have groups of watchers if you're so worried about one being alone?"

"We tried that, it was worse, Barton. They killed one another."

"Well, sir, my being alone is a good thing then, in that respect."

"Have you ever thought that you would kill yourself?"

"Why no, sir. Why should I?"

"Because you hate yourself. In a society, people can externalize their self-hate. They can hate society, other people. You can only turn your hate inward, on yourself."

"But I don't hate anything, sir."

"You do!"

"But, sir, I don't."

"Barton, I said you hate yourself. It's in all the charts, everything. We all hate ourselves to some extent, why should you be different from everybody else?"

"Why not, sir?"

Von Ulrich pressed his hand over his eyes, and walked out.

It was like a dream with a shadow drifting in and out and in again, and it was Von Ulrich, looking so much older this time. "It's been almost fifteen years, Barton. Fifteen years."

"So? Fifteen years earth time. What does that mean here to me, sir?" Barton smiled, closed his eyes. "What does time matter in your mother's womb?"

"You've developed a definite measurable syndrome, Barton. Excessive lethargy and a sleeping compulsion. Eventually it will destroy your efficiency as a watcher if it hasn't already."

Von Ulrich set off an alarm and in less than four seconds Barton was over there sending a report out to the authorities, a report Von Ulrich immediately canceled as being false.

Von Ulrich seemed to dissolve in a haze of fading light.

"Is that you, Von Ulrich, sir?"

"I'm afraid so, Barton. Back again."

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