President Conklin glanced at the Secretary, who nodded.
"I guess you know their mental properties," said Otto.
"Sort of monomaniacs. They're counterfeit humans, of course, but limited counterfeits. The configuration projected for any given actor is solely of the elements in that person which are involved in the part being played. Part of the neural patterns synapses, so on—only a part, but complete circuits—are projected.
"This part is enough to allow a certain freedom of development, acquisition of new ideas, individuality. Basically a projection is a replica of the person being projected. Pixie, for instance, has never strip-teased on one of the shows...."
"I should hope not!" snuffed the Secretary.
"... but the projection Pixie does what the real Pixie has implicit in her nature. Our friend the armadillo, being only a cartoon, is different. About all he can do is repeat commercials.
"Physically, the projections eat no food. They are not quite solid—one couldn't pick up a coin or a hammer, but could handle a ping-pong ball or a fluff of cotton.
"They are somewhat plastic and slip through restricted openings. I saw one walk through a screen door, and I'm told they can get through keyholes. They can be temporarily broken up by physical means, but come right back together."
"I know how to lick 'em!" shouted Archy. "Chop 'em up fine and disperse the pieces."
"The sheriff of Pickle, W.Va., tried that," said Otto. "Ran a bunch of clown projections through a fine chopper. They reconstituted into one gigantic clown currently scaring hell out of half the state."