He yanked open the door, shaking with fury. "But I'm not afraid!" he shouted. "I'm never afraid." He stepped down the corridor, clacking his sandals sharply on the

silver floor, ke-tat-ke-tat-ke-tat-ke-tat, indifferent to the slumber of his house staff, unaware that this early morning skeletal clack awakened twelve hearts to hatred and dread. He thrust open the door of his analyst's suite, entered and at once lay down on the couch.

Carson Breen, Esper Medical Doctor 2, was already awake and ready for him. As Reich's staff analyst he slept the "nurse's sleep" in which he remained en rapport with his patient and could only be awakened by his needs. That one scream had been enough for Breen. Now he was seated alongside the couch, elegant in embroidered gown (his job paid twenty thousand credits a year) and sharply alert (his employer was generous but demanding).

"Go ahead, Mr. Reich." "The Man With No Face again," Reich growled. "Nightmares?" "You lousy blood-sucker, peep me and find out. No. Sorry. Childish of

me. Yes, nightmares again. I was trying to rob a bank. Then I was trying to catch a train. Then someone was singing. Me, I think. I'm trying to give you the pictures best I can. I don't think I'm leaving anything out..." There was a long pause. Finally Reich blurted: "Well? You peep anything?"

"You persist that you cannot identify The Man With No Face, Mr. Reich?"

"How can I? I never see it. All I know is..."

"I think you can. You simply will not."

"Listen," Reich burst out in guilty rage. "I pay you twenty thousand. If the best you can do is make idiotic statements..."

"Do you mean that, Mr. Reich, or is it simply a part of the general anxiety syndrome?"

"There is no anxiety," Reich shouted. "I'm not afraid. I'm never..." He stopped himself, realizing the inutility of ranting while the deft mind of the peeper searched underneath his overturning words. "You're wrong anyway," he said sulkily.