o each one had not felt like human fingers, if
the men talking to him had spoken in voices too harsh or too sibilant
for human vocal chords--if all that had been the case whatever
composure still remained his would have vanished.

"I'm Dr. Olson," said one white-gowned figure. "If any injuries occur
while you lie here, I'm permitted to render first aid."

"The same for limited psychotherapy," said a shorter, heavier man.
"Though a fat lot of good it does when we never know what's bothering
you, and don't have the time to work on it even if we did know."

"In short," said a third man who failed to identify himself, "you may
consider yourself as the driver of one of those midget rocket racers.
Do they still have them on Earth? Good. You are the driver, and we
here in this room are the mechanics waiting in your pit. If anything
goes wrong, you can pull out of the race temporarily and have it
repaired. But in this particular race there is no pulling out: all
repairs are strictly of a first-aid nature and must be done while you
continue whatever you are doing. If you break your finger and find a
splint appearing on it miraculously, don't say you weren't warned."

"Best of luck to you, young man," said the psychotherapist.

"Here we go," said the doctor, finding the large vein on the inside of
Temple's forearm and plunging a needle into it.

Temple's senses whirled instantly, but as his vision clouded he
thought he saw a large, complex device swing down from the ceiling and
bathe his head in warming radiation. He blinked, squinted, could see
nothing but a swirling, cloudy opacity.

* * * * *

Approximately two seconds later, Sophia Androvna Petrovitch watched as
the white-gowned comrade tied a rubber strap around her arm, waited
for the vein to swell with blood, then forced a needle in through its
thick outer layer. Was that a nozzle overhead? No, rather a lens, for
from it came amber warmth ... which soon faded, with everything else,
into thick, churning fog....

Temple was abruptly aware of running, plunging headlong and blindly
through the fiercest storm he had ever seen. Gusts of wind whipped at
him furiously. Rain cascaded down in drenching torrents. Foliage,
brambles, branches struck against his face; mud sucked at his feet.
Big animal shapes lumbered by in the green gloom, as frightened by the
storm as was Temple.

His head darted this way and that, his eyes could see the gnarl