into molecular substances identical with the pattern electrically projected into it. Whatever was placed in the primary chamber was pierced back and forth at every possible angle by a thousand different types of rays and emanations from the energy sources about the primary chambers. These rays were then the energy directed into the swirling haze of nascent matter. An identical object would take form in about five minutes time and the product's differences from the "pattern object" could not be detected by the strongest microscope.

"Simple," the man in the street might say. Tindar, more familiar with the theory of operation, was also more conscious of the hundreds and hundreds of years of research upon which the theory was based. He had always held a tremendous respect for the scientists who fathered the amazing invention.

Tindar climbed up onto the pneumatic cot and was slipped into the primary cylinder. He was slipping slowly into the mist of sleep as the door of the primary chamber clanked softly behind him. He gazed for a moment at the thousand lens-eyes on the curving walls about him. The eyes suddenly shown with all the colors of the spectrum and bathed his body in a weird and twisted rainbow of heterogeneous rays.

Two Tindars awoke abruptly and sat up on the pneumatic cots. They saw that the cots had been moved and rested against another in a corner of the room. They looked at one another.

"Who's who?" one of them asked.

"We'll have to wait for the attendants," the other shrugged. It was odd. That was practically all you ever had to say to yourself.

Down the hall feet slapped rapidly on the floor and approached the "Dupe" chamber. A taut-faced attendant looked into the room and waved at them frantically with a trembling hand.

"Don't get off your cots, please, sirs," he quavered and was gone.The Tindars stared at one another. "Something novel," they both said. "Listen to the hell they're raising in the other room," one said, breaking the identity of their thought streams. Visor-phones were buzzing; at least a dozen voices were raised in a furious discussion. Another voice could be heard, pleading and distraught. More attendants ran up and down the hall before the "Dupe" chamber. Three uniformed men with faces as white as their uniforms rushed through the waiting room and faced the Tindars.

"Dr. Bronsky will be here in a moment, sirs," one of them said. "What's the 

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