I was really getting wound up, but Long broke in on me. "Tell me a little more," he said, "about that one idea, will you? You know, the idea about how you will give up being a producer and will be all consumer?" "I was just coming to that," I said hotly. "Yes, they'll probably enroll my name on the EL subscribers roll with a big cheer, and all my non-EL friends will hear about it and they'll raise their eyebrows, or maybe they'll sign up too. "But the point is this. Is it right for me, a big, strong, healthy human being with powers of perception and reasoning and a capability for work and creativeness--is it right for me to substitute this dream world of EL for actual real thinking, or doing, or creating? Do any of us have the right to subvert our normal impulses for creation and for living in this way?" "A good question," said Long with a sigh. "I'm afraid he's put it in pretty unanswerable terms, all right. Except for one minor point, I couldn't help but agree with everything he said, in spite of the fact that I--well, I'm sold on EL, naturally." We sat for a while just sort of gazing around at nothing. Finally Blik spoke up. "What was that one point that you disagreed on Jack?" he asked his partner. "I've been running Mr. Gaines' statement over in my mind and I can't seem to find the flaw you mentioned." "Oh, it was nothing," said Long impatiently. "Just a minor point." "No, I mean it," said Blik. "I'd really like to know." "Not worth talking about. Let's pack up and not take any more of Mr. Gaines' time." "Come on, Jack, tell me what it was," said Blik, in a rather positive way, I thought. "Really, Arnie," said Long, firing up a little, "take it easy, will you? We don't want to have to argue about some little point that doesn't mean anything. Just forget it." His attitude changed quickly from irritation to downright nastiness. Apparently, as head of the sales team, he wasn't going to take anything from a subordinate. It kind of irritated me in turn, because he gave me the impression that he felt as if he was too good to talk with us about it. "All right, all right," said Blik, "the hell with it. So it was a minor point." "Why not tell him?" I asked Long, cutting in quickly as Blik made a move to pack up the Sim. * * * * * Long turned toward me with a supercilious look that put me in the same category as assistants who had the temerity to question the boss. Then in an instant the mask returned and he was just as polite and smooth as ever--but I'd seen the crack in the slickness before he changed. It really got me where I live. That's one thing I can't stand--an assault on the ego by a slick bum like that, who thinks he's so good. "Oh, I don't see how it can be that small a point," I said. "Especially if you thought of it." I said the last part as insultingly as I knew how, and I saw the color rise in his face. "Yes, speak up," said Blik, siding with me. "He's got a right to know."