e of
us is a balanced individual. And the imbalances are chosen to match and
blend, so that we will react as a balanced unit. Sure I know Johnny's
bugaboos, and Hoskins', and yours. They were all in my indoctrination
treatments. I know all your case histories, all your psychic
push-buttons."

"And yours?" demanded the Captain.

"Hoskins, for example," said Paresi. "Happily married, no children.
Physically inferior all his life. Repressed desire for pure science
which produced more than a smattering of a great many sciences and made
him a hell of an engineer. High idealistic quotient; self sacrifice.
Look at him playing chess, making of this very real situation a
theoretical abstraction ... like leaving a marriage for deep space.

"Johnny we know about. Brought up with never failing machines. Still
plays with them as if they were toys, and like any imaginative child,
turns to his toys for reassurance. He needs to be a hero, hence the
stars....

"Ives ... always fat. Learned to be easy-going, learned to laugh _with_
when others were laughing _at_, and bottling up pressures every time it
happened. A large appetite. He's here to satisfy it; he's with us so he
can eat up the galaxies...."

There was a long pause. "Go on," said the Captain. "Who's next? You?"

"You," said the doctor shortly. "You grew up with a burning curiosity
about the nature of things. But it wasn't a scientist's curiosity; it
was an aesthete's. You're one of the few people alive who refused a
subsidized education and worked your way through advanced studies as a
crewman on commercial space-liners. You became one of the youngest
professors of philosophy in recent history. You made a romantic marriage
and your wife died in childbirth. Since then--almost a hundred missions
with E.A.S., refusing numerous offers of advancement. Do I have to tell
you what your bugaboo is now?"

"No," said Anderson hoarsely. "But I'm ... not afraid of it. I had no
idea your ..." He swallowed. "... information was that complete."

"I wish it wasn't. I wish I had some things to--wonder about," said
Paresi with surprising bitterness.

The Captain looked at him shrewdly. "Go on with your case histories."

"I've finished."

"No you haven't." When Paresi did not answer, the Captain nudged him.
"Johnny, Ives, Hoskins, me. Haven't you forgotten someone?"

"No I haven't," snarled Paresi, "and if you expect me to tell you why a
psychologist buries himself in the stars, I