Yes, sir? Help me, doctor. I want to go home. I want to see popcorn exploding into a buttered avalanche inside a glass cube, I want to roller skate, I want to climb into the old cool wet ice-wagon and go _chikk-chikk-chikk_ on the ice with a sharp pick, I want to take long sweating hikes in the country, see big brick buildings and bright-faced people, fight the old gang, anything but this--_awful_! The psychiatrist rubs his chin. "All right, son. You can go back to Earth, now, tonight." Again the captain explodes. "You can't tell him _that_. We're landing on Mars _today_!" The psychiatrist pats down the captain patiently. "Please, captain. Well, Halloway, back to New York for you. How does it sound?" I'm not not so scared now. We're going down on the moving ladder and here is the psychiatrist's cubicle. He's pouring lights into my eyes. They revolve like stars on a disc. Lots of strange machines around, attachments to my head, my ears. Sleepy. Oh, so sleepy. Like under warm water. Being pushed around. Laved. Washed. Quiet. Oh, gosh. Sleepy. "--listen to me, Halloway--" Sleepy. Doctor's talking. Very soft, like feathers. Soft, soft. "--you're going to land on earth. No matter what they tell you, you're landing on Earth ... no matter what happens you'll be on Earth ... everything you see and do will be like on Earth ... remember that ... remember that ... you won't be afraid because you'll be on Earth ... remember that ... over and over ... you'll land on Earth in an hour ... home ... home again ... no matter what anyone says...." Oh, yes, sir, home again. Sleepy. Home again. Drifting, sleeping, oh thank you, sir, thank you from the bottom of my drowsy, sleepy soul. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Sleepy. Drifting. * * * * * I'm awake! Hey, everybody, come look! Here comes Earth! Right at us, like a green moss ball off a bat! Coming at us on a curve! "Check stations! Mars landing!" "Get into bulgers! Test atmosphere!" Get into your _what_ did he say? "Your baseball uniform, Halloway. Your baseball uniform." Yes, sir. My baseball uniform. Where'd I put it? Over here. Head into, legs into, feet into it. There. Ha, this is great! Pitch her in here, old boy, old boy! _Smack!_ Yow! Yes, sir, it's over in that metal locker. I'll take it out. Head, arms, legs into it--I'm dressed. Baseball uniform. Ha! This is great! Pitch 'er in here, ole boy, ole boy! _Smack!_ Yow! "Adjust bulger helmets, check oxygen." What? "Put on your catcher's mask, Halloway." Oh. The mask slides down over my face. Like that. The captain comes rushing up, eyes hot green and angry. "Doctor, what's this infernal nonsense?" "You wanted Halloway able to do his work, didn't you, captain?" "Yes, but what in hell've you done to him?"