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h　act　but　one　I　hoped　he'd　be　able　to　understand。　I　said　I　was　fairly　sure　it　was　the　medication　he'd　prescribed　for　her　that　was　causing　the　problem。
　　〃What　problem？〃
　　〃Memory　lapse。〃
　　〃You　would　call　a　doctor　at　home　to　talk　about　memory　lapse。　If　everyone　with　memory　lapse　called　a　doctor　at　home；　what　would　we　have？　The　ripple　effect　would　be　tremendous。〃
　　I　told　him　the　lapses　were　frequent。
　　〃Frequent。　I　know　your　wife。　This　is　the　wife　who　came　to　me　one　night　with　a　crying　child。　'My　child　is　crying。'　She　would　e　to　a　medical　doctor　who　is　a　private　corporation　and　ask　him　to　treat　a　child　for　crying。　Now　I　pick　up　the　phone　and　it's　the　husband。　You　would　call　a　doctor　in　his　home　after　ten　o'clock　at　night。　You　would　say　to　him；　'Memory　lapse。'　Why　not　tell　me　she　has　gas？　Call　me　at　home　for　gas？〃
　　〃Frequent　and　prolonged；　doctor。　It　has　to　be　the　medication。〃
　　〃What　medication？〃
　　〃Dylar。〃
　　〃Never　heard　of　it。〃
　　〃A　small　white　tablet。　es　in　an　amber　bottle。〃
　　〃You　would　describe　a　tablet　as　small　and　white　and　expect　a　doctor　to　respond；　at　home；　after　ten　at　night。　Why　not　tell　me　it　is　round？　This　is　crucial　to　our　case。〃
　　〃It's　an　unlisted　drug。〃
　　〃I　never　saw　it。　I　certainly　never　prescribed　it　for　your　wife。　She's　a　very　healthy　woman　so　far　as　it's　within　my　ability　to　ascertain　such　things；　being　subject　as　I　am　to　the　same　human　failings　as　the　next　fellow。〃
　　This　sounded　like　a　malpractice　disclaimer。　Maybe　he　was　reading　it　from　a　printed　card　like　a　detective　informing　a　suspect　of　his　constitutional　rights。　I　thanked　him；　hung　up；　called　my　own　doctor　at　home。　He　answered　on　the　seventh　ring；　said　he　thought　Dylar　was　an　island　in　the　Persian　Gulf；　one　of　those　oil　terminals　crucial　to　the　survival　of　the　West。　A　woman　did　the　weather　in　the　background。
　　I　went　upstairs　and　told　Denise　not　to　worry。　I　would　take　a　tablet　from　the　bottle　and　have　it　analyzed　by　someone　in　the　chemistry　department　at　the　college。　I　waited　for　her　to　tell　me　she'd　already　done　that。　But　she　just　nodded　grimly　and　I　headed　down　the　hall；　stopping　in　Heinrich's　room　to　say　goodnight。　He　was　doing　chinning　exercises　in　the　closet；　using　a　bar　clamped　to　the　doorway。
　　〃Where　did　you　get　that？〃
　　〃It's　Mercator's。〃
　　〃Who's　that？〃
　　〃He's　this　senior　I　hang　around　with　now。　He's　almost　nineteen　and　he's　still　in　high　school。　To　give　you　some　idea。〃
　　〃Some　idea　of　what？〃
　　〃How　big　he　is。　He　bench…presses　these　awesome　amounts。〃
　　〃Why　do　you　want　to　chin？　What　does　chinning　acplish？〃　What　does　anything　acplish？　Maybe　I　just　want　to　build　up　my　body　to　pensate　for　other　things。〃
　　〃What　other　things？〃
　　〃My　hairline's　getting　worse；　to　name　just　one。〃
　　〃It's　not　getting　worse。　Ask　Baba　if　you　don't　believe　me。　She　has　a　sharp　eye　for　things　like　that。〃
　　〃My　mother　told　me　to　see　a　dermatologist。〃
　　〃I　don't　think　that's　necessary　at　this　stage。〃
　　〃I　already　went。〃
　　〃What　did　he　say？〃
　　〃It　was　a　she。　My　mother　told　me　to　go　to　a　woman。〃
　　〃What　did　she　say？〃
　　〃She　said　I　have　a　dense　donor　site。〃
　　〃What　does　that　mean？〃
　　〃She　can　take　hair　from　other　parts　of　my　head　and　surgically　implant　it　where　it's　needed。　Not　that　it　makes　any　difference。　I'd。　just　as　soon　be　bald。　I　can　easily　see　myself　totally　bald。　There　are　kids　my　age　with　cancer。　Their　hair　falls　out　from　chemotherapy。　Why　should　I　be　different？〃
　　He　was　standing　in　the　closet　peering　out　at　me。　I　decided　to　change　the　subject。
　　〃If　you　really　think　chinning　helps；　why　don't　you　stand　outside　the　closet　and　do　your　exercises　facing　in？　Why　stand　in　that　dark　musty　space？〃
　　〃If　you　think　this　is　strange；　you　ought　to　see　what　Mercator's　doing。〃
　　〃What's　he　doing？〃
　　〃He's　training　to　break　the　world　endurance　record　for　sitting　in　a　cage　full　of　poisonous　snakes；　for　the　Guinness　Book　of　Records。　He　goes　to　Glassboro　three　times　a　week　where　they　have　this　exotic　pet　shop。　The　owner　lets　him　feed　the　mamba　and　the　puff　adder。　To　get　him　accustomed。　Totally　forget　your　North　American　rattlesnake。　The　puff　adder　is　the　most　venomous　snake　in　the　world。〃
