“Quite true. But the minute he invented it, it became non-invention, because, since it was _he_ who invented it, it didn’t require invention.” The new Examiner finally recovered his faculties, He slapped both hands on his knees, got up, and said, “Well, so long, sir. By resigning right now I may have a fighting chance of retaining my sanity.” And he walked out the side door shaking his head. “What’s the matter with him?” asked the Primary in a puzzled voice. Krome said, “I don’t know. Perhaps he--” He stopped. The helmet had suddenly dropped a couple of inches further into the desk. It hung there a split second, then dropped a few inches more. Step by step he was slipping down. We heard his muffled voice coming out of the desk through the cracks around the drawers, but we couldn’t understand what he said. The Primary and I leaned over to look under the desk. We watched the floor close over the helmet. The Primary straightened up, and glared at me. “Well,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have lots of work to do.” “Oh, sure,” I said. “I have to go find Mr. Krome anyway. Goodbye, and thanks for your trouble.” “No trouble, no trouble,” he retorted with a venomous inflection, picking up a document from his desk top and beginning to read it. I trotted on down to the room underneath. The door was closed, and on it in big letters were the words NARCOTICS BUREAU. I carefully opened the door and looked inside. * * * * * It was a small room, and there were only four men in it. Three of them were bent intently over their desks. But the fourth man had tilted back in his chair for a moment’s reflection and contemplation. His hands were clasped behind his head, and everything about him was normal--except his eyes. No human eyes should ever protrude the way his did. Krome hung suspended from the ceiling. Everything below his collar bone was in plain sight, and most of it was thrashing around noiselessly. For about ten seconds it continued thus--the immobile narcotics expert, the quivering Krome. Then Krome managed to turn on the energy field in the upper part of the suit. Without a sound he slipped out of the ceiling, fell through the floor, and disappeared. Nobody saw him go except me and the thinker. That amazing gentleman swallowed hard and sat upright. A quick glance convinced him that none of the others had noticed anything wrong. He swallowed again, sighed heavily, and then methodically began to clean out his desk. As I was sadly closing the door, I realized with sudden consternation that Krome was dropping toward the Search Room on the ground floor. And the ceiling there was over twenty feet high. I began to run again. The Search Room was quiet when I burst into it, holding my tattered and blood-caked clothing tightly around me. The occupants of the room gave me strange looks, but they were so used to having screwballs around that nobody said anything. I kept my eyes on the ceiling.