blank to the emotion lab. His electroencephalogram revealed nine alpha
cycles to the second, but too much theta.

"Are you nervous?" the technician asked Ellaby. "You're thetaing all
over the place."

"I guess so. Yes, I'm nervous."

"Then let's try it again."

They did, the technician rubbing the greasy electrode salve on
Ellaby's forehead before the electrodes were fastened there for the
second time. The result was the same. "More than modal theta," said
the technician, writing something in code on his employment blank.
"See the personnel advisor, please."

For Ellaby, it came as a distinct shock. His heart pounded against his
temples, in his ears. He was emotionally unstable. Had the ten years
been for nothing?

* * * * *

"Sit down, Ellaby," the personnel advisor said. He was a man of middle
age, irritatingly careless about his appearance. He had dyed his
graying hair, of course, but if you looked close you could see gray at
the roots. He wore a green Thursday tunic which was poorly starched.
Having had a full week to get it ready, that was naturally
inexcusable.

"You have a splendid record, Ellaby," the sloppy personnel clerk said.
"Mentally, within tenths of the mode. Physically, even closer.
Unfortunately your emotional--"

"That never happened to me before, not in High Falls, it didn't,"
Ellaby interrupted.

"This is not High Falls. Every community, you must realize, has its
own security testing center. And the capitol requires the tightest
security of all."

"I know but I was nervous. You're going to tell me my theta was too
high, aren't you?"

"That's correct. You needn't feel so bad about it. You're going to be
cleared for secret work. You're damn close to modal, Ellaby. You're a
good security risk. Incidentally, just why were you nervous?"

"Because I wanted top secret clearance. Because I wanted to work close
to the Dictator. You see--" Abruptly, Ellaby stopped talking, clasping
a hand over his mouth in sudden confusion. He wasn't supposed to talk
about this. Lying, of course, was as far from Ellaby's nature as it
was from anyone else's, assuming he were reasonably close to the mode.
But Ellaby hadn't been asked for all that information directly. "What
kind of job will I get?" he asked, trying desperately to change the
subject.

It was too late. The personnel clerk asked, "Just why did you want to
work close to the Dictator?"

Ellaby felt a single drop o