"Honest and truly. How do we think of death--most of us? We believe in
somehow living on after death takes place--immortality of the soul. Can
you visualize how a stage director who didn't understand that concept
would cast it?"
"What do you think I am, a percie? Get on with it."
"Consider this, then. I gambled with my emotional adjustment
conditioning. There was one angle I hadn't exploited, because of that
conditioning. Sex."
"If you are trying to tell me you unloaded the conditioning _we_ give
you," Spliid interrupted, "I won't believe it!"
"No--I wouldn't. But, in the interest of ethnological investigation, I
_could_ grab a kiss. So I did."
"I see," drily.
"Not yet, you don't. I got no reaction. Like embracing a tree. Anyway,
I kissed her. Somehow...." He hesitated. "Her garment...."
"No wonder you made no report," growled Spliid. "Believe me, Cliff, I'm
going to have that conditioning process looked into!"
Rowley laughed, briefly. "No need for that. It's sound. You'll be
interested in what that slipping garment revealed."
"Another time, another place...."
"I saw a perfect, living statue!"