Slightly dazed-looking, the man obediently undipped the badge from his lapel and slipped it into the reader. He waited patiently until the machine buzzed at him, then took the badge back.

“Thank you. And may we recommend an extra dosage of sedation? Etracene, enervol and pinural are compatible within group 3A.” The old man nodded dumbly and shuffled off, to be swept up by the crowd streaming by. LUH cut the picture and turned her attention to a pair of children who, giggling, were peeking in at the edge of the screen and then ducking out of sight, to hide behind a plastisteel bench in the middle of their school plaza. LUH smiled as she pressed a series of keys on her panel. A kind but stern baritone voice said:

“This monitor is to be used for emergencies or special requests only. All routine information can be easily obtained through the bulletin panels installed at every intersection.”

One little boy got up from behind the bench, stuck his tongue out at the screen, and then ran off laughing. LUH watched him until he disappeared around the corner of a building.

Then another scene, in a screen far up in the left corner of her set, caught her eye. She transferred the picture to the four main screens directly in front of her.

“What’s wrong?”

A man was screaming hysterically as he stood in a sanitary. There was no sound coming from him, though. Frantically, LUH worked the switched on her panel.

“… me… help me…” the man was shrieking.

“What’s wrong?”

The man thrust both hands into the medicine cabinet, knocking bottles everywhere. As they clattered to the floor, he dropped to his knees and started pouring out handfulls of pills and swallowing them madly.

LUH punched a single red button. A taped voice began saying:

“Take four red capsules, in ten minutes take two more. Help is on the way. Do not be afraid… Take four red capsules…”