He sat down and waved away Stein's wordless offer of a cup. "How would we like to take a little trip?" We. The editorial we. "Why not?" "This little trip--how would you like to go back home for awhile?" "Home?" I couldn't believe my ears, and I stared at him. He'd made a slip, and he was sorry. "I meant, back Stateside." I slumped back in my chair. "Then you heard me the first time. What's the difference?" "Quite a bit of difference. No, Stein, you stay here. We're all in this together." "Sure," I said. "Stick around. I'm the last one to find out what's going on around here." He didn't appreciate my sarcasm. "I wouldn't say that, Peter." "Forget it. What's the story?" "We want you to go back where we can run some tests, this time as comprehensive as we can arrange." I couldn't see why what we'd done wouldn't be enough. "Don't tell me you have more than the Bomb up your sleeve." No, it wasn't like that. "There aren't more than four or six that know anything but that the Bomb was set off prematurely because of motor failure on the drone. The general knowledge is that it was just another test in routine fashion. But, as I said, there are a few that know the truth. They think it desirable that you be examined scientifically, and completely." "Why?" I felt ornery. He knew it, and showed a little impatience. "Use your head, Peter. You know better than that. We know you're unique. We want to know why, and perhaps how, perhaps, your ability can be duplicated." That appealed to me. "And if you can find out what makes me tick I can go back to living like myself again?" I took his silence for assent. I had to. "Good. What do I do, and when?" He shrugged. "Nothing, yet. You'll go to ... well, let's call it college. It shouldn't take too long. A week, maybe, maybe two, or four, at the most." "Then what?" He didn't know. We'd talk about that later. Okay with me. If a doctor could find out how I was whistling chords, all well and good. If not--could I be any worse off? "Then it's settled. We'll leave today, if it can be arranged, and I feel sure it can. Robert--" to Stein--"if you'll come with me we'll try to make the necessary arrangements." Stein left, and Smith left, and I got up and looked into the mirror. I needed a shave again. * * * * * My college didn't have a laboratory worth counting when I went to school. We'd had a stadium, and a losing football team instead. Now the balding, bearded physicists sat in the front row when the appropriations were spooned out. I suppose that's all for the better. I really wouldn't know. The old fellow that met us at the front door looked like an airedale, and like an airedale he sniffed all around me before getting into combat range. "So you're Peter Miller!" "That's my name," I admitted. I wondered what all the dials and the gadgets were for. It looked to me like the front end of one of these computers I used to see in the magazines.