Naito smiled and shook his head. "You are still in the grip of time, Mr. Blair. Spend some with us and you will slip a little from its tyranny."
"You're very kind, Mr. Naito. But—well, you have your world and I have mine. Time's important in mine. If you could just show me some of these tricks you do—"
"Ah, tricks! Tricks!" Naito still smiled, but Blair felt the anger radiate from him, like heat. "You want to see our tricks, then?"
"Well, that's what I came here for—"
"I told Mr. Murdock," said Naito, drawing his robe more closely about him, "to send a man who would understand. Someone who was not all western ... who had a little of the oriental viewpoint."
Blair laughed. "Murdock would think that about me. Because I show a little interest in things oriental—because I don't think a deep freeze or an eight cylinder juke box on wheels is the greatest thing in the world. Nevertheless, Mr. Naito, I come from a middle-class American background, and my viewpoint is still pretty western. Nor am I one of these odd intellectual types who seem to be ashamed of it."
"There is hope," said Naito. "I am glad you came."
Blair took folded copy paper and a pencil from his pocket. "But shall we get down to business now? First, let me get your full name, and where you come from, and all that. Then the exact name of your sect here, or whatever it is."
Naito seemed amused.
Yuki stood by with great poise. Blair glanced at her and thought yes, flower. When she stands she grows quietly, like a flower.