Yark recoiled. Erg was his masterpiece, and to destroy him would be to acknowledge utter failure. But his very status as a Great Brain was now in jeopardy.
"It will be difficult to reach the real, the actual Erg, submerged as he is beneath his false schizophrenic personalities, but through me it can be accomplished...."
"... We'd better get some clothes on," Martha said bashfully. She could feel her outlines showing again. For the past couple of days it had become increasingly difficult to maintain complete invisibility. She and Gunnar were both beginning to flicker, to appear dimly and then vanish again.
"That's right. I'm beginning to feel the cold again, too." Gunnar was a gentleman and spared her modesty. "Whatever it is, it's wearing off."
The island lay several hours behind them when Martha glanced around once more at Gunnar's apparently empty clothing and the dent the weight of his body made in the rubber boat. She gave a little squeal of surprise this time, for the dent and the clothes were occupied—by Gunnar, solid and in the flesh.
He looked, and saw her, too. For a minute, neither said a word....