He fell silent. Hendley waited, yearning for the question to be asked again, but it never came. The feeling of compelling eagerness to speak began to wane, as if the deprivation of that one need to answer had weakened the entire structure of desire. The compulsion began to break up, to weaken, to dissolve into less forceful fragments of need.... * * * * * "Hypno-serum," Hendley said bitterly. "Naturally," the Investigator said, flashing his tolerant smile. "Why did you go through with the rest of it?" Hendley demanded. "Why bother with direct questioning when you were going to get all the answers anyway?" "It was necessary to know what you would tell us voluntarily," the gray-haired man said. "And then to corroborate or disprove your statements by comparing them to your answers under hypno-questioning." Hendley's stony expression concealed a sense of wonder. He had heard of cases in which individuals were able partially or completely to resist the truth drug for limited periods. He marveled at the struggle of will he had endured, and at the lucky chance which had enabled him to give Ann's archaic first name instead of the complete number. But his feeling of relief was diluted by a lingering disappointment. "Was it necessary to make that promise of a visit to a Freeman Camp under the circumstances?" he said a little caustically. "What did you gain by that device?" "Device?" The Investigator showed surprise. "But that is still my recommendation." He beamed at Hendley's astonishment. "The hypno-questioning confirmed the genuine sincerity of your ideological protest and verified my diagnosis completely. Oh, there is the woman, of course, but she is merely symptomatic. These women prey on confusion and uncertainty, on the need for a love-object--or, as you so aptly suggested, TRH-247, a freedom-object. Your rebellion, as you call it, is motivated by a true desire for freedom. It merely needs focus and understanding to be directed toward intelligent channels. Your case will go to the morale computer for review in the morning, but I think I can assure you...." The rest of his words were lost in the roaring which filled Hendley's ears. He sat abruptly on the slab couch across from the Investigator's desk, his legs trembling. The extreme reaction, coming immediately after his bout with the truth serum, left him feeling weak and giddy, his thoughts churning confusedly, his emotions a stew of incredulity, relief, and elation. It was some moments before he thought again of Ann. His elation dimmed. Now there would be more delay--he didn't know how long--before he could begin to search for her. Or was the Investigator right? Was she no more than an objectivization of a deeper hunger? Would he, after knowing the reality of freedom, still feel the same way about her--still want her, regardless of the cost?