Alan swung on him without warning, a lashing buffet that could have broken a lesser man's neck; Brave took it square on the side of his jaw and staggered back, shaking his head. Then he caught Alan's coat as the smaller man leaped for the door. He swept him around by the coat like a yo-yo on a string, and judging his blow as carefully and dispassionately as an old champion measures an upstart contender, he rammed his big fist into Alan's belly just below the ribs. It jolted Alan back and doubled him over and made him blind with agony. He could not breathe. There was no air left in his lungs and he could not suck any into them. He was going to die. He wanted to die. He was dying. Brave dropped him, unresisting, into the chair and tied him down with a few turns of a light rope. "Son," he said, "I know that wasn't you that socked me, it was whatever creeping louse got to you last night. I'll apologize later for smacking you ... if you want me to." He went to his machines and began to turn dials and adjust gauges, and move pointers on the graduated scales. He tipped Alan's head up and clamped it firmly in the vise-like apparatus which rose from the chair's back. Alan was groggy, his breath now hissing in and out between clenched teeth. Brave went on talking. "I could have knocked you out, and it wouldn't have hurt nearly as much; but I wanted you awake. That pain may help, too. Rob Pope was saying something the other day about intense pain being an aid in nullifying the effects of hypnosis, when allied, that is, with counter-hypnosis. We'll see. Take it easy, pup." Your technical training could be a deterrent factor, thought Brave; you may be able to oppose the mechanical-visual patterns successfully. I hope not. It doesn't seem to me that there's a lot of time left to us, and I want you back on my side. * * * * * He focused the lens of one machine on Alan's half-open eyes and pressed a button. Light began to flicker across the agonized face, its color changing from second to second. Brave cut in the other beam and white light that shifted its form even as the first shifted color lanced through the blue and red and yellow. Alan shut his eyes, but immediately opened them again. "You can't resist it," said Brave quietly. "You don't want to resist it. You like the pretty lights." The voice was an important stimulus too. "Your mind is conditioned to taking orders, isn't it, son? Somebody's been giving you evil commands. You don't like that. You'd rather listen to me." The weird patterns of the light beams held Alan's dull gaze. He was already adrift in a flashing vacuum. Brave's voice came to him slurred and without sense. Gradually he began to hear the words. "Somebody hypnotized you last night, didn't they, son?" "Yes. I think they did." "Who did it?" "I don't know. A tall man." "Do you know his name?" "I couldn't see his face very well." "What did he tell you?"