them to set up a breeding-center. You're _his_ guinea pig."

"But why all the secrecy?"

"That's what I wanted to know. That's why I scurried around, pulled
strings to get a lab technician's job here. It wasn't easy, believe
me. The whole deal is being kept strictly under wraps until
Leffingwell's experiments prove out. They realized right away that it
would be fatal to use volunteers for the experiments--they'd be bound
to talk, there'd be leaks. And of course, they anticipated some
awkward results at first, until the technique is refined and
perfected. Well, they were right on that score. I've seen some of
their failures." Ritchie shuddered. "Any volunteer--any military man,
government employee or even a so-called dedicated scientist who broke
away would spread enough rumors about what was going on to kill the
entire project. That's why they decided to use mental patients for
subjects. God knows, they had millions to choose from, but they were
very particular. You're a rare specimen, Collins."

"How so?"

"Because you happen to fit all their specifications. You're young, in
good physical condition. Unlike ninety percent of the population, you
don't even wear contact lenses, do you? And your aberration was
temporary, easily removed by removing you from the tension-sources
which created it. You have no family ties, no close friends, to
question your absence. That's why you were chosen--one of the two
hundred."

"Two hundred? But there's only a dozen others here now."

"A dozen males, yes. You're forgetting the females. Must be about
fifty or sixty in the other building."

"But if you're talking about someone like Sue, she's a nurse--"

Ritchie shook his head. "That's what she was _told_ to say. Actually,
she's a patient, too. They're all patients. Twelve men and sixty
women, at the moment. Originally, about thirty men and a hundred and
seventy women."

"What happened to the others?"

"I told you there were some failures. Many of the women died in
childbirth. Some of them survived, but found out about the
results--and the results, up until now, haven't been perfect. A few of
the men found out, too. Well, they have only one method of dealing
with failures here. They dispose of them. I told you about that
chimney, didn't I?"

"You mean they killed the offspring, killed those who found out about
them?"

Ritchie shrugged.

"But what are they actually _doing_? Who is this Dr. Leffingwell?
What's it all abou