*

Probably for the first time since he had got clever enough to beat up
his big brother Meyverik was doubting himself, just a little, for just a
time.

I don't know whether it was good or bad for him--contemporary psychology
isn't in my line--but I knew I couldn't trust a cocky kid.

But I had to find out if he could still hit the target uncocked.

* * * * *

Stan Johnson was our second lonely man, remember, General?

He was stubborn.

I questioned him for a half hour the first day, two hours the second and
on the third I turned him over to Madison.

Then as I was having my lunch I suddenly thought of something and made
steps back to my office.

I got there just in time to grab Madison's bony wrist.

The thing in his fist was silver and sharp, a hypodermic needle.
Johnson's forearm was tanned below the torn pastel sleeve. Two sad-faced
young men were holding him politely by the shoulders in the canvas
chair. Johnson met my glance expressionlessly.

I tugged on Madison's arm sharply.

"What's in that damned sticker?"

"Polypenthium." Madison's face was as blank as Johnson's--only his body
seemed at once tired and taut.

"What's it for?" I rasped.

"You're the psychologist," he said sharply.

I met his eyes and held on but it was impossible to stare him down.

"I don't know about physical methods, I told you. I've been dealing with
people in books, films, tapes all my life, not living men up till now,
can't you absorb that?"

"Apparently I've had more experience with these things than you then,
Doctor. Shall I proceed?"

"You shall not," I cried omnisciently. "I know enough to understand we
can't get the results the government wants by drugs. You going to put
that away?"

Madison nodded once.

"All right," he said.

I unshackled my fingers and he put the shiny needle away in its case, in
his suitcoat pocket.

"You understand, Thorn," he said, "that the general won't like this."

I turned around and looked at him.

"Did he order you to drug Johnson?"

The government agent shook his head.

"I didn't think so." I was beginning to understand government
operations. "He only wanted it done. Get out."

Madison and his assistants marched out in orthodox Euclidian triangle
formation.

The doors hissed shut.

"You know what?" The words jerked out from Johnson. "I think the bunch
of you are crazy. _Crazy._"

I decided to treat him like a client. Maybe that