"You tell me something new?" The doctor frowned. "Millions of people there are. So? Must they be alike every one? They are not. Yes?" The doctor leaned toward Timmy who was playing with a desk calendar. "Who is your mother?" Timmy pointed to Mrs. Briggs. "Your father?" Timmy pointed to George. "See? He knows." "Of course," Mrs. Briggs said. "Exactly," the doctor agreed. Then he was upright, waving his forefinger before them, looking from beneath dark brows. "For how long, Mrs. Briggs? For how long, I am asking? And now, I am telling how long. Who knows? Who can tell how many times you will let him see these things?" "What day is today?" Timmy asked. "He is asking what day it is," the doctor laughed. "Well, why don't you answer him?" Mrs. Briggs suggested. "The twelfth of June," the doctor said. "And why does Timmy ask such a question?" "You forgot to tear off yesterday." And Timmy tore the little sheet off, proceeded to make a dart of it. "Well, what you've been meaning to say," George said, "is that we're going to have to cut down on Timmy's Elroom time." "Aw, Dad!" Timmy protested. "No. Cut it down we will not do." The doctor shook his head gravely. "We will cut it out altogether." "Cut it out?" George said hopefully. He leaned forward with interest. "Maybe we should get rid of our outfit?" "Mr. Briggs. You do not know, perhaps, sublimation can be dangerous. Confusing reality, stimulating unreality, stunting thinking, bringing on neuroses. Tolerance. He needs tolerance. Timmy cannot develop tolerance with too much of a dose, as he has had. Do you see now? The AG test--ah!--it is good. It shows us he is leaving reality. We can't let him psychotic become." "But he doesn't believe the programs!" Mrs. Briggs exclaimed. "Not yet, Mrs. Briggs! Not yet. If he sublimes enough he will soon, though. No?" "I can't stand the thought of locking Timmy out of it," Mrs. Briggs said sadly. "I'm in favor of getting rid of it," George muttered. "There are other things--cars--" Dr. Potter took an official form from a drawer. "A change of environment you need. Timmy needs. You leave tomorrow on a month's vacation." "But my vacation doesn't come up for six months," George said. "Or doesn't that matter?" he added hopefully. "You will leave tomorrow, as said. No? Your office will I inform of the necessary departure. Sector administration will be knowing." He wrote on a sheet of paper. "The colorful spots. That you will see. Timmy will see things as they really are. Itineraries will send the route by facsimile. Good. Not?" "Why, I think it's wonderful!" George said. "Timmy must see the sunrise. The sea, he must swim in. Things, he must do. Remember. Yes?" "Yes," George said. "No?" He turned to his wife. "There's an agency where we can rent a car--and they have new _Caddies_--" * * * * *