"That's what the government wants to know. Believe me, they've done a lot of searching; most of it _sub rosa_. And then along came this man Leffingwell, with _his_ solution. That's just what it is, of course--an endocrinological solution, for direct injection." "Leffingwell? The Dr. Leffingwell whose name was on that photostat? What's he got to do with all this?" "He's boss of this project," Ritchie said. "He's the one who persuaded them to set up a breeding-center. You're _his_ guinea pig." "But why all the secrecy?" "That's what I wanted to know. That's why I scurried around, pulled strings to get a lab technician's job here. It wasn't easy, believe me. The whole deal is being kept strictly under wraps until Leffingwell's experiments prove out. They realized right away that it would be fatal to use volunteers for the experiments--they'd be bound to talk, there'd be leaks. And of course, they anticipated some awkward results at first, until the technique is refined and perfected. Well, they were right on that score. I've seen some of their failures." Ritchie shuddered. "Any volunteer--any military man, government employee or even a so-called dedicated scientist who broke away would spread enough rumors about what was going on to kill the entire project. That's why they decided to use mental patients for subjects. God knows, they had millions to choose from, but they were very particular. You're a rare specimen, Collins." "How so?" "Because you happen to fit all their specifications. You're young, in good physical condition. Unlike ninety percent of the population, you don't even wear contact lenses, do you? And your aberration was temporary, easily removed by removing you from the tension-sources which created it. You have no family ties, no close friends, to question your absence. That's why you were chosen--one of the two hundred." "Two hundred? But there's only a dozen others here now." "A dozen males, yes. You're forgetting the females. Must be about fifty or sixty in the other building." "But if you're talking about someone like Sue, she's a nurse--" Ritchie shook his head. "That's what she was _told_ to say. Actually, she's a patient, too. They're all patients. Twelve men and sixty women, at the moment. Originally, about thirty men and a hundred and seventy women." "What happened to the others?" "I told you there were some failures. Many of the women died in childbirth. Some of them survived, but found out about the results--and the results, up until now, haven't been perfect. A few of the men found out, too. Well, they have only one method of dealing with failures here. They dispose of them. I told you about that chimney, didn't I?" "You mean they killed the offspring, killed those who found out about them?" Ritchie shrugged. "But what are they actually _doing_? Who is this Dr. Leffingwell? What's it all about?" "I think I can answer those questions for you." Harry wheeled at the sound of the familiar voice.