"You see, Dave," she said, "I'm still the most important person on this
planet. I can have almost anything happen, just by the decision I make."
"What is your decision?" asked Clive.
She looked at me, then at Clive. "You started out playing politics,"
she said, "and it all comes back to the same old thing. Man and woman.
Maybe that's politics, because nations are based on the family. But
we have proved one thing anyhow. Even in a civilization of only three
people, each one has his moments of supremacy. And there must always be
compromise, or bloodshed. If we stay, the compromise must be polyandry.
I must accept both of you as mates. If we go, one of you must be
compensated for losing me. Supposing one takes all the gold we can
carry away, the other takes me?"
"If Clive will take the gold," I said.
"If Dave will take the gold," said Clive.
"See?" she smiled. "Gold isn't the most important thing in the world.
I'm much more valuable than all the gold you can ever use."
"There must be other women in the galaxy that Dave can console himself
with," Clive said. "That gold would certainly help him find her."
"I was just about to suggest the same thing, pertaining to you," I
said. "But as far as I'm concerned, Rosemary is my choice. She doesn't
care whether I'm wealthy or not."
"There must be a solution to this problem," Clive said.
"There is," said Rosemary.
Clive rose to his feet and I did too. Rosemary didn't seem to expect
this and she was late getting up.
"In politics," said Clive, "it is known as the coup d'etat."
He swung and I swung. Then we both swung while Rosemary screamed.
Suddenly everything got black.
When I woke up, I thought I had underestimated Clive, but I saw him
sleeping peacefully and I also observed he had a lump on his head, like
I had. Rosemary was sitting on a chunk of marble watching us, holding a
small stout club in her hand.
"As soon as you feel strong enough," she said, "you can start loading
gold onto my spaceship. It's over in the next valley. We're all going
back to civilization. The wars there are more impersonal."
"You've made your choice?" I asked.
"I have," she said, "but to avoid bloodshed, I'll not reveal it till we
get home--unless one of you figures it out."
"What happens then?"
"The loser gets locked up or placed under guard. I don't think,
if you're the loser you'd do anything silly, like cracking up the
spaceship. After all, there'll be a fortune in gold and consolation
with another girl. I'm sure there is another girl in the universe."
At the time, though I didn't think there was.
* * * * *
When we landed on Earth, we divided the spoils three ways because
Rosemary decided not to take either of us.
"Neither of you asked me to choose between you," she said, "and that
was the way to decide. You should have said: 'Take one of us and
the other will abide by your decision.' That is what is known as
compromise, even if it doesn't seem that way. The trouble with men is
that few of them can lose gracefully. They've got to start a war rather
than a compromise."
"But losing isn't compromising," I pointed out. "If you give up
something and gain something, that's a compromise."
"How do you know you haven't gained by losing me," she said.
I often wonder which of us she preferred back on Problem Planet. But
considering the fact that we were probably the first men she got to
know after her father died, I think she made a wise choice. Clive
married a woman lawyer, and I married a chorus girl.
Rosemary? She married a wrestler that could throw her.