"I guessed," Stanton said. "What is it?" He flexed his muscles under the caress of the hot, moist currents in the box. He wondered why it was so important that the psychologist interrupt him while he was relaxing after strenuous exercise. Yoritomo looked excited, in spite of his calm. And yet Stanton knew that there couldn't be anything urgent or Yoritomo would have acted differently. It was relatively unimportant now, anyway, Stanton thought. Having made his decision to act on his own had changed his reaction to the decisions of others. Yoritomo leaned forward in his chair, his thin lips in an excited smile, his black-irised eyes sparkling. "I had to come tell you. The sheer, utter beauty of it is too much to contain. Three times in a row was almost absolute, Bart; the probability that our hypothesis is correct was computed as straight nines to seven decimals. But now! The fourth time! Straight nines to _twelve_ decimals!" Scanton lifted an eyebrow. "Your Oriental calm is deserting you, George. I'm not reading you." Yoritomo's smile became broader. "Ah! Sorry. I refer to the theory we have been discussing--about the memory of the Nipe. You know?" Stanton knew. Dr. Yoritomo was, in effect, one of his training instructors. _Advanced Alien Psychology,_ Stanton thought; _Seminar Course. The Mental Whys & Wherefores of the Nipe, or How to Outthink the Enemy in Twelve Easy Lessons. Instructor: Dr. George Yoritomo._ After six years of watching the recorded actions of the Nipe, Yoritomo had evolved a theory about the kind of mentality that lay behind the four baleful violet eyes in that alien head. Now he evidently had proof of that theory. He was smiling and rubbing his long, bony hands together. For George Yoritomo, that was the equivalent of hysterical excitement. "We have been able to predict the behavior of the Nipe!" he said. "For the fourth time in succession!" "Great. But how does that fit in with that rule you once told me about? You know, the one about experimental animals." "Ah, yes. The Harvard Law. 'A genetically standardized strain, under precisely controlled laboratory conditions, when subjected to carefully calibrated stimuli, will behave as it damned well pleases.' Yes. Very true. "But an animal could not do otherwise, could it? Only as it pleases. And it could not please to behave as something it is not, could it?" "Draw me a picture," Stanton said. "I mean that any organism is limited in its choice of behavior. A hamster, for instance, cannot choose to behave in the manner of a Rhesus monkey. A dog cannot choose to react as a mouse would. If I prick a rat with a needle, it may squeal, or bite, or jump--but it will not bark. Never. Nor will it leap up to a trapeze, hang by its tail, and chatter curses at me. Never.