"I don't drink."

"There is a time for everything, my dear Albert. This is a time for a warming bit of vodka, even for those who do not drink."

"I don't drink out of disapproval. I can't drink. I have no head for alcohol, that's all. If I take two swallows of that, I will be drunk within five minutes. Completely drunk."

Dezhnev's eyebrows went up. "So? What other purpose is there in drinking? Come, if you are lucky enough to win your goal in a few inexpensive sips, thank whatever you find thankable. A very small amount will warm you, stimulate your peripheral circulation, clear your head, concentrate your thoughts. It will even give you courage."

Kaliinin's voice sounded in half a whisper, but was distinctly audible. "Do not expect miracles of a little alcohol."

Morrison's head twisted sharply and he looked at her. She did not seem as pretty as he had thought her on their first meeting. There was a hard and unforgiving look about her.

Morrison said, "I have never represented myself as a courageous man. I have never presented myself as anything that would be of help to you. I have maintained from the beginning that I could not do anything for you. That I am here at all is the result of compulsion, as you all know. What do I owe you? What do I owe any of you?"

Boranova said, "Albert, you are shivering. Take a sip of the vodka. You will not be drunk on a sip and we won't force more on you."

Almost as though to show bravery in a small way, Morrison, after a moment's hesitation, took the glass from Dezhnev's hand and swallowed a bit of the liquor recklessly. He felt a burning sensation in his throat, which passed. The taste was rather sweetish than otherwise. He took a larger sip and handed the glass back. Dezhnev took it and placed it and the bottle on a small table on his side of the couch.

Morrison tried to speak, but he coughed instead. He waited, cleared his throat, and said breathily, "Actually, that's not so bad. If you don't mind, Arkady -"

Dezhnev reached for the glass, but Boranova said, "No. That's enough, Albert." Her imperious gesture stopped Dezhnev. "We do not want you drunk, Albert. Just a little warm so you will listen to us."

Morrison could feel the warmth rising within him, as it always had when, on rare occasions of social bonhomie, he had had some sherry or (once) a dry martini. He decided he could handle any argument she could produce.

"All right," he said, "say on," and set his lips into a firm and unyielding line.

"I don't say, Albert, you owe us anything and I'm sorry that all this came as such a shock to you. We are aware that you are not a reckless man of action and we tried to break it to you as gently as possible. I had hoped, in fact, that you would see what was essential on your own, without any necessity of explanation."

"You were wrong," said Morrison. "At no time would such a mad thing have occurred to me."

"You see our necessity, don't you?"

"I see your necessity. I don't see it as mine.

"You might feel you owe it to the cause of global science."

"Global science is an abstraction that I admire, but I am not likely to want to sacrifice my highly concrete body for an abstraction that doesn't seem to exist. The whole point of your necessity is that it is Soviet science that is at stake, not global science."

"Then consider American science," said Boranova, "If you help us, that will become an eternal part of the victory. It will become a joint Soviet-American victory."

"Will my part be publicized?" demanded Morrison. "Or will the thing be announced as purely Soviet?"

Boranova said, "You have my word."

"You cannot commit the Soviet Government."

"Horrible," said Kaliinin. "He judges our government by his own."

Konev said, "Wait, Natalya. Let me talk to our American friend, man to man." He sat down by Morrison and said, "Albert, I appeal to your interest in your work. So far, you have achieved little in the way of results. You have convinced no one in your country and you don't have any chance of doing so as long as you are left with only the tools you have. We offer you a better tool, one whose worth you couldn't dream of three days ago and one which you'll never have again if you turn away from it now. Albert, you have the chance to graduate from romantic speculations to convincing evidence. Do this for us and you will become, at a bound, the most famous neurophysicist in the world."

Morrison said, "You're asking me to risk my life on an untried technique."

"That is not unprecedented. All through history, scientists have risked death to continue their investigations. They have gone up in balloons and have dipped under the seas in primitive armored spheres to make their measurements and observations. Chemists have risked dealing with poisons and explosives, biologists with pathogens of all types. Physicians have injected themselves with experimental sera and physicists, in attempting to establish a self-supporting nuclear reaction, knew well that the explosion that resulted might destroy them or, conceivably, the entire planet."

Morrison said, "You spin dreams. You would never let it be known that an American played a role. Not when you confess your desperation at the possibility that Soviet science would lose the credit."

Konev said, "Let's be honest with each other, Albert. We couldn't hide your share in this, even if we wished to. The American government knows we brought you here. We know they do. You know they do. They made no move to stop us because they want you here. Well, they will know - or at least guess - what we wanted you here for and what you did for us, once we announce our success. And they will see to it that American science, in your person, will get full credit."

Morrison sat silently, head bent, for a while. There was a flushed spot, high on each cheek, as a result of the vodka he had drunk. Without looking, he knew that four pairs of eyes were firmly fixed upon him and he suspected that four breaths were being held.

He looked up and said, "Let me ask you one question. How did Shapirov come to be in a coma?"

There was again a silence and three of the pairs of staring eyes shifted to Natalya Boranova.

Morrison, seeing that, also stared at her. "Well?" he said.

Boranova said, "Albert, I will tell you the truth, even if that would tend to defeat our aims. If we try to lie to you, you will be right not to believe anything we say. If you see we are truthful, then you can believe us in the future. Albert, Academician Shapirov is in a coma because he was miniaturized, as we hope you will be. There was a small accident during deminiaturizing that destroyed part of his brain, apparently permanently. That can happen, you see, and we are not hiding it from you. Now give us the credit for utter frankness and say you will help us."