A Patrolman hurried over and
took one of the suitcases. The three men went inside and down the
corridor to Harris' quarters. Harris unlocked the door and the Patrolman
deposited his suitcase inside.

"Thanks," Harris said. He set the other down beside it. "It's good to be
back, even for a little while."

"A little while?"

"I just came back to settle my affairs. I have to return to Y-3 tomorrow
morning."

"Then you didn't solve the problem?"

"I solved it, but I haven't _cured_ it. I'm going back and get to work
right away. There's a lot to be done."

"But you found out what it is?"

"Yes. It was just what the men said. The Pipers."

"The Pipers do exist?"

"Yes." Harris nodded. "They do exist." He removed his coat and put it
over the back of the chair. Then he went to the window and let it down.
Warm spring air rushed into the room. He settled himself on the bed,
leaning back.

"The Pipers exist, all right--in the minds of the Garrison crew! To the
crew, the Pipers are real. The crew created them. It's a mass hypnosis,
a group projection, and all the men there have it, to some degree."

"How did it start?"

"Those men on Y-3 were sent there because they were skilled,
highly-trained men with exceptional ability. All their lives they've
been schooled by complex modern society, fast tempo and high integration
between people. Constant pressure toward some goal, some job to be done.

"Those men are put down suddenly on an asteroid where there are natives
living the most primitive of existence, completely vegetable lives. No
concept of goal, no concept of purpose, and hence no ability to plan.
The natives live the way the animals live, from day to day, sleeping,
picking food from the trees. A kind of Garden-of-Eden existence, without
struggle or conflict."

"So? But--"

"Each of the Garrison crew sees the natives and _unconsciously_ thinks
of his own early life, when he was a child, when _he_ had no worries, no
responsibilities, before he joined modern society. A baby lying in the
sun.

"But he can't admit this to himself! He can't admit that he might _want_
to live like the natives, to lie and sleep all day. So he invents The
Pipers, the idea of a mysterious group living in the woods who trap him,
lead him into their kind of life. Then he can blame _them_, not himself.
They 'teach' him to become a part of the woods."

"What are you going to do? Have the woods burned?"

"No." Harris shook his head. "