He saw my expression and said, “Never mind, just take my word for it. They must have had the education pills for a hundred years before they worked out the eraser principle.”

“Probably. The pills must be very old.”

He pounced. “How do you know that?”

“The name for the pill has only one syllable, like fork. There are dozens of words for kinds of pill reflexes, for swallowing the wrong pill, for side effects depending on what species is taking the pill. There’s a special word for an animal training pill, and another one for a slave training pill. Morris, I think my memory is beginning to settle down.”

“Good!”

“Anyway, the Monks must have been peddling pills to aliens for thousands of years. I’d guess tens of thousands.”

“Just how many kinds of pill were in that case?”

I tried to remember. My head felt congested…

“I don’t know if there was more than one of each kind of pill. There were four stiff flaps like the leaves of a book, and each flap had rows of little pouches with a pill in each one. The flaps were maybe sixteen pouches long by eight across. Maybe. Morris, we ought to call Louise. She probably remembers better than I do, even if she noticed less at the time.”

“You mean Louise Schu the barmaid? She might at that. Or she might jar something loose in your memory.”

“Right.”

“Call her. Tell her we’ll meet her. Where’s she live, Santa Monica?”

He’d done his homework, all right.

Her phone was still ringing when Morris said, “Wait a minute. Tell her we’ll meet her at the Long Spoon. And tell her we’ll pay her amply for her trouble.”

Then Louise answered and told me I’d jarred her out of a sound sleep, and I told her she’d be paid amply for her trouble, and she said what the hell kind of a crack was that?