It was ten o'clock in the morning when Irene Conner pushed open the door without knocking and strolled casually into Earl's laboratory. She saw him at the far end of the room, hunched over with his elbows on the window sill, his back to her. "Hi, Earl," she called cheerfully. "Want to have mid-morning coffee with me?" "No," Earl said without moving. "You sound tired," Irene said, going over to stand beside him. "Or is it spring fever--more accurately the summer doldrums." "Neither," he said, glancing up at her with tired eyes. "I just want to be left alone. I'm thinking." He straightened up with a deep sigh. "Why don't you get Basil to have coffee with you?" "That jerk?" Irene said. "He gets in my hair." "Like you get in mine?" Earl said. "That was cruel." "Sorry," Earl relented. "I didn't get much sleep last night. I've got problems. I'd much rather be left alone with them right now." Irene inspected him critically as a man might inspect his automobile. "Your eyes are bloodshot," she said. "Why not have some coffee with me and tell me your problems. Maybe I can help you." "Nobody can help me--least of all you." The phone on the desk in the corner rang. Earl went to answer it. "This is Glassman," the phone said. "I want a general staff meeting in my office at once. Tell Dr. Conner she must be there too." "Okay," Earl said. He hung up and looked at Irene. "Goat face," he explained. "General staff meeting. We're to go to his office at once." "Maybe this is it," Irene said, suddenly sober. Earl nodded. That was the way it would come. A phone call for general staff meeting. A quiet announcement that one of the scientists had at last found the ideal nerve fluid for the brain. That's all there would be to it. The greatest achievement since--if not including--the atom bomb, and the historic moment would pass without a shout--with perhaps only a tired sigh of relief, a glance of envy at the lucky one who had found it. "Well, let's get it over with," Earl said. They went into the hall and walked side by side in silence toward the back of the building where it joined the Dome. Basil joined them, for once hardly noticing Irene as he looked questioningly at Earl, who shook his head imperceptibly. They entered Dr. Glassman's office. The director was sitting behind his desk, ignoring them, pretending to be reading some typewritten papers. Earl looked around. They were all there now, he and the other nine scientists, and Dr. Glassman. Only there was something wrong with the picture. One of them should have been beaming at the others, the light of triumph in his or her eyes. Instead, the other nine reflected his own puzzled bewilderment.