"It is our understanding that property held in joint tenancy by two contesting parties in a divorce case may be distributed at the discretion of the court."
"That's correct," I said.
"We contend, therefore, that Jean—" Clare pointed a scaly finger at the small Venerian, "is community property. Vivian's and mine. We wish to make an agreement between us for the disposal of it—"
"Wait a minute," I said, shocked. "I don't think you understand the community property laws at all. Jean is, by definition, a person. A person cannot be considered property or chattel. Oh, no—"
The small Venerian made a face at them. "I told you you couldn't get away with it," she said. "This isn't Venus, you know."
"On Venus you would be property," declared Vivian. And to me, he—she—I still get confused about this—added: "My sex was emancipated thirty ygiths ago at home. But Jean's is still considered—what did you call it?—chattel. No vote. No rights. Nothing but symbiosis."
"And Clare's is still the—uh—dominant one?" I asked hesitantly.
"That's the myth that's perpetrated," Clare declared acidly. "We guths do most of the work, if that means anything."
I wrote on my pad: "Guths—breadwinners."
"And who—well, forgive my indelicacy, but—" I shrugged mundanely, "who bears the children?"