"It has its advantages," Hocking replied. He flashed his grimace again. "I've not met many Cs."

It was impossible for Spence to determine if the skeleton was joking or not. True, Cs were a rarity, and Bs were almost nonexistent, but on Gotham there were plenty of both. Before he had time to wonder further, Hocking spoke again.

"What is your specialty, Reston?"

"I sleep," said Spence sarcastically.

"And do you dream?"

Spence prickled at the notion that thin specter might know something about his special problem. He also noticed that Hocking's voice came not from his throat but from a source at either side of his head. The chair amplified his voice as he spoke. This colored Hocking's speech with an eerie cast, as it overlapped his natural voice somewhat and have Spence the impression that Hocking was speaking a duet with himself. Hocking noticed his glance, and his voice automatically lowered a tone. Hocking had only to think and some need was accomplished. Having never actually seen one of the rare and expensive biorobotic devices, Spence(, wondered what else the chair could do. …

THE LECTURE BEGAN AND ended much as lectures do.

Spence, remembered nothing of it, except the feeling all through that the person sitting next to him was watching him, appraising him, sizing him up for some unknown purpose. Spence squirmed in his seat uncomfortably.

When at last the lecture was over, he stood up, turning to tell Hocking that he would see him again. On an orbiting university, no matter how huge, one always ran into the same people. But as he turned, he realized Hocking was already gone. He thought he glimpsed the back of the white ovoid chair in the flood that moved nut the doors of the lecture hall, but he was not sure.

Spence wandered along to the commissary nearby. One was conveniently located on every level of the station since scientists hated to be more than a few steps away from their coffee. He fell into the short line and picked up one of the blue circular trays and a matching plastic mug.