I jerked the rod from my head, my ears still ringing with the shrill alarm. The effect of the rods was like reality itself, but intensified, all attention focused single-mindedly on the experience at hand. I thought of the entertainment potentialities of the idea. You could kill a tiger, ride an airplane down in flames, face the heavyweight champion----I wondered about the stronger sensations, like pain and fear. Would they seem as real as the impulse to check the whatchamacallits or tighten up your cortical thingamajigs? I tried another rod. _At the sound of the apex-tone, I racked instruments, walked, not ran, to the nearest transfer-channel_---- Another: _Having assumed duty as Alert Officer, I reported first to coordination Control via short-line, and confirmed rapport_-- These were routine SOP's covering simple situations aboard ship. I skipped a few, tried again: _Needing a xivometer, I keyed instruction-complex One, followed with the code_-- Three rods further along, I got this: _The situation falling outside my area of primary conditioning, I reported in corpo to Technical Briefing, Level Nine, Section Four, Sub-section Twelve, Preliminary. I recalled that it was now necessary to supply my activity code ... my activity code ... my activity code ... (A sensation of disorientation grew; confused images flickered like vague background-noise; then a clear voice cut across the confusion:)_ YOU HAVE SUFFERED PARTIAL PERSONALITY-FADE. DO NOT BE ALARMED. SELECT A GENERAL BACKGROUND ORIENTATION ROD FROM THE NEAREST EMERGENCY RACK. ITS LOCATION IS.... _I was moving along the stacks, to pause in front of a niche where a U-shaped plastic strip was clamped to the wall. I removed it, fitted it to my head--(Then:) I was moving along the stacks, to pause in front of a niche_-- I was leaning against the wall, my head humming. The red stick lay on the floor at my feet. That last bit had been potent: something about a general background briefing-- "Hey, Foster!" I called, "I think I've got something...." He appeared from the stacks. * * * * * "As I see it," I said, "this background briefing should tell us all we need to know about the ship; then we can plan our next move more intelligently. We'll know what we're doing." I took the thing from the wall, just as I had seemed to do in the phantom scene the red rod had projected for me. "These things make me dizzy," I said, handing it to Foster. "Anyway you're the logical one to try it." He took the plastic shape, went to the reclining seat at the near end of the library hall, and settled himself. "I have an idea this one will hit harder than the others," he said. He fitted the clamp to his head and ... instantly his eyes glazed; he slumped back, limp. "Foster!" I yelled. I jumped forward, started to pull the plastic piece from his head, then hesitated. Maybe Foster's abrupt reaction was standard procedure--but I didn't like it much.