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 It depends on one s work schedule. A normal freqqency for someone of my age and position would be
nine or ten times.
 A day? Chad s eyes got very wide.
 Yes. Clearly Runs was puzzled by his friend s reaction.  This would be regarded as abnormal by your
people?
 According to everything I ve heard, yeah. He hesitated, asked uncer-tainly, Every day?
 Except on meditation and rest days when activity would be greater or lesser, according to individual
preference.
 How do you find the time to do anything else?
 The actual activity does not take very long. Two to six minutes, I would say, is average. Time does
impose its own constraints.
 That makes a little more sense. For some inexplicable reason Runs thought his friend looked relieved.
 I am glad. Another difference between us. As the subject quite clearly made Chad uncomfortable,
Runs-red-Talking decided to switch to another.  Tell me your thoughts about war.
 That s a funny thing to want to talk about after discussing sex.
 Why? The two are closely connected.
 Why do you want to talk about that?
 Because we find the existence of an intelligent, technologically advanced species still battling on the
tribal level a fascinating contradiction. The Quozl used to fight all the time, with unending ferocity, but that
was long ago. It wasn t until we matured as a race that we discovered other means of control-ling our
population. Among the Quozi the sublimation of violence is the healthiest of art forms. Your attempts to
do likewise are curiously flawed. For example, your television broadcasts show male violence but rarely
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any blood or actual damage. Hence their therapeutic value is nonexistent. They are worse than useless
and  in fact encourage serious combat.
 Television s not designed for  therapeutic value,  Chad told him.  It s designed to entertain and amuse.
That s all.
 A tool turned inside out. The more I learn about you the more puzzling and intriguing I find you. This
intertribal combat is unhealthy and counter-productive. It retards your growth.
 Not to mention the fact that people die, Chad murmured.
 That also. Runs-red-Talking rose and began chucking pebbles into the pool which had nearly claimed
his life. He could skip stones better than anyone Chad had ever seen. His extra fingers gave him
additional control.
 You don t seem to realize an obvious fact of elementary psychology, which is that if sufficient violence
is supplied in the form of entertainment in
tandem with social disapproval of the actual act, tribal violence will dimin-ish.
 I guess people don t see that. Chad found himself studying the Quozl s slim lines, the sleek fur and
delicate arms and fingers, the gentle, contempla-tive face.  It s hard to imagine you guys fighting all the
time. You don t look like killers, and you certainly don t act like it.
 Appearances can be deceiving. That expression, I believe, is also current among your people.
Whereupon he leaped into the air wearing an expres-sion adopted from a Fourth Imperial mural by the
revered artist Hands-over-Sand: eyes bulging, ears pointed straight back, face distorted to the left to
display the lower incisors to the maximum. He held his right hand out-stretched, fingers crooked to reveal
nails that could have been shaped into claws. His other arm was kept back and curled to deliver a
follow-up blow as he kicked out sharply with the blunt end of his enormous right foot. All this was done
soundlessly, in the accepted manner of combat.
Chad didn t react silently. He let out a yelp as the huge foot flew toward his face. It was large and heavy
enough to crush his nose if not the cheek-bones supporting it. It flashed just past his right eye, the wind of
its passing a whisper in his ear. A fraction of a second after, the fingers of the right hand caressed his
forehead while the fist that was the left brushed his nostrils.
Then Runs-red-Talking was standing behind him adjusting his bodysuit at the crotch. His expression was
as bland as before. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]