* * * * *

The Skull-Hotel, Cephalon, Ariz. Nov. 9th. 3 a.m.

I didn't go to the P. G. last night for two main reasons: In the first
place I must be careful so as not to raise any suspicions on Gus' part.
Rarely, if ever, have I visited him for two nights in succession in the
past and he might well begin to ponder my reasons if now I should make a
habit of it. Especially since Gus happens to possess one of the keenest
minds I ever met and his curiosity already has been awakened by my
preoccupation with that one and fairly simple gadget: the pulsemeter.

In the second place I feel the absolute necessity of establishing my
independence as against the will of The Brain. That command two nights
ago for me to be on the spot _every_ night was just too preemptory for
me to oblige. This isn't the army and The Brain is no commanding
general.

In our last communication The Brain seemed to labor under the impression
that I was unconditionally at its beck and call. Of course, I've sworn
the "Oath of the Brain," but that doesn't make me The Brain's slave. In
fact--and in order to clarify this subject once and for all--while
personally I haven't created The Brain and cannot take any credit for
that, it nevertheless remains true that the _species_ to which I belong,
i.e. "homo sapiens" _has_ created The Brain.

If any question of rank enters into the picture at all, it is quite
obvious that I, as a member of the human race, rank _paternity_ over The
Brain so that naturally The Brain should owe me filial obedience rather
than the other way around no matter how superior The Brain's
intelligence may be. It would appear to me that the sooner The Brain
realizes its position, I might say "its station in life," the better it
would be for The Brain itself and for everybody else concerned.

So these were the reasons why I refrained purposely from visiting the P.
G. last night. Tonight, however, I couldn't restrain my curiosity any
longer and what happened, told as exactly and as concise as possible,
was this:

12:30 a.m.: Contact established. The Brain comes through with its
calling signal. It repeats this about ten times questioning at first and
then placing more and more stress upon the word "sensitive" in my
personal description. It strikes me that these repetitions are tuning-in
and warming-up processes. The Brain stands in need of ascertaining my
presence and of adjusting to it it seems; just about