　　〃Every　time　I　see　newsfilm　of　someone　in　his　fourth　week　of　sitting　in　a　cage　full　of　snakes；　I　find　myself　wishing　he'd　get　bitten。〃
　　〃So　do　I；〃　Heinrich　said。
　　〃Why　is　that？〃
　　〃He's　asking　for　it。〃
　　〃That's　right。　Most　of　us　spend　our　lives　avoiding　danger。　Who　do　these　people　think　they　are？〃
　　〃They　ask　for　it。　Let　them　get　it。〃
　　I　paused　a　while；　savoring　the　rare　moment　of　agreement。
　　〃What　else　does　your　friend　do　to　train？〃
　　〃He　sits　for　long　periods　in　one　place；　getting　his　bladder　accustomed。　He's　down　to　two　meals　a　day。　He　sleeps　sitting　up；　two　hours　at　a　time。　He　wants　to　train　himself　to　wake　up　gradually；　without　sudden　movements；　which　could　startle　a　mamba。〃
　　〃It　seems　a　strange　ambition。〃
　　〃Mambas　are　sensitive。〃
　　〃But　if　it　makes　him　happy。〃
　　〃He　thinks　he's　happy　but　it's　just　a　nerve　cell　in　his　brain　that's　getting　too　much　stimulation　or　too　little　stimulation。〃
　　I　got　out　of　bed　in　the　middle　of　the　night　and　went　to　the　small　room　at　the　end　of　the　hall　to　watch　Steffie　and　Wilder　sleep。　I　remained　at　this　task；　motionless；　for　nearly　an　hour；　feeling　refreshed　and　expanded　in　unnameable　ways。
　　I　was　surprised；　entering　our　bedroom；　to　find　Babette　standing　at　a　window　looking　out　into　the　steely　night。　She　gave　no　sign　that　she'd　noticed　my　absence　from　the　bed　and　did　not　seem　to　hear　when　I　climbed　back　in；　burying　myself　beneath　the　covers。
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　　Our　newspaper　is　delivered　by　a　middle…aged　Iranian　driving　a　Nissan　Sentra。　Something　about　the　car　makes　me　uneasy—　the　car　waiting　with　its　headlights　on；　at　dawn；　as　the　man　places　the　newspaper　on　the　front　steps。　I　tell　myself　I　have　reached　an　age；　the　age　of　unreliable　menace。　The　world　is　full　of　abandoned　meanings。　In　the　monplace　I　find　unexpected　themes　and　intensities。
　　I　sat　at　my　desk　in　the　office　staring　down　at　the　white　tablet。　It　was　more　or　less　flying…saucer…shaped；　a　streamlined　disk　with　the　tiniest　of　holes　at　one　end。　It　was　only　after　moments　of　intense　scrutiny　that　I'd　been　able　to　spot　the　hole。
　　The　tablet　was　not　chalky　like　aspirin　and　not　exactly　capsule…slick　either。　It　felt　strange　in　the　hand；　curiously　sensitive　to　the　touch　but　at　the　same　time　giving　the　impression　that　it　was　synthetic；　insoluble；　elaborately　engineered。
　　I　walked　over　to　a　small　domed　building　known　as　the　Observatory　and　gave　the　tablet　to　Winnie　Richards；　a〃　young　research　neurochemist　whose　work　was　said　to　be　brilliant。　She　was　a　tall　gawky　furtive　woman　who　blushed　when　someone　said　something　funny。　Some　of　the　New　York　émigrés　liked　to　visit　her　cubicle　and　deliver　rapid…fire　one…liners；　just　to　see　her　face　turn　red。
　　I　watched　her　sit　at　the　cluttered　desk　for　two　or　three　minutes；　slowly　rotating　the　tablet　between　her　thumb　and　index　finger。　She　licked　it　and　shrugged。
　　〃Certainly　doesn't　taste　like　much。〃
　　〃How　long　will　it　take　to　analyze　the　contents？〃
　　〃There's　a　dolphin's　brain　in　my　in…box　but　e　see　me　in　forty…eight　hours。〃
　　Winnie　was　well…known　on　the　Hill　for　moving　from　place　to　place　without　being　seen。　No　one　knew　how　she　managed　this　or　why　she　found　it　necessary。　Maybe　she　was　self…conscious　about　her　awkward　frame；　her　craning　look　and　odd　lope。　Maybe　she　had　a　phobia　concerning　open　spaces；　although　the　spaces　at　the　college　were　mainly　snug　and　quaint。　Perhaps　the　world　of　people　and　things　had　such　an　impact　on　her；　struck　her　with　the　force　of　some　rough　and　naked　body—made　her　blush　in　fact—that　she　found　it　easier　to　avoid　frequent　contact。　Maybe　she　was　tired　of　being　called　brilliant。　In　any　case　I　had　trouble　locating　her　all　the　rest　of　that　week。　She　was　not　to　be　seen　on　the　lawns　and　walks；　was　absent　from　her　cubicle　whenever　I　looked　in。
　　At　home　Denise　made　it　a　point　not　to　bring　up　the　subject　of　Dylar。　She　did　not　want　to　put　pressure　on　me　and　even　avoided　eye　contact；　as　if　an　exchange　of　significant　looks　was　more　than　our　secret　knowledge　could　bear。　B