding so proud and happy in their arms.
They have got three little Moklin kids, one apiece. And every one of
them has red hair, just like Inspector Caldwell, and every one of them
is a girl that is the spit and image of her. You would swear they are
human babies, and you'd swear they are hers. But of course they ain't.
They make kid noises and wave their little fists.
Inspector Caldwell is just plain paralyzed. She stares at them, and
goes red as fire and white as chalk, and she is speechless. So Brooks
has to do the honors. He admires the kids extravagant, and the Moklin
girls giggle, and take the compliment presents Deeth brings in, and
they go out happy.
When the door closes, Inspector Caldwell wilts.
"Oh-h!" she wails. "It's true! You didn't--you haven't--they can make
their babies look like anybody they want!"
Brooks puts his arms around her and she begins to cry against his
shoulder. He pats her and says, "They've got a queer sort of evolution
on Moklin, darling. Babies here inherit desired characteristics. Not
_acquired_ characteristics, but _desired_ ones! And what could be more
desirable than you?"
I am blinking at them. He says to me, cold, "Will you kindly get the
hell out of here and stay out?"