ing slowly. "I'm so terribly sorry, Mr.
Hastings. I thought we were going to get the full and true event this
time. But it often happens, as in your case, that fantasy lies upon
fantasy, and it is necessary to dig through great layers of them before
uncovering the truth. I think, however, that we shall not have to go
much deeper to find the underlying truth for you."

Mel lay on the couch, continuing to stare at the ceiling. "Then there
was no great, black ship out of space?"

"Of course not! That is one danger of these analyses, Mr. Hastings. You
must not be deceived into believing that a newly discovered fantasy is
the truth for which you were looking. You must come back and continue
your search."

"Yes. Yes, of course." He got up slowly and was helped to the outer room
by the Doctor and an attendant. The attendant gave him a glass of white,
sweetish substance to drink.

"A booster-upper," laughed Dr. Martin. "It takes away the grogginess
that sometimes attends such a deep sweep. We will look for you day after
tomorrow."

Mel nodded and stepped out into the hall.

* * *

No great black ship.

No mysterious little robot ships with tentacles that whip out and
capture a man.

No strange trio in surgeons' gowns.

And no Alice--

A sudden spear of thought pierced his mind. Maybe all that was
illusion, too. Maybe he could go home right now and find her waiting for
him. Maybe--

No. That was real enough. The accident. Dr. Winters. The scene in the
icy room next to Surgery at the hospital. Dr. Martin didn't know about
that. He would have called that a fantasy, too, if Mel had tried to tell
him.

No. It was all real.

The unbelievable, alien organs of Alice.

The great, black ship.

The mindless robot searchers.

His nightmare had stemmed from all this that had happened out in space,
which had somehow been wiped from his conscious memory. The nightmare
had not existed in his boyhood, as he had thought. It was oriented in
time now.

But what had happened to Alice? There was no clue in the memory
unearthed by Dr. Martin. Was her condition merely the result of some
freak heredity or gene mutation?

The surging turmoil in his mind was greater than before. There was only
one way to quiet it--that was to carry out his original plan to go to
Mars.

He'd go out there again. He'd find out if the black ship existed or not.

* * * * *

The girl in the tick