Ray showed signs of wanting to get down and join the caucus; he loves parliamentary procedure better than life itself; so I said hastily, "Let's get down with the crowd, Ray. We can't see much better up here, anyway."
He stiffened. "You go if you want to," he said quietly. "I'm staying here, where I can keep an eye on things."
The chandelier was now describing stately circles, causing a good deal of ducking and confusion, but the meeting was getting on with its business, namely, arguing about whether to confirm Kosmo by acclamation or nominate and elect a chairman in the usual way. That subject, I figured, was good for at least twenty minutes. I said, "Ray, will you tell me the truth if I ask you something?"
"Maybe." He grinned.
"Are you doing this?"
He threw his head back and chuckled, "No-o, I'm not doing it." He looked at me shrewdly, still grinning. "Is that why you were looking for me?"
I admitted it humbly. "It was just a foolish idea," I said. "Nobody we know could possibly—"
"I don't know about that," he said, squinting thoughtfully.
"Ah, come on, Ray."
He was affronted. "Why not? We've got some pretty good scientific brains in Medusa, you know. There's Gamble—he's an atomic physicist. There's Don Bierce; there's Duchamp; there's—"