"The principal access to that part of your brain we're concerned with," said Dimanche. "We can't photomeasure your brain the way it was originally done, but we can investigate it remotely. The results will be simplified, naturally. Something like a scale model as compared to the original. A more apt comparison might be that of a relief map to an actual locality." "Investigate it remotely?" muttered Cassal. A horrible suspicion touched his consciousness. He jerked away from that touch. "What does that mean?" "What it sounds like. Stimulus and response. From that I can construct an accurate chart of the proper portion of your brain. Our probing instruments will be crude out of necessity, but effective." "I've already visualized those probing instruments," said Cassal worriedly. "Maybe we'd better work first on the official engraving and the electron stamp, while I'm still fresh. I have a feeling...." "Excellent suggestion," said Dimanche. Cassal gathered the articles slowly. His lighter would burn and it would also cut. He needed a heavy object to pound with. A violent irritant for the nerve endings. Something to freeze his flesh.... Dimanche interrupted: "There are also a few glands we've got to pick up. See if there's a stimi in the room." "Stimi? Oh yes, a stimulator. Never use the damned things." But he was going to. The next few hours weren't going to be pleasant. Nor dull, either. Life could be difficult on Godolph. * * * * * As soon as the Life Stage Cordon came down, Cassal called for a doctor. The native looked at him professionally. "Is this a part of the Earth life process?" he asked incredulously. Gingerly, he touched the swollen and lacerated leg. Cassal nodded wearily. "A matter of life and death," he croaked. "If it is, then it is," said the doctor, shaking his head. "I, for one, am glad to be a Godolphian." "To each his own habitat," Cassal quoted the motto of the hotel. Godolphians were clumsy, good-natured caricatures of seals. There was nothing wrong with their medicine, however. In a matter of minutes he was feeling better. By the time the doctor left, the swelling had subsided and the open wounds were fast closing. Eagerly, he examined the identification tab. As far as he could tell, it was perfect. What the scanner would reveal was, of course, another matter. He had to check that as best he could without exposing himself. Services came up to the suite right after he laid the intercom down. A machine was placed over his head and the identification slipped into the slot. The code on the tab was noted; the machine hunted and found the corresponding brain area. Structure was mapped, impulses recorded, scrambled, converted into a ray of light which danced over a film. The identification tab was similarly recorded. There was now a means of comparison.