“Because it’s a radiation. What causes that radiation? Energy emitted by certain electronic patterns. What causes electronic patterns? The basic physical structure of matter. What causes uranium to throw off neutrons under special conditions? Same answer. If an uranium pile starts to get out of control, you can damp it, if you move fast, with boron or cadmium.”
“If you move fast. Why use Gregson? He’s been insane for years.”
“If he’d been insane for only a week, we couldn’t prove it was the empathy surrogate that cured him. You’re just arguing to dodge the responsibility. If you don’t want to help me, I’ll get somebody else.”
“It would take weeks to train another man,” Morrissey said. “No, I’ll operate. Only—have you thought of the possible effect on your own mind?”
“Certainly,” Bruno said. “Why the devil do you suppose I’ve been running exhaustive psychological tests on myself? I’m completely oriented, I’m so normal that my mind must be full of boron dampers.” He paused at the door of his office. “Barbara’s here. I’ll meet you in Surgery.”
Morrissey’s shoulders slumped. Bruno smiled slightly and opened the door. His wife was sitting on a leather couch, idly turning the pages of a psychiatric review.
“Studying?” Bruno said. “Want a job as a nurse?”
“Hello, darling,” she said, tossing the magazine aside.
She came toward him quickly. She was small and dark and, Bruno thought academically, extremely pretty. Then his thoughts stopped being academic as he kissed her.
“What’s up?”