"What can you get outside that you can't get here? There's everything you need here in the city. We can have a great time." "You sound like my Aunt Haicey," Brett said. "She said I had everything I needed back in Casperton. How does she know what I need? How do you know? How do I know myself? I can tell you I need more than food and a place to sleep--" "What more?" "Everything. Things to think about and something worth doing. Why, even in the movies--" "What's a movie?" "You know, a play, on film. A moving picture." "A picture that moves?" "That's right." "This is something the priests told you about?" Dhuva seemed to be holding in his mirth. "Everybody's seen movies." Dhuva burst out laughing. "Those priests," he said. "They're the same everywhere, I see. The stories they tell, and people believe them. What else?" "Priests have nothing to do with it." Dhuva composed his features. "What do they tell you about Grat, and the Wheel?" "Grat? What's that?" "The Over-Being. The Four-eyed One." Dhuva made a sign, caught himself. "Just habit," he said. "I don't believe that rubbish. Never did." "I suppose you're talking about God," Brett said. "I don't know about God. Tell me about it." "He's the creator of the world. He's ... well, superhuman. He knows everything that happens, and when you die, if you've led a good life, you meet God in Heaven." "Where's that?" "It's ..." Brett waved a hand vaguely, "up above." "But you said there was just emptiness up above," Dhuva recalled. "And some other worlds whirling around, like islands adrift in the sea." "Well--" "Never mind," Dhuva held up his hands. "Our priests are liars too. All that balderdash about the Wheel and the River of Fire. It's just as bad as your Hivvel or whatever you called it. And our Grat and your Mud, or Gog: they're the same--" Dhuva's head went up. "What's that?" "I didn't hear anything." * * * Dhuva got to his feet, turned to the door. Brett rose. A towering brown shape, glassy and transparent, hung in the door, its surface rippling. Dhuva whirled, leaped past Brett, dived for the rear door. Brett stood frozen. The shape flowed--swift as quicksilver--caught Dhuva in mid-stride, engulfed him. For an instant Brett saw the thin figure, legs kicking, upended within the muddy form of the Gel. Then the turbid wave swept across to the door, sloshed it aside, disappeared. Dhuva was gone. Brett stood rooted, staring at the doorway. A bar of sunlight fell across the dusty floor. A brown mouse ran along the baseboard. It was very quiet. Brett went to the door through which the Gel had disappeared, hesitated a moment, then thrust it open.