He realized the chemist had done him a favor. The selfish thing would have been to keep the secret and the boon all to himself; instead, he'd given Amos the choice. But what was the choice? Suppressing the drug would cost him his job. There was no doubt about that. He was standing with his back to the door when he heard it open. He turned and faced Detrick's annoyed frown. "Amos, we can't keep this man waiting. He's--" All of Amos' frustration and the new burden coalesced into rage. He ran toward Detrick. "You baboon-faced huckster!" he yelled. "Get out! Get out! I'll tell you when you can come in here!" He barely caught his upraised fist in time. Detrick stood petrified, his face ludicrous. Then he came to life, ducked out, and pulled the door shut behind him. Amos waited no longer; if he had to decide, he wanted the data first-hand. He spread out the file Barnes had left him and looked through it for dosages. Apparently it wasn't critical, so he poured a little of the powder into a tumbler, added water and threw it down. There was a mild alkaline taste, which he washed out of his mouth with more water. Then he sat down to wait. * * * * * A monotone seemed to be rattling off trivia; almost faster than he could grasp it, even though it was in his head and not in his ears: "Paris green/calcium acetoarsenite/beetle invasion Texan cotton/paint pigment/obsolete/should eliminate/compensation claim/man probably faking infection/Detrick likes because we only source/felt like hitting him when we argued about it/correspondence Buffalo last year/they say keep/check how use as poison/damned wife--" The last thought shocked his intellect awake. "Hey!" Intellect demanded. "What's going on here?" "Oh; you've broken through," said Unconscious. "That was fast. Fifteen minutes and twenty-three seconds since you drank it. Probable error, one-third second. I've only been awake a few minutes myself. Minute/sixty per hour/twenty-four hours day/days getting shorter/September/have raincoat in car/wife wants new car/raincoat sweats plasticizer/stinks/Hyatt used camphor--" "Hold up a minute!" cried Intellect. "You want me to stop scanning?" "Is that what you're doing? Scanning what?" "Memory banks, of course. Don't you remember the book we read three years ago? 'Human brain estimated--' Oh, all right; I'll slow down. You could follow me better if you'd let me grow some permanent direct connections." "Am I stopping you?" "Well, not you, exactly. I'll show you." Unconscious began directing the growth of certain nerve tendrils in the brain. Amos could only follow it vaguely. "Fear!" screamed a soundless voice. "Stop!" "What was that?" Intellect asked, startled. "That was Id. He always fights any improvements, and I can't override him." "Can _I_?" "Of course; that's mainly what you're for. Wait till I get these connections finished and you'll see the whole setup." "FEAR!" shrieked Id. "STOP! NO CHANGE!"