"What do you mean?" Winter's good-natured face was puzzled.
"Look." Kramer stood up, pacing back and forth, his hands in his uniform pockets. "He was my teacher in college. I respected him as a man, as well as a teacher. He was more than a voice, a talking book. He was a person, a calm, kindly person I could look up to. I always wanted to be like him, someday. Now look at me."
"Look at what I'm asking. I'm asking for his life, as if he were some kind of laboratory animal kept around in a cage, not a man, a teacher at all."
"Do you think he'll do it?"
"I don't know." Kramer went to the window. He stood looking out. "In a way, I hope not."
"But if he doesn't--"
"Then we'll have to find somebody else. I know. There would be somebody else. Why did Dolores have to--"
The vidphone rang. Kramer pressed the button.
"This is Gross." The heavy features formed. "The old man called me. Professor Thomas."
"What did he say?" He