"Well, that's an idea, sure enough," said Blik suddenly. He had been silent during the flare-up between Long and me. "But I can't help but think," he continued, "that your original argument was a little tighter. The old virtues do have a place, don't they?" You see how slick, how well-trained, how cunning they were? When Blik opened his mouth, the bubble burst, and I knew that they had neatly switched me around to where I was arguing against myself. Up until the instant Blik started talking, I was actually selling myself on EL, and the truth was that I had almost completed the job by that time. If he had remained silent, I probably would have signed the contract--I think I would have fought to sign it. I felt an emotion of strength and power then. A top EL team had given me the works and I had seen through them. They still didn't know they had lost, but they would--just as soon as I opened my mouth to speak. The emotion of victory is sweeter than almost anything else, and all the sweeter for having skirted defeat. "You know, Arnie," I said, "I agree with you. The old virtues are best. I think EL is a living hell." It was a sight to see, believe me. Their slick, slick faces folded like paper houses in a hurricane. Blik's hands were shaking as he bent over and started packing up the Sim without another word. You have to be good to know that fast that you have lost irrevocably. They got up then and scooped their hats up from the floor and put them on. The gracious, gentlemanly conduct was a thing of the past. "Tell me," said Long, his hand on the door, the edge of the EL contract peeking untidily out of his expensive briefcase, "where did we make our mistake?" I laughed a good loud whoop. It felt good. "It was when Arnie here switched sides." "Stupid fool," said Long, looking as though he wanted to slam the square box containing the Sim over Blik's head. "Sorry, old man," Blik said, coloring a deep red. "I'll try to make it up next time." "Not with me, you won't," said Long. "Technician!" They opened the door and went out. I jigged with glee as I looked out the window and watched them cross the court. Long was walking along in a high dudgeon, his briefcase swinging angrily with every step. Blik was trotting along to one side and behind him, his shoulders slumped, defeat written all over his form and walk. * * * * * I looked around as the wall swung open and Rommy walked in with his hand outstretched. "Congratulations!" he said, beaming widely. "It was perfect! My God, it's a delight for a director to work with a real group of competent actors. All three of you were perfect!" "Thanks," I said. "I hope I was as good as you think when we play the tape back." I felt along the base of my skull where the transmitter hung encased in Natur-flesh and covered with fake hair. I could hardly believe it was there, it felt so natural.