Nuwell Eli sat with Placer Viceroy, director of the Canfell Hydroponic Farm, in its large underground dining room, eating lunch. This meal was not the tasteless, gelatin-like food that was fed to the Jellies and Toughs and sold on the Martian market. It was a meal of thick, juicy steaks from the dome farms around Hesperidum and vegetables from the gardens inside the Mars City dome. "We've been here better than a week, and she's still stubborn," Nuwell said morosely. "Surely she has the intelligence to realize how ridiculous and impractical is her sudden conversion to a lost rebel cause. I'm half convinced that this Kensington fellow put her under some sort of a hypnotic spell." "You've been very gentle in your methods of conversion," said Placer. "It isn't like you, Nuwell. If you want quick results, we could turn her over to the Toughs for a while." "No, I don't want her hurt. I love the woman and intend to marry her. The whippings and humiliations are as far as I'm willing to go." "A peculiar sort of love, if you don't mind my saying so," remarked Placer. Nuwell stared at him coldly. "I do mind your saying so," he said. "My personal emotions are not subject to your interpretation. But Martian wives are expected to obey their husbands with deference and, by Saturn, I'm going to break her of that liberal terrestrial training!" "You'd have the legal right to take the steps necessary for that, if she were married to you," Placer pointed out. "But the little fool refuses to marry me now!" exclaimed Nuwell in exasperation. "If she hadn't refused, do you think I'd have brought her here? But I couldn't take her to one of the cities, except as a prisoner to be tried for sedition and treason, as long as she expresses this violent and open support of the rebel cause. Whether you consider it love or not, I want the woman for myself. I don't want her imprisoned or executed." "Perhaps if she were presented with that alternative, she'd be more reasonable about it," murmured Placer. "Don't you think I've threatened her with it? She just says that she'd rather die or go to prison than go back on her convictions and knuckle under to me. If she could only forget that she'd ever met that man Kensington!" "Well, as for that, it might not be so hard to arrange," suggested Placer quietly. Nuwell stared at him. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You're not familiar with the details of our work here, are you, Nuwell?" "I thought I was, pretty well. But what you just said doesn't strike a chord." "As you know, the Toughs and Jellies are originally criminals and vagabonds you have smuggled to us for experimental purposes. One major effect of our initial glandular experiments with them, which makes them into Toughs and Jellies, is that they lose all memory of their past." "I don't want a flabby woman, like a Jelly!" exclaimed Nuwell with a shudder.