"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...."