"You sound mentally healthy enough."
"Thanks. But what about him? You've seen him."
"I have. He came to me about you."
"And what are you doing about it ... us?"
Dr. Hamilton laughed. "Mind if I speak bluntly?"
"Not at all. I can take it."
"Then consider. Both you and your ... physicist ... are sensible, useful citizens. Both of you can contribute much to civilization. Both of you can and will be respectable people, for which other people will have admiration.
"I am in the middle," said the doctor, "I can be no more than a referee. I see both sides. I believe the cleavage came as a result of frustration on your part—you know the details—and as such, you become him when you are frustrated. The reason why he becomes you is also clear. Whenever he finds himself in straits due to the necessity of practical thought, the slip-over occurs. You awoke with a stripping hammer in your hand, unpacking scientific equipment that the physicist bought. He, obviously, became quite worried about the financial situation upon viewing the stuff he bought and could face it no more."
"Sounds reasonable."
"Now consider again. Neither of you is dangerous. You are both interesting and valuable to society. The only thing that is at all bothersome is the fact that you, per se, are not happy. You need an integration of personality. He needs the same. I might hope for a coalescing of you two, but at the moment—and possibly for all time—it is impossible. All I can tell you is the same thing that I told him. Frustration to the extreme will exorcise the other personality. He tried it by running you into debt; by purchasing a laboratory full of things that you, as an engineer, can see no practical use for. You frustrated him—or tried to—by making something commercial out of his last experiment. That, unfortunately, was not frustration for him.