Neilson gave him a friendly handshake but his eyes were coolly observant. "Okay," he nodded for Hartley's benefit.
Hartley glanced at his watch. "The stuff's all gone by now. They can't find a thing even if they do give you a checkup."
"But the silicon—"
"Not a trace," Neilson said. "This thing even breaks up on the atomic level, takes a little longer than the germ death but inside an hour no silicon."
"But the fission breakdown—"
"Don't ask me," Neilson shrugged, "it doesn't work that way. Must have something to do with the beautiful energy charge you get from germ-joy."
"Feeling clear-headed?" Hartley asked.
"Sure, I'll be right back for some more after I report."
He went out, grinning inwardly. They were right about one thing—it wasn't physiologically habit-forming. And he just did not have the kind of psychological defect for it to be habit-forming any other way.
When he reached Space Pioneer HQ he handed in his card at the Probationary desk. The Major in charge looked him up and down in stony silence, then suddenly barked, "Anything to say, Mister?"