"In that case there has been a definite discontinuity of the life-process," Carteret said. "I may be wrong, but I can't see how the Vatican could give such a technique its approval." "Ever?" Carteret smiled. "Jim, it's a verity that the Church is founded on a Rock, but that doesn't mean our heads are made of stone. No organization lasts two thousand years without being susceptible to change. If in the course of time we're shown that a reanimation technique restores both body _and_ soul, no doubt we'll give it approval. At present, though, I can foresee only one outcome." Harker knotted his fingers together tensely. The priest's response had not been a surprise to him, but he had hoped for some wild loophole. If any loophole existed, Carteret would have found it. Quietly he said, "All right, Father. I'll put my cards on the table now. Such a process _has_ been invented. I've seen it work. I've been retained as legal adviser for the group that developed it, and I'm shopping around for religious and secular opinions before I let them spring the news on the public." "You want my secular opinion, Jim, now that you've had the religious one?" "Of course." "Drop it. Get out of this thing as fast as you can. You're asking for trouble." "I know that. But I can only see this process as a force for good--for minimizing tragedy in everyday life." "Naturally. And I could offer you six arguments showing how it'll _increase_ suffering. Is it a complex technique requiring skilled operators?" "Yes, but--" "In that case it won't be available to everybody right away. Are _you_ going to decide who lives and who stays dead? Suppose you're faced with the choice between a good and virtuous nobody or an evil but talented creative artist." "I know. _The Doctor's Dilemma_. I don't have any slick answers to that, Father. But I still don't think it's any reason to suppress this thing." "Maybe not. On a purely secular level, though, I tell you it's sheer dynamite. Not to mention the opposition you're bound to get from religious groups. Jim, listen to me: you had a wonderful career once. You wrecked it. But now you're continuing your headstrong ways right to the point of self-destruction." "Which is frowned upon by your Church," Harker snapped, irritated. "But--" "I'm not talking about my Church!" Carteret thundered. "I'm talking about you, your family, the rest of your life. You're getting into very deep waters." "I'll shoulder the responsibility myself." "I wish you could," the priest murmured. "I wish any of us could. But we can't ever do that, of course." He shrugged, "Go in peace, Jim. Any time you want to talk to me, just pick up the phone and call. I guarantee no proselytizing." "Of course everything we've just said is confidential, you understand." Carteret nodded. He lifted his arms, shaking the sleeves of his cassock back. "Observe. No concealed tape-recorders under my garments. No telespies in the wall."