regrettably, is a wrench to the mind. Lifting it results
in amnesia, which is a psychological defense against disturbing
memories."

"I walked into this, don't forget," Clocker reminded him. "I didn't know
what I was getting into, but I was ready to take anything."

"That," said the little man, "is the unknown factor. Yes, you did submit
voluntarily and you were ready to take anything--but were you
psychologically prepared for this? We don't know. We _think_ there may
be no characteristic wrench--"

"Meaning I won't have amnesia?"

"Meaning that you _may_ not. We cannot be certain until a test has been
made."

"Then," said Clocker, "I want a deal. It's Zelda I want; you know that,
at any rate. You say you're after a record of us in case we bump ourself
off, but you also say you'd like us not to. I'll buy that. I don't want
us to, either, and there's a chance that we can stop it together."

"An extremely remote one," Mr. Calhoun stated.

"Maybe, but a chance. Now if you let me out and I'm the first case that
don't get amnesia, I can tell the world about all this. I might be able
to steer other guys, scientists and decent politicians, into coming here
to get the dope straighter than I could. Maybe that'd give Earth a
chance to cop a pardon on getting extinct. Even if it don't work, it's
better than hanging around the radio waiting for the results."

* * * * *

Dr. Harding hissed on his glasses and wiped them thoughtfully, an
adopted mannerism, obviously, because he seemed to see as well without
them. "You have a point, Mr. Locke, but it would mean losing your
contribution to our archives."

"Well, which is more important?" Clocker argued. "Would you rather have
my record than have us save ourself?"

"Both," said Mr. Calhoun. "We see very little hope of your success,
while we regard your knowledge as having important sociological
significance. A very desirable contribution."

The others agreed.

"Look, I'll come back if I lame out," Clocker desperately offered. "You
can pick me up any time you want. But if I make headway, you got to let
Zelda go, too."

"A reasonable proposition," said Dr. Harding. "I call for a vote."

They took one. The best Clocker could get was a compromise.

"We will lift our control," Mr. Calhoun said, "for a suitable time. If
you can arouse a measurable opposition to racial suicide--_measurable_,
mind you; we're not requiring that you reverse the le