"Leave out the 'friend' pitch. I'm here on business."
Barnes shrugged. "As you wish. We let you in, as you express it, because you have knowledge that we should include in our archives. We hoped you would recognize the merit and scope of out undertaking. Most people do, once they are told."
"Zelda, too?"
"Oh, yes," Barnes said emphatically. "I had that checked by Statistics. She is extremely cooperative, quite convinced—"
"Don't hand me that!"
Barnes rose. Straightening the papers on his desk, he said, "You want to speak to her and see for yourself? Fair enough."
He led Clocker out of the building. They crossed the great square to a vast, low structure that Barnes referred to as the Education and Recreation Center.
"Unless there are special problems," Barnes said, "our human associates work twelve or fourteen of your hours, and the rest of the time is their own. Sleep isn't necessary to the psychic projection, of course, though it is to the body on Earth. And what, Mr. Locke, would you imagine they choose as their main amusements?"
"Pinball machines?" Clocker suggested ironically. "Crap games?"