"Well, what is it?" "We've added a variation of the electro-encephalograph ..." The CIA man stopped walking. "The electro-what?" "Electro-encephalograph. You know, a recording device that reads the electrical patterns of your brain. Like the electro-cardiograph." "Oh." "But you see, we've given the EEG a reverse twist. Instead of using a machine that makes a recording of the brain's electrical wave output, we've developed a device that will take the computer's readout tapes, and turn them into electrical patterns that are put _into_ your brain!" "I don't get it." General LeRoy took over. "You sit at the machine's control console. A helmet is placed over your head. You set the machine in operation. You _see_ the results." "Yes," Ford went on. "Instead of reading rows of figures from the computer's printer ... you actually see the war being fought. Complete visual and auditory hallucinations. You can watch the progress of the battles, and as you change strategy and tactics you can see the results before your eyes." "The idea, originally, was to make it easier for the General Staff to visualize strategic situations," General LeRoy said. "But every one who's used the machine has either resigned his commission or gone insane," Ford added. The CIA man cocked an eye at LeRoy. "You've used the computer." "Correct." "And you have neither resigned nor cracked up." General LeRoy nodded. "I called you in." Before the CIA man could comment, Ford said, "The computer's right inside this doorway. Let's get this over with while the building is still empty." * * * * * They stepped in. The physicist and the general showed the CIA man through the room-filling rows of massive consoles. "It's all transistorized and subminiaturized, of course," Ford explained. "That's the only way we could build so much detail into the machine and still have it small enough to fit inside a single building." "A single building?" "Oh yes; this is only the control section. Most of this building is taken up by the circuits, the memory banks, and the rest of it." "Hm-m-m." [Illustration: ILLUSTRATED BY SCHELLING] They showed him finally to a small desk, studded with control buttons and dials. The single spotlight above the desk lit it brilliantly, in harsh contrast to the semidarkness of the rest of the room. "Since you've never run the computer before," Ford said, "General LeRoy will do the controlling. You just sit and watch what happens." The general sat in one of the well-padded chairs and donned a grotesque headgear that was connected to the desk by a half-dozen wires. The CIA man took his chair slowly. When they put one of the bulky helmets on him, he looked up at them, squinting a little in the bright light. "This ... this isn't going to ... well, do me any damage, is it?"