n't read much except the sport sheets, but I got an idea what's
coming up," Clocker continued, "and it's a long shot that any country
can finish in the money. We'd like to stop war for good, all of us.
Little guys who do the fighting and the dying. Yeah, and lots of big
guys, too. But we can't do it alone."

"That's precisely our point," said Calhoun.

"I mean us back on Earth. People are afraid, but they just don't know
for sure that we can knock ourself off. Between these catatonics and me,
we could tell them what it's all about. I notice you got people from all
over the world here, all getting along fine because they have a job to
do and no time to hate each other. Well, it could be like that on Earth.
You let us go back and you'll see a selling job on making it like up
here like you never saw before."

Mr. Calhoun and Dr. Harding looked at each other and around the table.
Nobody seemed willing to answer.

Mr. Calhoun finally sighed and got out of his big chair. "Mr. Locke,
besides striving for international understanding, we have experimented
in the manner you suggest. We released many of our human associates to
tell what our science predicts on the basis of probability. A human
psychological mechanism defeated us."

"Yeah?" Clocker asked warily. "What was that?"

"Protective amnesia. They completely and absolutely forgot everything
they had learned here."

* * * * *

Clocker slumped a bit. "I know. I talked to some of these 'cured'
catatonics--people you probably sprung because you got all you wanted
from them. They didn't remember anything." He braced again. "Look, there
has to be a way out. Maybe if you snatch these politicians in all the
countries, yank them up here, they couldn't stumble us into a war."

"Examine your history," said Dr. Harding sadly, "and you will find that
we have done this experimentally. It doesn't work. There are always
others, often more unthinking, ignorant, stupid or vicious, ready to
take their places."

Clocker looked challengingly at every member of the board of directors
before demanding, "What are the odds on me remembering?"

"You are our first volunteer," said a little man at the side of the
table. "Any answer we give would be a guess."

"All right, guess."

"We have a theory that your psychic censor might not operate. Of course,
you realize that's only a theory--"

"That ain't all I don't realize. What's it mean?"

"Our control,