The psychiatrist said reasonably, "But nobody can live by himself, Stevie." He had apparently forgotten Steven, and the boy did not correct him again. "You have to learn to live with other people, to work and play with them, to know them, and the only way you can learn is by being with them. When you can't be with them personally, there's always television. That's how you learn, Stevie. You can't be by yourself." The boy looked up and said starkly, "Never?" The gleaming teeth showed. "But why should you want to?" Steven said, "I don't know." The doctor said, slowly and with emphasis, "Stevie, long before you were born the world was a very bad place. There were wars all the time. Do you know why?" The boy shook his head. "It was because people were different from each other, and didn't understand each other, and didn't know each other. They had to learn how to be alike, and understand, and know, so that they would be able to live together. They learned in many ways, Stevie. One way was by visiting each other--you've heard about the visitors who come from--" Steven said, "You mean the Happy Tours." "Yes. When you're twelve years old you can go on a Happy Tour. Won't that be fun?" Steven said, "If I could go alone." The doctor looked at him sharply. "But you can't. Try to understand, Stevie, you can't. Now tell me--why don't you like to be with other people?" Steven said, "All the time--not all the _time_." The doctor repeated patiently, "Why?" Steven looked at the doctor and said a very strange thing. "They touch me." He seemed to shrink into himself. "Not just with their hands." The doctor shook his head sadly. "Of course they do, that's just--well, maybe you're too young to understand." The interview went on for quite a while, and at the end of it Steven was given a series of tests which took a week. The psychiatrist had not told the truth; what the boy said, during the first interview and all the tests, was fully recorded on concealed machines. The complete transcript made a fat dossier in the office of the Clinic Director. At the end of the tests the Director said seriously to Steven's parents, "I'll be frank with you. You have a brilliant kiddie here--right now he has the intelligence of a twelve-year-old--but brilliance has to be channeled in the right direction. Just now--well, frankly, it's channeled in the wrong direction. We'll give it a year or so, and then if things don't clear up I'm afraid we'll have to correct him." Richard said through dry lips, "You mean a Steyner?" The Director nodded. "The only thing." Harriet shuddered and began to cry. "But there's never been anything like that in our family! The disgrace--oh, Dickie, it would kill me!"