"What other kind?" one countered. "A sanity hearing."
He felt his eyebrows jerk. His sanity? He thought that had been established long ago. Or his lack of it.
Malloy remembered the doctor. He hadn't had much else to do for several years.
He was Dr. Heirson, a graying man with starched face and collar. But the younger man sitting with Heirson behind the broad, translucent desk was a stranger to Malloy. He seemed to be a comic strip drawing, all in straight lines.
"Yes, sir."
"Step forward, Michael," Heirson said.
Malloy stepped forward. It had been a long time since he had been allowed to travel so far.
"Now relax, Michael," the doctor continued, leaning forward and grinning hideously. "All you have to do is tell me the truth."
"No, I don't, Doctor. I'm under no compulsion to tell you the truth. I'm perfectly capable of lying if it would do me any good."