“—of course you don’t know what I mean. You have no context.”

“Preposterous. Everybody has a context.”

“No. You have a situation, an environment. That is not the same thing. You exist. I would hardly deny you that.”

“Well, thanks.”

“Yeah. Otherwise you’d be talking to yourself.”

“You’re saying we don’t really live, is that it?”

“That depends what you mean by live. But let’s say yes.”

“How fascinating, my dear Ziller,” E. H. Tersono said. “I wonder—”

“Because we don’t suffer.”

“Because you scarcely seem capable of suffering.”

“Well said! Now, Ziller—”

“Oh, this is such an ancient argument…”

“But it’s only the ability to suffer that—”

“Hey! I’ve suffered! Lemil Kimp broke my heart.”

“Shut up, Tulyi.”

“—you know, that makes you sentient, or whatever. It’s not actually suffering.”

“But she did!”

“An ancient argument, you said, Ms Sippens?”

“Yes.”

“Ancient meaning bad?”

“Ancient meaning discredited.”

“Discredited? By whom?”

“Not whom. What.”

“And that what would be… ?”

“Statistics.”

“So there we are. Statistics. Now then, Ziller, my dear friend—”

“You are not serious.”

“I think she thinks she is more serious than you, Zil.”

“Suffering demeans more than it ennobles.”

“And this is a statement derived wholly from these statistics?”

“No. I think you’ll find a moral intelligence is required as well.”

“A prerequisite in polite society, I’m sure we’d all agree. Now, Ziller—”

“A moral intelligence which instructs us that all suffering is bad.”

“No. A moral intelligence which will incline to treat suffering as bad until proved good.”

“Ah! So you admit that suffering can be good.”