e same."

"It's a terrible thing," Mary said faintly.

"You'll get used to it. We get one or two every day." He shrugged.
"There's nothing here that's interesting," he said as he released the
clamps and tilted the table. For what seemed to Mary an interminable
time, the cadaver clung to the polished steel. Then abruptly it slid off
the shining surface and disappeared through the square hole in the
floor. "We'll clean up now," Kramer said as he placed the instruments in
the autoclave, closed the door and locked it, and pressed three buttons
on the console.

From jets embedded in the walls a fine spray filled the room with fog.

"Germicide," Kramer said. "Later there'll be steam. That's all for
now. Do you want to go?"

Mary nodded.

"If you feel a little rocky there's a bottle of Scotch in my desk. I'll
split a drink with you when we get out of here."

"Thanks," Mary said. "I think I could use one."

* * * * *

"Barton! Where is the MacNeal stain!" Kramer's voice came from the lab.
"I left it on the sink and it's gone!"

"It's with the other blood stains and reagents. Second drawer from the
right in the big cabinet. There's a label on the drawer," Mary called
from the office. "If you can wait until I finish filing these papers,
I'll come in and help you."

"I wish you would," Kramer's voice was faintly exasperated. "Ever since
you've organized my lab I can't find anything."

"You just have a disorderly mind," Mary said, as she slipped the last
paper into its proper folder and closed the file. "I'll be with you in a
minute."

"I don't dare lose you," Kramer said as Mary came into the lab. "You've
made yourself indispensable. It'd take me six months to undo what you've
done in one. Not that I mind," he amended, "but I was used to things the
way they were." He looked around the orderly laboratory with a mixture
of pride and annoyance. "Things are so neat they're almost painful."

"You look more like a pathologist should," Mary said as she deftly
removed the tray of blood slides from in front of him and began to run
the stains. "It's my job to keep you free to think."

"Whose brilliant idea is that? Yours?"

"No--the Director's. He told me what my duties were when I came here.
And I think he's right. You should be using your brain rather than
fooling around with blood stains and sectioning tissues."

"But I like to do things like that," Kramer protested. "It's relaxing."