"Well that'll be enough for today. We do want you to report back in a week or so, just to find out how this affects your normal activities. The receptionist will make an appointment for you. Your clothes are in the closet."
Tom dressed and started along the corridor, stopping only once for a brief glimpse of the machine which had been his battleground. A boy he had seen occasionally at school was approaching, and they nodded at one another.
"You been through it?" the boy asked.
"Yeh," Tom told him, a little uneasily.
"I'm just going in. How is it?" Tom noticed the other boy's collar was damp with perspiration and his eyes were somewhat watery. "Is it pretty rough?"
"Well, it's—" Tom returned uncomfortably. "It's just like war."
He turned away as the other winced and swallowed nervously. The receptionist made his appointment and he strode to the doorway. Already the horrors of a mere hour before seemed years in the past, and he wondered, as he proceeded down the steps into the same bright day he had left so long ago, how those vague and distant imaginings could possibly affect his future behavior. He readily admitted that he would be far less inclined to defend the concept of war than he would have been earlier. But surely it was possible that, under certain conditions, he might find himself in a situation where he had no alternative to violence. Those who had been through it never seemed to get into fights like other kids did, but that could be simply a matter of growing up.
Then why, he wondered, was electrohypnosis universally required and the keystone of the armistice which had concluded the Third World War? With the exception of a few thoroughly socialized individuals whose capacity for occasional force was necessary to the maintenance of law and order, every male human being of fifteen underwent the experience. So there must be some aspect of its consequences which he had overlooked.
For some reason a memory of three small boys playing soldier on an autumn dusk slipped in among his thoughts. How disenchantingly different had been the unreal realism of the dream. With an amused start it occurred to him that the same genuine Captain America Infrared Electronic Sniperkit that had seen him through those childhood skirmishes had accompanied him into combat that morning. And for an instant he wondered if such a thing as an infrared flare actually did exist.