The smile on Mr. Kemper's face was his best, his friendliest; it had taken him hours of practice in front of mirrors. "_Apes, your fathers were not arrogant when they died screaming on our spears. They were not bold when our hunting cats ripped their bellies._" Aloud he said, "You know, I'm a stranger around here and I thought you might be able to help me. Just what is it that's going on at the lion cage at three o'clock today?" "We ain't heard nothing about no lion's cage, dad. We got our own troubles." "Yeah, our own troubles. Get lost, dad." "It sounded very interesting, something about a big hassle in the cages." The boys lifted their eyebrows and looked sidelong at each other. The blond one said, "I told you to get lost, dad. Take five. You know, depart away from here." Mr. Kemper said, "Well, thanks anyway," and was still smiling as he left them. * * * * * It was hotter when he reached the main enclosure, but still cool by his standards. At a refreshment stand he ordered a hot dog with mustard. As he waited, leaning against the counter, he saw the man in the tweed jacket among a group of people walking toward the elephant yard. He paid for the hot dog, picked it up, and walked along the path, keeping the jacket in sight. The man in tweed went by the elephants, past the giraffes and the zebras, then around the south wing of the building. Up the walk toward the aviary he went, with Kemper not too far behind. At the top of the hill the man stopped in front of the aviary. It was a wide enclosure fenced by bars thirty feet high. In the larger section were the myriad ducks, cranes, gulls and other harmless birds; walled off from these were eagles, vultures, and condors squatting on carved balconies. From the hilltop there was a fine view of the zoo grounds below. The man in the tweed jacket turned, apparently to look down the hill, but instead looked squarely at Mr. Kemper standing a few feet away. Neither of them said anything. The man in tweed seemed embarrassed. Mr. Kemper took a bite of the hot dog and chewed reflectively. After a while he said, "I suppose I ought to recognize you, but I don't. Council of Science, no doubt." The man answered stiffly: "Ulbasar, of the First Science Council. Lord Kjem, you are under arrest." "You'd better use words; it's less liable to make anyone suspicious. You might have dressed a little more intelligently, too." Ulbasar ran his hand over his jacket lapels. "But it's cold. How do you stand it in that light shirt?" "Very simple; I'm wearing long underwear." "Well, you've obviously been here much longer than I have." "Yes," said Kemper. "I've been here quite a while." They didn't speak again for several minutes. In front of them some girls pressed against the mesh screen that reinforced the bars, eyeing a pompous small duck. "Let's go," said one of the girls. "These birds are too disgusting. I mean, they're so ugly!"