It was, of necessity, a psychologically unstable condition. Insanity was an occupational disease.
* * *
Dr. Cummings appeared, still buckling the straps of the armor worn to guard against stray radiation. "What's up?" he asked Silard.
"I had to relieve Harper."
"So I guessed. I met him coming up. He was sore as hell — just glared at me."
"I know. He wants an immediate hearing. That's why I had to send for you."
Cummings grunted, then nodded toward the engineer, anonymous in all-inclosing armor. "Who'd I draw?"
"Erickson."
"Good enough. Squareheads can't go crazy — eh, Gus?"
Erickson looked up momentarily and answered, "That's your problem," and returned to his work.