"It seems reasonable," Hartson Brant admitted. "The pieces fall into place nicely. But we must first accept Parnell's theory that some kind of pattern can be transmitted that will interfere with normal brain activity. If we believe it, we must also believe that the enemy is so far ahead of us in brain physiology that we are hopelessly outdistanced. I can't believe so much progress could have taken place without some word of it leaking out." Parnell Winston shrugged. "It seems incredible, Hartson. But we haven't another theory, much less a better one." "We had better make sure no one takes EEG's of the rest of us, in any case," Weiss suggested dryly. Rick added, "And don't get any haircuts until this is all straightened out!" When the meeting broke up, Rick and Scotty walked to the front porch where the girls were listening to the music of a Newark disk jockey on Barby's portable radio. "Lot of puzzled people in this neighborhood," Rick said. "Including me." "And me," Scotty agreed. "And I'll bet I know the most curious one of all." "Who?" "Cap'n Mike." Rick grinned. At least the rest of them had some information. Even Duke and Jerry had enough to know that national security was somehow involved. But the captain, who had the liveliest curiosity of all, knew the least. As Rick dropped him off in front of the old windmill, Cap'n Mike had grunted, "When you can trust me a little more, you might tell me what this was all about." Actually, Cap'n Mike's visit to the houseboat hadn't been particularly productive. He had little to add to the Coast Guard inspector's description, aside from his feeling that the houseboaters had wanted to get rid of him. Scotty asked, "Why would anyone want to disrupt the brains of the project team? Seems to me that's doing it the hard way. Assassination would be a lot easier." Rick shook his head. He had wondered about the same thing. Barby and Jan motioned for silence. They were listening to a vocalist who happened to be Barby's favorite of the moment. The boys stood silent for a few minutes; then, by unspoken agreement, turned and went back into the house. Hartson Brant came down the stairs, dressed in a suit, with white shirt and tie. Rick stared at him. "Going somewhere, Dad?" "Yes. Parnell Winston has disturbed me deeply, with the implications of his theory. I'm going to pay a call on an old friend in Newark, an associate of Chavez. I want to explore some of the electrophysiological background of his hypothesis. I won't be very late. Is there any gas in the car?" "Almost full," Scotty said. The boys went on upstairs into their adjoining rooms. For a few minutes Rick tinkered with his camera equipment, then he went back down to the library and searched the shelves for something to read. He finally settled on W. Grey Walter's _The Living Brain_ and carried it back up to his room.