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167
The Status Civilization
·
Robert Sheckley
49
"We'll
never
find
out,"
Rend
said,
"unless
we
can
return
to
Earth."
That
ended
the
discussion.
Toward
the
end
of
the
week,
Barrent
received
another
invitation
from
the
Dream
Shop,
more
strongly
worded
than
the
first.
He
decided
to
discharge
the
obligation
that
evening.
He
checked
the
temperature,
and
found
that
it
had
risen
into
the
high
nineties.
Wiser
now
in
Omegan
ways,
he
packed
a
small
satchel
full
of
cold-weather
clothing,
and
started
out.
The
Dream
Shop
was
located
in
the
exclusive
Death's
Row
section.
Barrent
went
in,
and
found
himself
in
a
small,
sumptuously
furnished
waiting
room.
A
sleek
young
man
behind
a
polished
desk
gave
him
an
artificial
smile.
"Could
I
be
of
service?"
the
young
man
asked.
"My
name
is
Nomis
J.
Arkdragen,
assistant
manager
in
charge
of
nightside
dreams."
"I'd
like
to
know
something
about
what
happens,"
Barrent
said.
"How
one
gets
dreams,
what
kind
of
dreams,
all
that
sort
of
thing."
"Of
course,"
Arkdragen
said.
"Our
service
is
easily
explained,
Citizen--"
"Barrent.
Will
Barrent."
Arkdragen
nodded
and
checked
a
name
from
a
list
in
front
of
him.
He
looked
up
and
said,
"Our
dreams
are
produced
by
the
action
of
drugs
upon
the
brain
and
the
central
nervous
system.
There
are
many
drugs
which
produce
the
desired
effect.
Among
the
most
useful
are
heroin,
morphine,
opium,
coca,
hemp,
and
peyote.
All
those
are
Earth
products.
Found
only
on
Omega
are
Black
Slipper,
nace,
manicee,
tri-narcotine,
djedalas,
and
the
various
products
of
the
carmoid
group.
Any
and
all
of
these
are
dream-inducers."
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