Might not be necessary," I said. "Let's assume that we are living in
the mid-Fifties, before Rhine. Steve Cornell turns up being a carrier of
a disease that is really a blessing instead of a curse. In such a time,
Marian, either side could sign me up openly as a sort of missionary; I
could go around the country inoculating the right people, those citizens
who have the right kind of mind, attitude, or whatever-factor. Following
me could be a clean-up corps to collect the wights who'd been inoculated
by my contact. Sounds reasonable, doesn't it?" Without waiting for
either protest or that downcast look of agreement, I went on: "But now
we have perception and telepathy all over the place. So Steve Cornell,
the carrier, must be pushed around from pillar to post, meeting people
and inoculating them without ever knowing what he is doing. Because once
he knows what he is doing, his usefulness is ended in this world of
Rhine Institute."

"Steve--" she started, but I interrupted again.

"About all I have to do now is to walk down any main street radiating my
suspicions," I said bitterly. "And it's off to Medical Center for
Steve--unless the Highways catch me first."

Very quietly, Marian said, "We really dislike to use reorientation on
people. It changes them so--"

"But that's what I'm headed for, isn't it?" I demanded flatly.

"I'm sorry, Steve."

Angrily I went on, not caring that I'd finally caught on and by doing so
had sealed my own package. "So after I have my mind ironed out smoothly,
I'll still go on and on from pillar to post providing newly inoculated
Mekstroms for your follow-up squad."

She looked up at me and there were tears in her eyes. "We were all
hoping--" she started.

"Were you?" I asked roughly. "Were you all working to innoculate me at
Homestead, or were you really studying me to find out what made me a
carrier instead of a victim?"

"Both, Steve," she said, and there was a ring of honesty in her tone. I
had to believe her, it made sense.

"Dismal prospect, isn't it?" I asked. "For a guy that's done nothing
wrong."

"We're all sorry."

"Look," I said with a sudden thought, "Why can't I still go on? I could
start a way station of some sort, on some pretext, and go on
innoculating the public as they come past. Then I could go on working
for you and still keep my right mind."

She shook her head. "Scholar Phelps knows," she said. "Above all things
we must keep you out of his hands. He'd use y