Harker nodded slowly. He had a fairly good idea of whom the three others were, judging from the nature of their reactions. He himself had made no reaction yet, either visceral or intellectual. A year ago, perhaps, he might have reacted differently--but a year ago he had been a different person. He said, "You can expect tremendous opposition to any such invention. I can guess that there'll be theological opposition, and plenty of hysterical public outbursts. And the implications are immense--a new set of medical ethics, for one thing. There'll be a need for legislation covering--ah--resurrection." He drummed on the desk with his fingertips, "Whoever agrees to serve as your adviser is taking on a giant assignment." "We're aware of that," Lurie said. "The pay is extremely good. We can discuss salary later, if you like." "I haven't said I'm accepting," Harker reminded him crisply. "For all I know right now this is just a pipe-dream. Wishful thinking on the part of a bunch of underpaid scientists." Lurie smiled winningly. "Naturally we would not think of asking you to make a decision until you've seen our lab. If you think you're interested, a visit could be arranged sometime this week or next--" Harker closed his eyes for a moment. He said, "If I accepted, I'd be exposing myself to public abuse. I'd become a storm-center, wouldn't I?" "You should be used to that, Mr. Harker. As a former national political figure--" The _former_ stung. Harker had a sudden glaring vision of his rise through the Nat-Lib Party ranks, his outstanding triumph in the 2024 mayoralty contest, his natural ascension to the gubernatorial post four years later--and then, the thumping fall, the retirement into private life, the painful packing-away of old aspirations and dreams-- He nodded wearily. "Yes, I know what it's like to be on the spot. I was just wondering whether it's worthwhile to get back on the firing line again." He moistened his lips. "Look, Dr. Lurie, I have to think about this whole business some more. Is there someplace I can call you this afternoon?" "I'm staying at the Hotel Manhattan," Lurie said. He retrieved his calling-card with surprising deftness and scribbled a phone number on it, then a room number, and handed it back to Harker. "I'll be there most of the afternoon, if you'd like to call." Harker pocketed the card. "I'll let you know," he said. Lurie rose with typical lack of grace and shambled toward the door. Harker pressed the _open_ button and the two halves of the door moved into their slots. Rising from the desk, he accompanied Lurie through the door and into the outer office. The scientist's stringy frame towered five or six inches over Harker's compact, still-lean bulk. Harker glanced up at the strangely soft eyes. "I'll call you later, Dr. Lurie." "I hope so. Thank you for listening, Governor."