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Brutha didn't know what to reply. "That doesn't sound like god talk," he hazarded.
"It's this tortoise brain."
"What?"
"Don't you know helmets crested with plumes that looked like horses' tails gone rogue marched on either side of the column. A few Ephebian citizens watched idly from the roadside. They looked surprisingly like the people at home, and not like two-legged demons at all.
"They're people," he said.
"Full marks for comparative anthropology."anything? Bodies aren't just handy things for storing your mind in. Your shape affects how you think. It's all this morphology that's all over the place.""What?"Om sighed. "If I don't concentrate, I think like a tortoise!""What? You mean slowly?""No! Tortoises are cynics. They always expect the worst.",Why?""I don't know. Because it often happens to them, I suppose."Brutha stared around at Ephebe. Guards with