"Well, now, that was the _effect_, but I can't swear it was the alcohol. Not unless Fweep can use the stuff on the molecular level if he wants. On the other hand, maybe it was the minerals in there that affected him. Little world like Fweepland, maybe it lacked a few things when it was made. But the way I looked at it, it stood to reason the little fellow could use a drink. Alone all these centuries, he must've got pretty dry. But whatever it was, he sure got high. Lost all control." "Poor Fweep," Reba murmured. "Poor nothing," Grampa said. "He was the happiest little critter I ever saw. When Four explained to him just what we wanted, he went right to work on that bottle and--" Gramp's door swung open once more. "Grampa! Grampa!" Four shouted. "Fweep! He--I mean--well, we've been calling him by the wrong pronoun. Look!" Four came running out of the room. Behind him rolled a tiny raspberry sphere about the size of a marble. Occasionally it hopped in the air and said, "Fweep?" in a small, high voice. Behind it rolled and hopped a second raspberry marble. "Fweep?" it said. Behind it came another and another until the cabin was full of them, rolling, bouncing, calling "Fweep?" * * * * * Dazedly, Junior counted them. "One hundred and one, one hundred and two, one hundred and--" "Oh, Junior," Reba said, hugging him excitedly. "Aren't they cute?" "What happened?" Grampa asked, as dazed as Junior. "Maybe it was the tonic," Four said, "but I suspect it was the the unpolarized gravity. All of a sudden, Fweep started splitting like an amoeba, over and over. Do you suppose that was what made him nervous?" "That's the way the little fellow reproduces, all right," said Grampa. "I wonder if he has to wait until a race becomes civilized enough to discover the polarizer, eh?" "Ugh!" gasped Joyce, brushing a Fweep out of her lap. Grampa looked at the cabin and its occupants happily. "I'd like to remind you," Fred said gravely, "that this multiplies our problem of what to do with Fweep over one hundred times." "What problem?" asked Grampa. "The only problem we got is how we're gonna spend the cash. We're in business--the gravity business. We'll call it Gravity, Incorporated, and we can reclaim every little hunk of rock in the Solar System. Each one of those little fellows is worth a fortune! We'll give the satellites and the asteroids Earth-normal gravities and atmospheres and, by golly, we're rich!" "Rich?" Joyce echoed. A smile slowly replaced the expression of distaste. She snapped her fingers. "Here, Fweepie," she said in her most enticing tone. "Here, little darlings! Come to dear Joyce!" But they had all hopped to Four and were clustered around him like a raspberry bubble bath. Through them, his face peered, thin and happy. Grampa looked at Reba. She was hugging Junior happily and smiling at Four. Grampa looked back at the boy.