"We are? Why...Ishtar?"

"I made another call and bucked a supernumerary team into that watch. Should have done so sooner, but you had me bemused, dear. The Senior won't need us tomorrow; he's in deep sleep and won't know that he has missed a, day. But I want to be there when he wakes, so I rearranged the watch list for the following day, too, and we may stay on watch all day; depends on the shape he's in. That is, I may. I don't insist that you do a double or triple watch."

"I can take it if you can. Ishtar? That professional rank you forbade me to mention- You're actually even higher rank than that. Aren't you?"

"If I am-I am not affirming it-I forbid you even to speculate about it. If you wish to stay assigned to this client,"

"Whew! You do have a sharp tongue. Did I deserve that?"

"Dear Galahad! I'm sorry. When you are on watch, dear, I want you to think only about our client, not about me. Off watch I am Ishtar and don't wish to be anything else. This is the most important case we will ever be on. It may go on a long time and be very tiring. So let's not be edgy with each other. I was trying to say that you-both of us-now have more than thirty hours before we must be back on duty. You are welcome here as many of those hours as you wish. Or leave as soon as you wish and I will smile and not complain."

"I don't want to leave, I said so. As long as I don't keep you from your sleep-"

"You won't."

"-and allow an hour to pick up a fresh pack of disposables, robe in, and go through decontam. I wish I had fetched a pack, but I hadn't planned on this."

"Oh. We'll make that an hour and a half. My phone had a message waiting in it. The Senior does not like the way we look in isolation gear; he wants to be able to see anyone around him. So we must plan time to go through body decontam instead, then attend him in ordinary clothes."

"Uh...Ishtar, is this wise? We might sneeze on him."

"Do you think I set this policy? Dear, this message was straight from the Palace. Besides that, females are specifically ordered to look as pretty and be as attractively dressed as possible-so I must think about what I can wear that can go through sterilization. Nudity is not acceptable; that was specified, too. But don't worry about sneezing. Have you never taken full body decontamination? When that crew gets through with you, you can't sneeze; no matter how much you need to. But don't tell the Senior that you've had decontam; the assumption is that we simply walk in off the street-no special precautions."

"How can I tell him when I don't speak his language? Does he have some fetish against nudity?"

"I don't know, I am just conveying the order, one that went out to everyone on the watch list."

He looked thoughtful. "It's probably not a fetish. All fetishes are contra-survival, that's elementary. You told me that the principal problem was to break him out of his apathy. You were pleased that he was bad-tempered, even though you said it was a hyperreaction."

"Certainly I was pleased; it showed that he was responding. Galahad, never mind that now; I don't have a thing to wear, you'll have to help me."

"I'm talking about what you should wear. I think it was the Chairman Pro Tem's idea, not the Senior's."

"Dear man, I don't try to read his mind; I just carry out his orders. I don't have any taste in clothes, never did have. Do you think a lab assistant's coverall would be suitable? It will take sterilization and never show it-and I look quite neat in one."

"I am trying to read the mind of the Chairman Pro Tem, Ishtar-guess his intentions, at least. No, I don't think a lab uniform would do; you would not look as if you had 'simply walked in off the street.' If we stipulate that a fetish syndrome is not involved, then the only advantage of clothing over nudity in this situation is to lend variety. Contrast. Change. Help shake him loose from that apathy."

She stared at him with thoughtful interest. "Galahad, up to now, based on my own experience, I've always thought that a man's only interest in a woman's clothes was to get them off her. I may have to put you in for promotion."

"I'm not ready to be promoted; I've been in the Vocation less than ten years. As I'm sure you know. Let's take a look at your wardrobe."

"What are you going to wear, dear?"

"Doesn't matter what I wear; the Senior is male and all the stories and myths about him indicate that he has remained canalized by the primitive culture he was born in. Not sensually polymorphous."

"How can you be sure? Myths, dear."

"Ishtar, all myths tell the truth if you know how to read them. I'm guessing, but it is a reasoned guess, as this is something I used to be somewhat expert in. Until I was rejuvenated-until you rejuvenated me-then I went into something more active."

"What, dear?"

"Some other time. I was simply saying that I don't think it matters what I wear. A chiton. Shorts and singlet. Kilt. Even the underwear I had on under isolation gear. Oh, I'll wear lively colors and something different each watch-but he won't look at me, he'll look at you. So let's pick out something he would like to see you in."

"How will you know, Galahad?"

"Very simple. I'll choose something I would like to see a long-legged beautiful blonde wear."

He was surprised to see how little Ishtar had in her wardrobe. In all his varied experience with women she was the only one he could remember who seemed to lack the vanity needed to buy unnecessary clothes. As he searched, mind preoccupied, he hummed and then sang a snatch of doggerel.

Ishtar said, "You speak his milk language!"

"Eh? What? Whose? The Senior's? I certainly don't. But I must learn it, I suppose."

"But you were singing in it. A little song he always sings when he's busy with something."

"You mean this? 'Therza poolyawl...Bytha paunshot-' I have a phonographic ear, that's all; I don't understand the words. What do they mean?"

"I'm not sure they mean anything. Most of them are not in the vocabulary I've learned so far. I suspect that it is just amphigoric rhythm, a self-tranquilizer. Semantically null."

"On the other hand, it might be a key to understanding him. Have you tried asking a computer?" -

"Galahad, I haven't been given access to the computer that records what goes on in his suite. But I doubt if anyone can understand him, in depth. He's a primitive, dear-a living fossil."

"I would certainly like to try to understand him. This language he uses- Is it difficult?"

"Very. Irrational, complicated syntax, and so loaded with idioms and multivalues that I trip even on words I think I know. I wish I had your recording ear."

"The Chairman Pro Tem seemed to have no difficulty."

"I think he has a special talent for languages. But if you want to try, dear, I have the instructional programs here."

"Accepted! What is this? A party dress?"

"That? That's not clothing. I bought it as a throw cover for a couch-then got it home and saw that it did not fit my lounging room."

"It's a dress. Stand there and hold still."

"Don't tickle!"