"Sure, you're right, honey. I promise."
e meant it when he said it. But that night, tossing from side to side, he felt less certain. In the morning, as he went out, Marie asked him where he was going.
"I want to observe the preparations for the Preliminary Rites."
"Now that," she grinned, "is what I call healthy thinking."
For a while he did stand around the Central Plaza along with thousands of other idlers, watching the robot dump trucks assemble the piles of discarded equipment. The crowd cheered loudly as an enormous crane was knocked over on its side.
"There's fifty millions worth out there!" a bystander exulted. "It's going to be the biggest Preliminary I've ever seen."
"It certainly will be!" he said, catching a little of the other man's enthusiasm despite his previous doubts.
Preliminary Rites were part of the emotion-stoking that preceded the Highest Holy Day. Each Rite was greater and more destructive than those that had gone before. As tokens of happy loyalty, viewers threw hats and watches and stickpins onto the pile just prior to the entry of the slaggers. What better way could be found for each man to manifest his common humanity?