"Better if it had killed him," the Producer said darkly. "We might have covered that up. But we can never get him past the FCC examining officer now—" "I swear he told me forty-four! I swear it!" Dr. Stark made a rush at the phonescreen. Grayson backed away in terror, despite the many miles that were between him and Stark's intended violence. With a snarl, the older doctor reached up and turned off the instrument. "Now we're in for it," he told the others. "Maybe he'll be all right," Manford said. "Maybe he'll snap out of it. A little more anti-dope—" "Nonsense," Stark snapped. "If it hasn't worked by now, it'll never work. The overdose has permanently affected his nervous system. He's an amnesiac for good—an amnesiac with a permanent case of the jitters—" Frick shivered. "God! What a fate!" The Producer looked wise. "Yes," he said solemnly. "He'd be better off dead, wouldn't he?" The Staff stared at him. "You know what I'm talking about," T.D. said. "He'd be better off dead. Better for him, for the Thrill Show, for us." "Well," Manford said feebly. "Well, nothing!" The Producer's voice was harsh. "Do you get the significance of all this? Do you know what happens when the FCC medical officer wants to re-check Spizer? An injunction! A court battle! Then Spizer goes on the stand as Exhibit A, and we lose. No more Thrill Show." He looked at their faces individually. "No more jobs. Bankruptcy. Poverty. The Jam." This time, the shiver was collective. "We can't let that happen!" Manford licked his lips. "What about the sponsors? They got pull, don't they? They need us, don't they? I mean, nothing else will give 'em the kind of ratings they get from the Thrill Show—" "Their hands will be tied," T.D. said. "One slip is all the Federal boys have been waiting for. And with all that foreign criticism our State Department's been getting—" "They still buy our films abroad," another Staff man said glumly. "That won't matter." The Producer sat down heavily, and put the cold end of his hookahmatic in his
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