I quickly examined the hoods, heavy things on maneuverable frames. They could almost have been cast from the same mold. "They're O.K.," I said. "Then I want to get it over with now," Dr. Moriss said. "What!" I exclaimed. "Yes. Now," he said. "The sooner the better. Paula isn't expecting me to do it this way." I took a deep breath. My eyes studied the straps to be buckled around the robot in such a way that it could only release itself when it became activated by a calm intelligence, and the straps fastened into the vacant table that could be buckled and unbuckled the same way, that would keep the body from throwing itself around violently under the wild play of neutral forces set loose as the mind was plucked from the living brain. "All right," I said, my voice sounding queer and remote to me. "Lie down and I'll strap you up." As he climbed onto the vacant table my eyes searched the room frantically for something _to cut the connection between that blue and that red wire_. * * * * * "I'm ready," the doctor said, relaxing on the table with no more apparent concern than a man getting into a barber chair for a shave. I buckled the straps with fumbling fingers, my thoughts racing. There was not a tool in sight anywhere. Nothing that could cut that wire. "We forgot to warm up the tubes!" Dr. Moriss exclaimed. "You aren't as calm as you pretend to be," I chided, hiding the thrill of triumph that rose in me. "As soon as I finish buckling the straps on you and your future receptacle I'll warm up the circuit." "Thanks, January," he said with relief. I finished with him and went to the robot, the robot so soon to be activated with the doctor's intelligence. I buckled the straps about its inert form exactly the way I had done with the living. "Why don't you turn the current on before doing that?" Dr. Moriss asked. I smiled at him slowly. "Plenty of time," I said. "What do you mean by that?" he asked. His eyes were suddenly sharp with suspicion. "Oh, nothing," I said, shrugging. "A minute won't make a big difference will it?" He studied me closely. My heart was beating against my ribs. "I've changed my mind," he said abruptly, his fingers fumbling with the buckle that would release his arms. "I'll wait until later to do this." "No you don't!" I said, my calm deserting me. I leaped around the tables. His fingers were trying desperately to open the buckle that would free his arms. I slapped them away and stood over him. "This is for those hours of torture," I said, leering into his blank eyes. My fist crashed against the side of his jaw just in front of the ear. He sank back, limp and unconscious.