"It's my trouble," answered Wanniston.
Rayne shook his massive head slowly. "Not entirely. I'm concerned."
"It's my trouble and, if it blows up in my face, it's my grief."
Again there came that shake of the head. "No, Wanniston, you cannot shake yourself loose like that. You are not alone. I failed my superiors when I told you the tale of Andy Tremaine. I thought that the knowledge of what had happened to another who tried the same thing would deter you. Remember?"
"Yes, I remember. I asked you why it wouldn't be possible to energize the human brain so that it could use the whole thing instead of the usual ten percent. You countered with the yarn about Tremaine."
"Time alone will fill the brain, John. No machine will do it properly. It is forced."
"So?"
"John, you have been using a modification of Tremaine's gadget on yourself. I can only say that you are ambitious to the foolhardy stage. No good will come of it."
"Where is the danger? I care nothing for sterility. I only hope to become as intelligent as you are."
"If that were all," smiled Gerd, "I would look the other way. But again—I could not. For I am responsible for every Terran in the eyes of my superiors. I must try to protect even those who attempt mental suicide. Along that line lies oblivion, Wanniston."