d how good most people are at it, now that they're
used to it. You start into a line of helicopters. All at once, you
realize that the guy coming is really in a hurry. He's got to get
somewhere, fast. So, you let him go by. The next fellow's not going to
be in any tearing rush. He'll let you in, and cheer you on your way.

"You feel like being left alone? Nobody'll even notice you. But if you
feel like talking, half a dozen total strangers'll find something in
common with you. And they'll discuss it. Honey, you'll be surprised how
much you've missed. Get your mentacom. Let's take a little shopping
trip."

* * * * *

"And here's one of our more difficult cases. But he's coming along
nicely." Dr. Moran pointed through the one-way window.

"Name's Howard Morely. He used to be a district leader, under the
bureaucracy. But along in the last few weeks, just before the change, he
got into some sort of scrape. They questioned him, and declared him
unfit for service. Put him out on a pension." He pulled at an ear.

"Matter of fact, I understand his case had quite a deal to do with the
change--sort of triggered it. They tell me it sort of pointed up the
fallacies of the bureaucracy." He shrugged.

"But that's unimportant now, I guess. He almost receded into complete
paranoia. Had a virtually complete case of empathic paralysis when he
came to us. Simply no conception of any other person's point of view,
and a hatred of people that was fantastic. But he's nearly normal now."

The visiting psychiatrist nodded. "I've seen the type, of course. We
have a number of them, too. You say this new technique was successfully
used in his case?"

"Yes. We had doubts of it, too. Seemed too simple. Sure, we're all
familiar with the mentacoms by now. Wouldn't be without my own. But the
idea of a field generator so powerful as to force clear impressions into
a crippled mind like his, without completely destroying that mind,
seemed a little fantastic." He shrugged.

"In this case, though, it was a last resort, so we tried it. He resisted
the field for days. Simply sat in his cell and stared at the walls. We
were almost ready to give up when one of the operators finally got
through to him. Know what his first visualization was?"

The visitor shook his head and laughed. "I could try a guess, I
suppose," he said, "but my chances would be something less than one in a
thousand million."

Moran grinned. "You're