Now he could see the three steps leading to an
open door and he went up the steps to the kitchen. There he could hear
their voices.

Martha was talking. "As Dan has told you there's nothing to fear from
an injection of lucidate. It's a perfectly harmless drug with no
serious aftereffects that promotes total recall. Total recall is what
we need unless we get a much larger group of donors than we have
presently.

"Readers are no problem. We've had more requests for our magazine than
we can fill. Our biggest problem, more important than getting memory
donors, is to find someone who can contribute significant original
work. For that kind of man we're still searching. Or woman."

Doak moved quietly, very slowly, past the kitchen sink and along the
short hall that led to the dining room. There was a swinging door
here, closed, but the upper half was glass and he could see through
the dining room into the lighted living room. He took off the
infra-scope glasses.

Nine people were in the room, seven men and two women. The men ranged
in age from about twenty-three to the old gent with the beard, who
seemed ageless. The other woman was a gray-haired lady of about fifty
with fine features and a rich contralto voice.

She was saying, "I'd like to be the first to go under the lucidate."

Next to a maple fireman's chair a man who looked about forty nodded
and the woman came forward to sit in the chair. He had a hypodermic in
his hand and she extended her arm.

On the far side of the room Martha was wheeling up a small recording
machine.

Now the woman's eyes were closed and the others sat back, watching
her. The contralto voice was clear and resonant.

"'... 'tis but thy name that is my enemy
Thou art thyself though, not a Montague.
What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet...'"

The rich voice, the flowing rhythm, the silence--was it Burns she
quoted? No--he knew all of Burns--but this was some giant of the past;
this was almost up to vintage Burns.

He left his vantage point and went quietly back to the kitchen,
donning his infra-scope once more. In some of these old houses there
was a back steps, leading to the second floor.

Another door leading off the kitchen, another hall--and the steps.

They would undoubtedly creak. But they might