Karen slipped a leaflet into Wheelan's hand. He tossed it aside. "You want to look again?"
"No, I know the procedure. You keep watching. You're the one we want to convince."
She squeezed his arm gently.
"Lots of worry these days," Balderstone said. "People don't know where their next worry's coming from."
Most of the heads, except the ones that were still bent over the leaflet, nodded in agreement.
"Lots of problems people just can't solve. But they still want to give it a try." Balderstone's voice grew louder. "One more chance at bat. That's not the way. Worrying about problems causes fretting. Fretting produces tension. Tense people aren't happy people." Balderstone's hands came up in front of his chest, gradually clenching. "If you can't change the world, I'm informing you, you can change yourself. At least for awhile. That's important. That's what is called escape. It's good for you. Applied lycanthropy."
The lights had been dimming all through his last sentences. A few yards from the merry-go-round the blond young men had a bonfire going.
"We're going to lose all those worries. We're not going to fret. Not now, not for awhile." Balderstone's voice seemed to have taken on some of the crackle of the fire. "Every one of you should have a capsule. Now, who doesn't?"
A dozen hands went up and one of the young men ran through the crowd, giving out capsules from an orange cardboard box.
Balderstone had stepped out of Wheelan's range, but he reappeared wheeling something that looked like a giant sunlamp. It was half again as tall as he was.