"He doesn't seem particularly upset," Colin mused, watching the screen on which the lean figure of Colonel Harkins paced. "Nervous," Banning said. "Not as badly as the situation would warrant. I don't think it's getting through to him. He's apathetic." "How did he react to seeing his wife?" Banning asked. "Bewildered him. Gave him a hell of a headache." "That all?" "That's all." "What now?" Colin sighed. "Get through to him some way." He tamped tobacco in his pipe, his eyes still on the spyscreen. Harkins was now sitting on the bed, his hands immobile on his knees, staring straight ahead. "How do you intend to do that?" Colin reached for a pad of paper and began scribbling, talking as he wrote. "How are you feeding him?" "Double door compartment. Put the food in, close the outside door, open the inside." "Put this on his tray next time, will you?" Colin handed the general a slip of paper. On it was written a single sentence: _Richard Harkins, I want to talk to you._ "All right," Banning said, reading it. "He's due for lunch in about an hour." * * * * * On the screen, Colin could see the light come on over the food compartment, and the microphones picked up the sound of a bell. Harkins, who had not moved from the bed since his initial examination of the cubicle, looked up. The inner door of the compartment opened, revealing a tray with several steaming dishes, a pitcher of milk and a pot of coffee on a self-warm pad. Harkins stood up. He looked at the food, walked over to the tiny open door and picked up the tray. Calmly he carried it over to the table, sat down, unfolded the napkin and put it in his lap. "My God," Banning whispered, "you'd think he'd eaten this way all his life." "Apathetic," Colin said shortly. "He refuses to admit anything unusual." "How the hell could he rationalize losing consciousness and waking up in a windowless room?" Colin shrugged. "Brain's a funny thing," was his only comment. His eyes were fixed intently on the screen. Suddenly Harkins noticed the slip of paper tucked under the corner of one of the dishes. Colin leaned forward, took his pipe out of his mouth. Harkins withdrew the paper and looked at it. Even on the screen, Colin could see the writing, almost make out the words. Harkins stared briefly at the paper, turned it over and looked at the other side in puzzlement. He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. Finally he gave a little shrug, put the message back on the tray and resumed eating. Colin sat heavily back in his chair. He sighed. "He didn't even see it," Banning said disgustedly. "He saw the paper, not the message." "Why?" "Personal communication. It implies the existence of another communicating--entity. He won't admit it." Colin re-lit his pipe. "Ah, hell!" "I guess we'll have to take the direct approach," Colin said thoughtfully. * * * * *