been sitting in a cell with absolutely nothing to do. I
exercised by chinning myself on the bars and playing gymnastics. I
wanted to run but there was not enough room. The physical thrill I got
out of being able to chin myself with one hand wore off after a half
hundred pull-ups because it was no great feat for a Mekstrom. I did
push-ups and bridges and other stunts until I was bored again.

And all the while, my thinking section was going around and around. The
one main point that I kept coming back to was a very unpleasant future
to face:

It was certain that no matter what I did, nor how I argued, I was going
to help them out. Either I would do it willingly or they'd grow tired of
the lecture routine and take me in for a mental re-evaluation, after
which (Being not-Steve Cornell any more) I'd join their ranks and do
their bidding. About the only thing I could look at with self-confidence
was my determination to hold out. If I was going to join them, it would
be after I were no longer the man I am, but reoriented into whatever
design they wanted. And that resolve was weakened by the normal human
will to live. You can't make a horse drink water, but you can lead a
human being to a well and he will drink it dry if you keep a shotgun
pointed in his direction.

And so it ended up with my always wondering if, when the cards were all
dealt out face up, whether I would have the guts to keep on saying 'No'
right up to the point where I walked into their department of
brain-washing. In fact, I was rather afraid that in the last moment I'd
weaken, just to stay being me.

That uncertainty of mine was, of course, just the idea they wanted to
nourish in my mind. They were doing it by leaving me alone with my
mental merry-go-round.

Again I hit the sack out of sheer boredom and I turned and tossed for
what seemed like hours before I dropped off to sleep, wondering and
dreaming about who was to be the next visitor with a bill of goods to
sell.

The next visitor came in about midnight, or thereabouts. I woke up with
the realization that someone had come in through the outer door and was
standing there in the semi-dark caused by a bright moon shining in
through my barred window.

"Steve," she said, in a near whisper.

"Go away," I told her. "Haven't you done enough already?"

"Oh, please, Steve. I've got to talk to you."

I sat on the edge of my bunk and looked at her. She was fully dressed;
her light printed silk was of