y
inside me.

I went to another doctor and asked for Stabilizine. "Perhaps you need a
checkup," he suggested.

That was the last thing I wanted and I said so. He, too, shrugged
resignedly and made out my prescription for the harmless drug. After
that the hammer of pain did not strike again but often I could feel it
brush by me. Each time my self-administered dosage had to be increased.

Eventually my equations stopped tying together in my mind. I would stare
at the calculation sheets for hours at a time, asking myself why _x_
should be here or integral operation there. The truth could not be
avoided: my mind could no longer grasp truth.

I went, in grudging defeat, to Erics. "You have to win," I said and
described my experiences.

"Some things are inevitable," he nodded solemnly, "and some are not.
This may solve all your problems."

"Not _all_," I hoped aloud.

Marla went with me to hospital. She realized the danger I was in but put
the best possible face on it. Her courage and support made all the
difference and I went into the second matter chamber, ready for whatever
fate awaited me.

Nothing happened. I came out of the chamber all protoplast except for
the spinal zone. Yet I was still Treb Hawley. As the coma faded away,
the last equation faded in, completely meaningful and soon followed by
all the leads I could handle for the next few years.

Psychophysiology was in an uproar over my success. "Man can now be _all_
protoplast," some said. Others as vehemently insisted some tiny but
tangible chromosome-organ link to the past must remain. For my part it
all sounded very academic; I was well again.

There _was_ one unhappy moment when I applied for the new Centauri
Expedition. "Too much of a risk," the Consulting Board told me. "Not
that you aren't in perfect condition but there are unknown, untested
factors and out in space they might--mind you, we just say might--prove
disadvantageous." They all looked embarrassed and kept their eyes off
me, preferring to concentrate on the medals lined up across the table
that were to be my consolation prize.

I was disconsolate at first and would look longingly up at the stars
which were now, perhaps forever, beyond my reach. But my sons were going
out there and, for some inexplicable reason, that gave me great solace.
Then, too, Earth was still young and beautiful and so was Marla. I still
had the full capacity to enjoy these blessings.

* * *