ed. "You see, Miss
Rowe, the receptorman has got to be alert. He can't just relax and enjoy
the scene and become the actor like a paying customer. He's got to work,
keeping the perceptics, the feelings coming through in balance. So
there's a circuit, a part of this machine that sort of shields enough of
the operator's mind and keeps it from getting lost in the story while it
runs the receptor and lets the other part live the scene."

"That sounds hard to do," Robina said.

"It takes training and special conditioning but the point is nobody
connected with the production of a feelie ever gets to feel it in all
its original depth as the feeliegoer does. Rushes are run at the lowest
intensity so that the producers and directors can comment and plan
changes as the strips are run. Even with projector intensity set high we
can't totally submerge in the character's identity because that
specially conditioned part of our minds won't submit."

"Well, you're still lucky," Robina said. "Ah'm a Sensitive and Ah'm not
allowed to go to anythin' but silly old musicals an' some comedies. Ah
can't even go to mah brother's feelies what with all the shootin' an'
everythin'."

* * * * *

"EVERYBODY TO THEIR PLACES. RECORDING STARTS IN FIVE MINUTES." The
announcement boomed throughout the vast set and a population of extras
began to animate the streets with purposeful activity.

"Robee, honey, you'll have to go."

"Oh, Jay, can't Ah watch. Ah won't fuss around."

"'Tain't that. Nobody who ain't in the feelie can be in sight of any of
the actors they're recordin'. Why if Ah was to walk down that street as
Jed Carter and suddenly see you standin' over here in them men's
pants--"

"These ain't men's pants!" Robina said indignantly. "These are ladies
slacks."

"Ah know that but Jed Carter don't. All he knows is even a hussy
wouldn't strut around like that. Tell you what. You go over there to
where it says, Mrs. Hepple's Quality Boarding Home an' you can peek out
the parlor window at the doin's. Ah guess they had noseybodies then too.
Now get!"

Jason turned and hurried down the street, not bothering to glance after
Robina. She had crossed the street and was passing a saloon when the
omnipresent voice commanded her, "GIRL IN THE GREEN SLACKS GET OUT OF
SIGHT." She became so flustered she dashed into the saloon doorway.

Jed Carter escorted the lady from Nashville down the plank sidewalk to
her carria