He used his master wristband to open the door there, and found a woman standing in the middle of the room, wrapped in a sheet. He knew that this must be Helen Walden. It was odd how ill-fitting Clara Manz's softly sensual makeup seemed, even to a stranger, on the more rigidly composed face before him. He guessed that Helen would wear color higher on her cheeks and the mouth would be done in severe lines. Certainly the present haughty face struggled with its incongruous makeup as well as the indignity of her dress. She pulled the sheet tighter about her and said icily, "I will not wear that woman's clothes." Major Grey introduced himself and asked, "Where is Bill Walden?" "He shifted! He left me with.... Oh, I'm so ashamed!" Major Grey shared her loathing. There was no way to escape the conditioning of childhood--sex relations between hyperalter and hypoalter were more than outlawed, they were in themselves disgusting. If they were allowed, they could destroy this civilization. Those idealists--they were almost all hypoalters, of course--who wanted the old terminology changed didn't take that into account. Next thing they'd want children to live with their actual parents! Major Grey stepped into the bedroom. Through the bathroom door beyond, he could see Conrad Manz changing his makeup. Conrad turned and eyed him bluntly. "Would you mind staying out of here till I'm finished? I've had about all I can take." Major Grey shut the door and returned to Helen Walden. He took a hypothalamic block from his own pharmacase and handed it to her. "Here, you're probably on very low drug levels. You'd better take this." He poured her a glass of pop from a decanter and, while they waited for Conrad, he dialed the nearest shifting station on the visiophone and ordered up an emergency shifting costume for her. When at last they were both dressed, made up to their satisfaction and drugged to his satisfaction, he had them sit on a couch together across from him. They sat at opposite ends of it, stiff with resentment at each other's presence. Major Grey said calmly, "You realize that this matter is coming to a Medicorps trial. It will be serious." Major Grey watched their faces. On hers he saw grim determination. On Conrad's face he saw the heavy movement of alarm. The man loved his wife. That was going to help. "It is necessary in a case such as this for the Medicorps to weigh your decisions along with the scientific evidence we will accumulate. Unfortunately, the number of laymen directly involved in this case--and not on trial--is only two, due to your peculiar marriage. If the hypoalters, Clara and Conrad, were married to other partners, we might call on as many as six involved persons and obtain a more equitable lay judgment. As it stands, the entire responsibility rests on the two of you."