"We'll have to wait for the attendants," the other shrugged. It was odd. That was practically all you ever had to say to yourself.
Down the hall feet slapped rapidly on the floor and approached the "Dupe" chamber. A taut-faced attendant looked into the room and waved at them frantically with a trembling hand.
"Don't get off your cots, please, sirs," he quavered and was gone.
The Tindars stared at one another.
"Something novel," they both said.
"Listen to the hell they're raising in the other room," one said, breaking the identity of their thought streams.
Visor-phones were buzzing; at least a dozen voices were raised in a furious discussion. Another voice could be heard, pleading and distraught. More attendants ran up and down the hall before the "Dupe" chamber. Three uniformed men with faces as white as their uniforms rushed through the waiting room and faced the Tindars.
"Dr. Bronsky will be here in a moment, sirs," one of them said.
"What's the matter?" one of the Tindars asked.
"Dr. Bronsky will be here presently, sirs," the attendant repeated.