Plat became aware of the patient eyes and said, “Don’t you understand me?”

One of the bolder technicians said, “With your kind permission, Higher One, we must needs be at work.”

“Yes, I suppose you must.”

The technician felt sorry. This Higher One was queer, but he meant well. Though he spoke a deal of nonsense, he inquired after their families, told them they were fine fellows, and that their work made them better than the Higher Ones.

So he explained, “You see, there is another shipment of granite and steel for the new theater and we will have to shift the energy distribution. It is becoming very hard to do that. The Higher Ones will not listen.”

“Now that’s what I mean. You should make them listen.”

But they just stared at him, and at that moment an idea crawled gently into Plat’s unconscious mind.

Leo Spinney waited for him on the crystal level. He was Plat’s age but taller and much more handsome. Plat’s face was thin, his eyes were china-blue, and he never smiled. Spinney was straight-nosed with brown eyes that seemed to laugh continuously.

Spinney called, “We’ll miss the game.”

“I don’t want to go, Leo. Please.”

Spinney said, “With the technicians again? Why do you waste your time?”

Plat said, “They work. I respect them. What right have we to idle?”

“Ought I to ask questions of the world as it is when it suits me so well’?”

“If you do not, someone will ask questions for you someday.”

“That will be someday, not this day. And, frankly, you had better come. The Sekjen has noticed that you are never present at the games and he doesn’t like it. Personally, I think people have been telling him of your talks to the technicians and your visits to the Surface. He might even think you consort with Lower Ones.”