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with effusive apologies (and a tip for the one I had accidentally caused to slip earlier) I asked them what was going on. "Did somebody really vote on whether or not we would have an affair?"
    "Yeah, man. Don't you know who that is in there?" He stuck a meaty thumb over his shoulder. "That's Rainbow Dancer, the Chairman of Springform!"
    "Rainbow Dancer? Sounds like a race horse," I commented.
    "Huh?"
    I waved my hand. "Just a joke." No one on Forma had ever seen a race horse, I realized. I stood as if stage struck. "My God, the Chairman!" I whispered.
    The big man laughed. "Yeah. You're lucky she likes people, otherwise I'd've knocked your head in." His tone changed. "So long," he said with more meaning than the words denoted.
    "Right." I walked back to my room with my mind spinning. The whole universe seemed to spin with it. I didn't know what sense to make of my own mind, much less what sense to make of the universe.
    Was I just falling in love with every woman I saw? That couldn't be it. I hadn't fallen in love with Wendy, for example. Still, I was clearly unsane.
    The planet Forma seemed equally unsane. Why would the Chairman of Springform ask for a vote on whether she had an affair?
    I turned on the video screen again, and soon that question was answered: Springform was run by a full- fledged, purist videocracy. The citizens voted on everything, constantly. Politicians literally belonged to the people; they were powerless beyond their ability to persuade the people to vote their way on each individual issue; the Chairmanship could (and had, at times in the past) change on a daily, or even an hourly, basis.
    I felt much saner, seeing that much raw insanity. I fell back on the couch. In a manner, I slept. I did not dream.
    Soft lips brushed my cheek; "Rainbow," I murmured. Popping open one bleary eye, I saw a blurred being before me. It was Wendy.
    "Rainbow, huh?" she asked. "Did you spend the night with the Chairman of Springform?" She giggled at her own joke.
    "Yes, I did," I explained.
    Wendy stared at me in disbelief. "Rainbow Dancer?"
    "Is there another Chairman?" I asked. "The Chairman was in this motel last night."
    "You're joking." She pointed a finger at me. "Stop trying to pull my leg."
    "Have it your way." I shrugged.
    The buzzer rang on our door. I stepped over and opened it.
    "Gibs." A woman swept into my arms. She was warm and beautiful and—she was Rainbow!
    I pulled back in amazement. "What are you doing here?"
    As I stepped back, Rainbow stepped closer. My mouth was full of cotton, my chin was covered by a stubble of beard you could use to grind an axe blade, and I had slept in my clothes. She didn't seem to mind. "I came to find the only man I've ever met who could understand me," she explained.
    Wendy peeked around the corner. "Who is it, Gibs?" she asked.
    Rainbow stopped short. "Goodness. You certainly didn't lose much time finding a soft shoulder to cry on last night, did you?" Her face flushed. "Or, when you told me that we just had to 'share more laughter together,' did you mean a threesome?"
    "Wait." I talked fast, a terrified machine gun. "This is Wendy Levitine, a friend from Fallform who—"
    "Friends. Right." Rainbow turned on her heel and walked out.
    "You're not being fair!" I yelled through the door. That had no effect, so I ran through the door myself. Rainbow was already rounding the corner. "I love you!"
    She disappeared.
    I pursed my lips. She had done it, as I had feared— she had hurt me, and walked away.
    When I turned back into the room, Wendy looked at me with big wide eyes. "You really did spend the night with Rainbow Dancer!"
    I choked back a violent reply. "Yeah." I looked at Wendy with an appraising eye. I guess I could understand why Rainbow had jumped to the wrong conclusion; Wendy certainly didn't look like the maid. "What do you want for breakfast?" I asked.
    The videoscreen was lit, but I scarcely paid attention. I sipped at my orange juice, watching Wendy eat. "Wendy,