"Do you recall the questionnaires that you answered before you were invited here? We fed the answers to this machine and, as a result, we know more about how you will react in any given situation than you do yourself. Even if you should fail to join us, our secrets would be safe with you. Of course, we miss a few of the scientists who might be perfect material for our organization. You'd be surprised, though, at how clever our advertisements are at attracting exactly the men we want. With the help of our new science, we have baited our ads well, and we know how to maintain interest. Curiosity is, to the men we want, a powerful motivator." "But what about the others?" asked Don. "There must be hundreds of applicants who would be of no use to you at all." "Oh, yes," replied Crandon. "There are the mild religious fanatics. We enroll them as members and keep them interested by sending pamphlets in line with their interests. We even let them contribute to our upkeep, if they seem to want to. They never get beyond the reception room if they come to call on us. But they are additional people through whom we can act when the time finally comes. "There are also the desperate people who try POSAT as a last resort--lost ones who can't find their direction in life. For them we put into practice some of our newly won knowledge. We rehabilitate them--anonymously, of course. Even find jobs or patch up homes. It's good practice for us. "I think I've answered most of your questions, Don. But you haven't answered mine. Will you join us?" Don looked solemnly at the orderly array of the computer before him. He had one more question. "Will it really work? Can it actually tell you how to motivate the stubborn, quarrelsome, opinionated people one finds on this Earth?" Crandon smiled. "You're here, aren't you?" Don nodded, his tense features relaxing. "Enroll me as a member," he said. End of Project Gutenberg's What is Posat?, by Phyllis Sterling Smith