"Here, you can share my rock." Westerburg moved over and Harris sat down gingerly, being careful not to catch his trousers on the sharp edges of the rock. He lit a cigarette and gazed silently down at the water. Beside him, Westerburg had resumed his strange position, leaning back, resting on his hands, staring up with his eyes shut tight. "Nice day," the Doctor said. "Yes." "Do you come here every day?" "Yes." "You like it better out here than inside." "I can't stay inside," Westerburg said. "You can't? How do you mean, 'can't'?" "You would die without _air_, wouldn't you?" the Corporal said. "And you'd die without sunlight?" Westerburg nodded. "Corporal, may I ask you something? Do you plan to do this the rest of your life, sit out in the sun on a flat rock? Nothing else?" Westerburg nodded. "How about your job? You went to school for years to become a Patrolman. You wanted to enter the Patrol very badly. You were given a fine rating and a first-class position. How do you feel, giving all that up? You know, it won't be easy to get back in again. Do you realize that?" "I realize it." "And you're really going to give it all up?" "That's right." * * * * * Harris was silent for a while. At last he put his cigarette out and turned toward the youth. "All right, let's say you give up your job and sit in the sun. Well, what happens, then? Someone else has to do the job instead of you. Isn't that true? The job has to be done, _your_ job has to be done. And if you don't do it someone else has to." "I suppose so." "Westerburg, suppose everyone felt the way you do? Suppose everyone wanted to sit in the sun all day? What would happen? No one would check ships coming from outer space. Bacteria and toxic crystals would enter the system and cause mass death and suffering. Isn't that right?" "If everyone felt the way I do they wouldn't be going into outer space." "But they have to. They have to trade, they have to get minerals and products and new plants." "Why?" "To keep society going." "Why?" "Well--" Harris gestured. "People couldn't live without society." Westerburg said nothing to that. Harris watched him, but the youth did not answer. "Isn't that right?" Harris said. "Perhaps. It's a peculiar business, Doctor. You know, I struggled for years to get through Training. I had to work and pay my own way. Washed dishes, worked in kitchens. Studied at night, learned, crammed, worked on and on. And you know what I think, now?" "What?" "I wish I'd become a plant earlier." Doctor Harris stood up. "Westerburg, when you come inside, will you stop off at my office? I want to give you a few tests, if you don't mind." "The shock box?" Westerburg smiled. "I knew that would be coming around. Sure, I don't mind." Nettled, Harris left the rock, walking back up the bank a short distance. "About three, Corporal?" The Corporal nodded.