A moment later the pillory holding Castlebottom was carted away to the local courthouse, the entire population of Uva following it. The stocks, holding Bill and Kitty were released, freeing them. "That's nice," said Bill as he rubbed his neck and dropped to the ground beside Kitty and the Commissioner. "But what's going to happen to Castlebottom?" Webster shook his head forlornly. "Oh, by the time they get him to the court and ready for trial they'll have forgotten the charges again. The Uvans are terribly absent-minded about little things like that. They'll bring him back to the market and put him in the stocks again. It's the stock punishment. But now, let's get along and find you an office." "An office?" Kitty Carlton interrupted. Webster took her arm in colonial gentleman fashion and began walking. "Yes, my dear," he said. "You'll both need an office. Everyone needs a place to think in. An office is best. You understand, Uva's principal industry is thinking. If you're to be here for any length of time you'll need an office." Webster halted, let his eyes scan the oddly shaped buildings bordering the market-place, then he set off toward an empty stall in a nearby building. As he entered, followed by Bill and Kitty, he waved his hand elegantly. "This should do. Everything you'll need: umbrella stand, chairs and a do-not-disturb sign ... ah.... What's your name?" "Petrie, Fuel Monopoly," said Bill. Webster took a scrap of chalk from his pocket and scrawled a hasty, uneven sign on the amber sidewalk before the little office. PETRIE OFFICE FUEL MONOPOLY "Now, let's go in," continued Webster. He hung out the do-not-disturb sign and pulled all the shades so that nothing could be seen of the street. Then, with exaggerated caution resulting only from life in a prohibition era, he brought forth a personal flask and three folding cups. "Got to be careful here," he added. "The Uvans are made mostly of resin. It's soluble in alcohol." "Hah, so that's why the door buzzer on your residence gave me such a jump," Bill laughed. "Resin is a non-conductor of electricity. They don't need any insulation here, eh?" "They're awfully absent-minded," smiled Kitty. "Has that anything to do with their brightness?" Webster sipped his brandy slowly and discreetly. "You don't know about the segmentation?" he asked. "No," replied Kitty. "All that we know about Uva is what we're supposed to know. In fact, the outside world has the general impression that the Uvan _brain-register_ is just one big puddle of brains. You push a button and out comes an answer." "Ah, such a sadness. Such misconception," Webster murmured. "What about the segmentation?" asked Bill. * * * * *