Harker nodded. It was an impressive set-up. The group turned into the administrative building. It was every bit as old-fashioned on the inside as outside. The lighting was, of all things, by incandescent bulbs; the air-conditioners were noisily evident, and the windows did not have opaquing controls. Harker followed the other three into a small, untidy, book-lined room--and, suddenly, he realized that Dr. Raymond was taking charge. "This is my office," Raymond said. "Won't you be seated?" Harker sat. He reached for his cigarettes and Raymond interjected immediately, "Sorry, but no smoking is permitted anywhere on the laboratory grounds." "Of course." Raymond sat back. Klaus and Lurie flanked him. In a quiet, terribly sane voice, Raymond said, "I think Dr. Lurie has explained the essentials of our situation." "All I know is that you claim to have perfected a process for restoring the dead to life, and that you want me to act as legal adviser and public spokesman. Is that right?" "Indeed. The fee will be $600 per week for as long as your services will be required." "For which you'll insist on my full-time participation, I expect." "We have confidence in your ability, Mr. Harker. You may apportion your time as you see fit." Harker nodded slowly. "On the surface, I don't see any objections. But naturally I'll expect a thorough demonstration of what you've achieved so far, if I'm to take on any kind of work for you." Levelly Raymond said, "We would hardly think of employing you unless we could take you into our fullest confidence. Come with me." He opened an inner door and stepped through; Harker walked around the desk to follow him, with Klaus and Lurie bringing up the rear. They now were in a large room with the faint iodoform odor Harker associated with hospitals; it was brightly, almost starkly lit, and Harker saw two lab tables, one empty, one occupied by a dog, both surrounded by looming complex mechanical devices. A bearded, grave-looking young man in the white garb of a surgeon stood by the dog-laden table. "Are we ready, Dr. Raymond?" Raymond nodded. To Harker he said, "This is Dr. Vogel. One of our surgeons. He will anesthetize the dog you see and kill it." Harker moistened his lips nervously. He knew better than to protest, but the idea of casually killing animals in the name of science touched off a host of involuntary repugnance-reactions in him. He watched stonily as Vogel fitted a mask over the dog's face--it was a big, shaggy animal of indeterminate breed--and attached instruments to its body. "We're recording heartbeat and respiration," Raymond murmured. "The anesthetic will gradually overcome the dog. In case you're concerned, the animal feels no pain in any part of this experiment." Some moments passed; finally Vogel peered at his dials, nodded, and pronounced the dog in full narcosis. Harker fought against the inner tension that gripped him. "Dr. Vogel will now bring death to the dog," Raymond said.