"Which," said Bordman, "turns out to be no good at all. They'd be some good if they weren't needed, really. But the conditions that make them necessary make them useless!"
Riki shook her head.
"They are useful!" she said. "They're keeping people at home from despairing. Now, though, you've got to think of something else. If you think of enough things, one will do good the way you want, more than just making people feel better."
"What does it matter how people feel?" he demanded bitterly. "What difference do feelings make? One can't change facts!"
Riki said firmly:
"We humans are the only creatures in the universe who don't do anything else. Every other creature accepts facts. It lives where it is born, and it feeds on the food that is there for it, and it dies when the facts of nature require it to. We humans don't. Especially we women! We won't let men do it, either. When we don't like facts—mostly about ourselves—we change them. But important facts we disapprove of—we ask men to change them for us. And they do!"
She faced Bordman. Rather incredibly, she grinned at him.
"Will you please change the facts that look so annoying just now, please? Please?" Then she elaborately pantomimed an over-feminine girl's look of wide-eyed admiration. "You're so big and strong! I just know you can do it—for me!"
She abruptly dropped the pretense and moved toward the door. She half-turned then, and said detachedly:
"But about half of that is true."