"Yes," I said. "She's out. And you're going in."
He started to scream so I clipped him.
Then I carried him out to his private labs. I made him unlock the door and unset the alarms, dumped him on the maxima plate of his own converter and shot him into a spare enlarged crystal he had on his desk, after taking off his hearing aid. He didn't need it. It was only an amplifier so that he could hear the advice of whoever was in there at the time. I put him in and clipped the mike onto my shirt.
"What are you doing?" asked the bubble-dancer.
"Look," I said. "This fella could do it. And someone's got to take the other lectures. And I'm never going to get to be a qualified professor any other way."
"But I thought they said he didn't know anything?" the bubble-dancer asked.
"He must remember some of it, or I'll oscillate him at a high frequency."
Meanwhile, I thought I'd practice laughing, "hig, hig, hig." But the former Director did not seem to find it funny.