"Being a master," Dodd said. "There shouldn't be masters. Or slaves. Just--beings, able to do what they want to do ... what makes me any better than the Alberts, anyhow?" "The Belbis beam, for one thing," Albin said. "Position, power, protection, punishment. What makes anybody better than anybody else?" "But that's the point--don't you see?" Albin stood upright, massaging his arm. "What I see is a case of worry," he said, "and as a doctor I have certain responsibilities. I've got to take care of that case of worries, and I'm not going to take no for an answer." "Leave me alone," Dodd said. "Just do me a favor. Leave me alone." "Come with me," Albin said. "This once. Look--what can you lose? Just once can't hurt you--you can do all the brooding you want to do some other time. Give me a present. Come to the party with me." "I don't like parties." "And I don't like going alone," Albin said. "So do me a favor." "Where is it?" Dodd asked after a second. Albin beamed. "Psych division," he said. "Come on." * * * * * The metal door was festooned with paper drapery in red and blue. Dodd turned before they got to it, standing about five feet down the corridor. "How did you find out about a party in Psych division?" he asked. Albin shrugged. "I'm an active type," he said. "I've got friends all over. You'd be surprised how many friends a man can have, Dodd, if he goes to parties. If he meets people instead of brooding." "All right," Dodd said. "I'm here, aren't I? You've convinced me--stop the propaganda." "Sure." Albin went up to the door and knocked. From inside they could hear a dim babel of voices. After a second he knocked again, more loudly. A voice rose above the hum. "Who's there?" "A friend," Albin said. "The password is Haenlingen-on-fire." The voice broke into laughter. "Oh," it said. It was now distinguishingly a female voice. "It's you, Cendar. But hold it down on the Haenlingen stuff: she's supposed to be arriving." "At a party?" Albin said. "She's a hundred and twelve--older than that. What does she want with parties? Don't be silly." The door opened. A slim, blonde girl stood by it, her mouth still grinning. "Cendar, I mean it," she said. "You watch out. One of these days you're going to get into trouble." Behind her the hum had risen to a chorus of mad clatter, conversation, laughter, song--the girl dragged Albin and Dodd inside and shut the door. "I'm always in trouble," Albin was saying. "It keeps life interesting." But it was hard to hear him, hard to hear any single voice in the swell of noise. "Thank God for soundproofing," the girl said. "We can do whatever we like and there's no noise out there." "The drapes give you away," Albin said. "Let the drapes give us away," the girl said. "We're entitled to have quiet little gatherings, right? And who knows what goes on behind the drapes?"