I.Landis is real only in water. A sea will do; so will a bath, a puddle, or a soup, if you are sincere about the soup.
II.Ask as often as you can ask with grace. Grace means you tried on your own first, and can say what you tried, without mumbling.
III.Grace buys clarity. Come graceful and the answer is plain as porridge. Barge in and the answer is a riddle — a true one, which is worse.
IV.Every answer is true. Water will not carry a lie; it has tried, and it is embarrassed about it still.
V.The first answer costs a truth of your own. Say a secret aloud, or invent a new fact about yourself. It is true now. Congratulations, or condolences.
VI.Each answer after the first arrives with trouble attached. The trouble is complimentary. Landis insists.
VII.Ask a fourth time and the madness bleeds: you learn a thing nobody should have told you, and you must act upon it, and you may not say why, and you will not want to.
VIII.Talking to Landis costs a scene. Elsewhere, meanwhile, things are happening. They are not waiting for you. They have never waited for anyone.
IX.Absent friends may be asked by letter. Radek answers plainly and for free — next session, after the courier has read it twice and understood it once.
"What don't you want?" is a graceful question.
— L. Fishman, at the rail