He leaned back across his desk and pressed the buttons: temperature control, full range, check; exoticsounds—he raised the earphone—check, on bells, onbuzzes, on violin notes and whistles, on squeals andmoans, on traffic noises and the sound of surf; check, onthe feedback circuit—holding the patient's own voice,trapped earlier in analysis; check, on the sound blanket,the moisture spray, the odor banks; check, on the couchagitator and the colored lights, the taste stimulants ...

Render closed the egg and shut off its power. He pushedthe unit into the closet, palmed shut the door. The tapeshad registered a valid sequence.

"Sit down," he directed Erikson.

The man did so, fidgeting with his collar.

"You have full recall," said Render, "so there is noneed for me to summarize what occurred. Nothing canbe hidden from me. I was there."

Erikson nodded.

"The significance of the episode should be apparent toyou."

Erikson nodded again, finally finding his voice. "Butwas it valid?" he asked. "I mean, you constructed thedream and you controlled it, all the way. I didn't reallydream it—in the way I would normally dream. Yourability to make things happen stacks the deck for whatever you're going to say—doesn't it?"

Render shook his head slowly, flicked an ash into thesouthern hemisphere of his globe-made-ashtray, and metErikson's eyes.

"It is true that I supplied the format and modified theforms. You, however, filled them with an emotional significance, promoted them to the status of symbols corresponding to your problem. If the dream was not a validanalogue it would not have provoked the reactions it did.It would have been devoid of the anxiety-patterns whichwere registered on the tapes.

"You have been in analysis for many months now," hecontinued, "and everything I have learned thus far servesto convince me that your fears of assassination are without any basis in fact."

Erikson glared.

"Then why the hell do I have them?"

"Because," said Render, "you would like very much tobe the subject of an assassination."

Erikson smiled then, his composure beginning to return.

"I assure you, doctor, I have never contemplatedsuicide, nor have I any desire to stop living."

He produced a cigar and applied a flame to it. His bandshook.

"When you came to me this summer," said Render,"you stated that you were in fear of an attempt on yourlife. You were quite vague as to why anyone should wantto kill you—"

"My position! You can't be a Representative as long asI have and make no enemies!"

"Yet," replied Render, "it appears that you havemanaged it. When you permitted me to discuss this withyour detectives I was informed that they could unearthnothing to indicate that your fears might have any realfoundation. Nothing."

"They haven't looked far enough—or in the rightplaces. They'll turn up something."

"I'm afraid not."

"Why?"

"Because, I repeat, your feelings are without any objective basis. —Be honest with me. Have you any infor-mation whatsoever indicating that someone hates youenough to want to kill you?"

"I receive many threatening letters... .**

"As do all Representatives—and all of those directed toyou during the past year have been investigated and foundto be the work of cranks. Can you offer me one piece ofevidence to substantiate your claims?'*

Erikson studied the tip of his cigar.

"I came to you on the advice of a colleague," he said,"came to you to have you poke around inside my mind tofind me something of that sort, to give my detectivessomething to work with. —Someone I've injured severelyperhaps—or some damaging piece of legislation I'vedealt with ..."

**—And I found nothing," said Render, "nothing, that is,but the cause of your discontent. Now, of course, you areafraid to hear it, and you are attempting to divert mefrom explaining my diagnosis—"

"I am not!"

*Then listen. You can comment afterward if you want,but you've poked and dawdled around here for months,unwilling to accept what I presented to you in a dozendifferent forms. Now I am going to tell you outright whatit is, and you can do what you want about it."

"Fine."

"First," he said, "you would like very much to have anenemy or enemies—"

"Ridiculous!"

**—Because it is the only alternative to havingfriends—"

**I have lots of friends!"

**—Because nobody wants to be completely ignored, tobe an object for whom no one has really strong feelings.Hatred and love are the ultimate forms of human regard.Lacking one, and unable to achieve it, you sought theother. You wanted it so badly that you succeeded in convincing yourself it existed. But there is always a psychicpricetag on these things. Answering a genuine emotionalneed with a body of desire-surrogates does not producereal satisfaction, but anxiety, discomfort—because in thesematters the psyche should be an open system. You did notseek outside yourself for human regard. You were closedeff. You created that which you needed from the stuff ofyour own being. You are a man very much in need ofstrong relationships with other people."

"Manure 1"

'Take it or leave it," said Render. '*! suggest you takeit."

"I've been paying you for half a year to help find outwho wants to kill me. Now you sit there and tell me Imade the whole thing up to satisfy a desire to have someone hate me."

"Hate you, or love you. That's right."

"It's absurd! I meet so many people that I carry apocket recorder and a lapel-camera, just so I can recallthem all...."

"Meeting quantities of people is hardly what I wasspeaking of. —Tell me, did that dream sequence have astrong meaning for you?"

Erikson was silent for several tickings of the huge wallclock.

"Yes," he finally conceded, "it did. But your interpretation of the matter is still absurd. Granting though, just forthe sake of argument, that what you say is correct—whatwould I do to get out of this bind?"

Render leaned back in his chair.

"Rechannel the energies that went into producing thething. Meet some people as yourself, Joe Erikson, ratherthan Representative Erikson. Take up something you cando with other people—something non-political, and perhaps somewhat competitive—and make some real friendsor enemies, preferably the former. I've encouraged you todo this all along."

"Then tell me something else."

-Gladly."

"Assuming you are right, why is it that I am neitherliked nor hated, and never have been? I have a responsible position in the Legislature. I meet people all the time.Why am I so neutral a—thing?"

Highly familiar now with Erikson's career. Render hadto push aside his true thoughts on the matter, as they wereof no operational value. He wanted to cite him Dante'sobservations concerning the trimmers—those souls who,denied heaven for their lack of virtue, were also deniedentrance to hell for a lack of significant vices—in short,the ones who trimmed their sails to move them with everywind of the times, who lacked direction, who were notreally concerned toward which ports they were pushed.Such was Erikson's long and colorless career of migrantloyalties, of political reversals.

Render said:

"More and more people find themselves in such circumstances these days. It is due largely to the increasingcomplexity of society and the depersonalization of the individual into a sociometric unit. Even the act of cathecting toward other persons has grown more forced as aresult. There are so many of us these days."

Erikson. nodded, and Render smiled inwardly.

Sometimes the gruff line, and then the lecture ...

"I've got the feeling you could be right," said Erikson.-Sometimes I do feel like what you just described—a unit,something depersonalized...."