"Well, let's see. There are so many, it's hard to know where to begin. Now here's one that might do. In the thought-inoculation department of the army."
"Thought-inoculation?"
"Yes, you see it's necessary to be sure that no private in the army should ever have a thought; otherwise, how could we maintain discipline? We have found it isn't safe to rely on laws only, so we have invented an anti-thought serum, which acts on the nervous system so as to paralyze the thought-centers of the brain. The results are excellent; the recruit has no power left except to obey orders—which makes him a perfect soldier."
"A very good idea," I acknowledged, wishing I might have the formula of this wonderful serum to bring home for use in our own armies.
"A derivative of the same drug, known as 'the Mu' is fed by big business firms to employees. It is taken internally, and the results are said to be excellent.... However, a job in this department is not for you!" concluded the agent, sadly. "You're a barbarian, and what do barbarians know of thought-prevention?"
"More than you think!" I snapped, defensively.
"Now here's another good job," he went on, still gazing at the chart by means of the opera glasses. "We're in need of spies. The recent turnover in that department—"
"No, thanks!" I decided. "I don't care to be a spy—"
"But think of the honor! No profession is more esteemed! If you survive, you'll be given a high position in the diplomatic corps; and if, on the other hand, you are turned—"
"That's just it! I'm satisfied not to be turned over!" I asserted, remembering the prison I had occupied just after my arrival, and the execution of my cell-mates beneath the violet ray.