Consolator Steen smiled. "One of the Guardians, Joe. Superb--and completely incorruptible. Within minutes after we leave, every vestige of our visit will be gone--each piece of gravel we tread on will be scrubbed clean or replaced, each piece of grass we touch uprooted and destroyed, even the very air we breathe will be sterilized to remove our traces. We have our problem of vandals too, you know," Steen said, a wisp of a smile playing about the corners of his mouth. "But these are vandals who want to get in and leave something, not like those of ancient times on Earth who broke into burial grounds to loot and destroy. Yes, Joe, we found long ago that the only safe method was to employ mechanical devices to guard against clandestine burials. So even the gardeners who keep this Park in blossom are mechanical. See, there's another one over there, hard at work." Joseph Krieg turned and saw to one side, by a large bed of red flowers, another robot with dozens of visible appendages. It purred an almost silent tune as it clipped and pruned, dug and spaded, trimmed and cleaned the beds, occasionally sprinkling a rich fertilizer dust here and there. "The Guardians of Valhalla, Joe. They were set into motion centuries ago, and not even the President knows how to change their orders. They can't be bribed, even if their human masters can be." Joseph Krieg stooped down beside the bed of flowers. He reached out and picked up a handful of the fine dirt and let it slip pensively through his fingers. "Dust unto dust," he said slowly. "Man was created from the soil of Earth, and to dust he returneth." There was a long silence as Steen let the emotion run its course. Then he touched Krieg lightly on the arm and the man stood up again. They started off down the path, ignoring the machine that skittered along behind them, cleansing each bit of gravel they stepped upon. To Steen, this was always the most important part of the interview. While the fish was masticating the bait, he had to prattle on to keep the hook from becoming too visible. "Some day I must tell you of all the ways people have tried to get themselves buried on Earth without paying for the privilege, Joe. It makes a fascinating story. We're in a difficult position here, you know, for we have to import every single bit of food we eat, every machine we use, each piece of clothing that we wear. But every single item that we import is carefully scanned to make sure that no one has concealed so much as a single human hair in the process." Steen watched Krieg's face closely as they walked. The man should be going through hell just now, but not too much of it showed on his face. Steen continued his prattle, a little puzzled.