Now, as he prepared for a graceful retreat, he said, «The tumor, whatever it is, seems to be in the wrong part of my brain to be causing my trouble. Sex, as I understand it, is controlled by the paleocortex, what you people call the limbic system. Of course, if it is a tumor (which it wasn't — it was Lord L's damned crystal) I suppose the effect could spread to other parts of my brain?»

Dr. Poindexter looked startled, then frowned. Plainly he did not approve of amateur diagnosticians. He thought again that there was something decidedly odd about this handsome young man with the strange shadow in his brain.

«If you know that much,» the doctor said, «you surely know that all parts of the brain are closely interrelated. And you are right-if it is a tumor and it looks like one, it could certainly affect your sexual drive.»

«That's not quite the problem, Doctor. There's nothing wrong with my sexual drive. If anything, I am in overdrive all the time. The trouble is that when I get right down to it, I can't do anything.»

«Nothing happens at all? Not even a partial erection?»

Blade winced inwardly. It still hurt to admit it, even to a doctor. «Not even that, Doctor. Absolutely nothing.»

Dr. Poindexter was a brain man not a sexologist, but he was interested. He flipped through the papers on his desk. «You're not married, I see. So it probably isn't a question of too much familiarity, of staleness, of a marriage gone sour.»

«It is certainly not that.»

The doctor pursed his lips and stared at Blade. «You have tried, I presume, with more than one… er… partner?»

Blade smiled. «In the last month, Doctor, I have tried it with fourteen partners.»