"So I believe you," I told him. "That doesn't finish it. We have to convince them. I don't like this, but the simplest way would be to volunteer for their hibitor injection. I've found out Madison and his crowd don't believe men awake, only assorted dopes."
Johnson deflated his area of the room with his breath intake.
"Okay," he said at last. "I guess so."
When Johnson gave us what we needed to clear the problem, it didn't take me long to finish processing the rest of the handful of possible loners we had located. Unlike Johnson, all the rest had reasons for their self-imposed loneliness. Unlike Meyverik none of their reasons were associated with the interstellar flight. They instead involved literary research, swindles, isolated paranoid insanity and other things in which the government had no interest.
Suddenly I found my job was done and that we had located only the two of them.
Madison read my final report braced on the edge of my desk, his hand comradely on my shoulder.
"Good job, Doc," he vouched replacing the papers on my blotter with a final rustle. "Now I've got news for you. The government wants you to test these boys for us now that you've found 'em for us."
I closed my jaw. "That's completely out of line—my line. I know you need a contemporary man for that job."
Madison punched me on the bicep, fast enough to hurt.