n and had become a little impatient of them.

The freckled hand of Mellish patted his arm. "We do things different
over here," he said and Bondy chimed in. "Or rather The Brain does. Just
lie down on that table, Dr. Lee, and relax. We're going to enjoy a
little movie together, that's all."

* * * * *

Lee did as he was bidden, but hesitant and suspiciously. He hated
medical exams, especially those where parts of one's body were hooked up
to a lot of impressive machinery. Of this there obviously was a good
deal. The two medics seemed determined literally to wall him in with
gadgetry. From the ceiling they lowered a huge, heavy-looking disk; not
lights, but more like an electro-magnet beset with protruding needles.
Lee couldn't see the cables but hoped they were strong, for the thing
weighed at least a ton and, overhanging him, looked much more ominous
than the sword of Damocles. They wheeled a silver screen to the foot of
the table and batteries of what appeared to be thermo-therapeutic
equipment to both sides. He wasn't being hooked up to anything, but
there was much activity with testing of circuits, button-pushings and
shiftings of relay-levers. And then all of a sudden lights went out in
the room.

"Say, what is the meaning of all this?" Lee raised his head uneasily
from the hard cushion. All he could see now were arrays of luminous
dials and the faint radiations from electronic tubes filtering through
metal screens inside the apparatus which fenced him in. From behind his
head a suave voice--was it Bondy's or Mellish's answered out of the
dark.

"This is a subconscious analysis and mental reactions test, Dr. Lee.
It's an entirely new method made possible only by The Brain. It has
tremendous possibilities; they might include your own work as well."

"Oh Lord," Lee moaned. "Something like psychoanalysis? Have you got it
mechanized by now? How terrible."

There was a low chuckle from the other side of his head; they both
appeared to have drawn up chairs beyond his field of vision. Lee didn't
like it; he liked none of it, in fact. He felt trapped.

"No, Dr. Lee," said the chuckling voice. "This isn't psychoanalysis in
the old sense at all. You are not exposed to any fanciful human
interpretation, and it isn't wholly mechanical either as you seem to
think. The Brain is going to show you certain images and by way of
spontaneous psychosomatic reaction you are going to produce certain