 How does Zarwell feel about Bergstrom?
Transcriber’s note: This story was published in Galaxy magazine, June 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. [p 135 ] By CHARLES V. DE VET monkey on his back Under the cloud of cast-off identities lay the shape of another man— was it himself? Illustrated by DILLON HE was walking endlessly down a long, glass-walled corridor. Bright sunlight slanted in through one wall, on the blue knapsack across his shoulders. The truth lurked in some corner of his consciousness, but it was not reached by surface awareness. The corridor opened at last into a large high-domed room, much like a railway station or an air terminal. At the sight of him a man leaning negligently against a stone pillar, to his right but within vision, straightened and barked an order to him, “Halt!” [p 136 ] Two men hurried through a doorway of a small anteroom to his left, calling to him. With no break in pace he veered into an opening beside the escalator. At the first turn he saw that the aisle merely circled the stairway, coming out into the depot again on the other side. He slipped a coin into a pay slot, opened the zipper on his bag and pulled out a flat briefcase. It took him only a few seconds to push the case into the compartment, lock it and slide the key along the floor beneath the locker. But the fact that they had been expecting him meant that others would very probably be waiting outside. A tall ruffian, copper-brown face damp with perspiration and body oil, grabbed him by the jacket and slammed him back against the lockers. Bergstrom’s neat-boned, fair-skinned face betrayed no emotion other than an introspective stillness of his normally alert gaze. The office window was open, but it let in no freshness, only the mildly rank odor that pervaded all the planet’s habitable area. The floor beneath Zarwell’s feet assumed abruptly the near transfluent consistency of a damp sponge. It rose in a foot-high wave and rolled gently toward the far wall. “When psychiatry was a less exact science,” his voice went on, seeming to come from a great distance, “a doctor had to spend weeks, sometimes months or years interviewing a patient. The floor continued its transmutation, and Zarwell sank deep into viscous depths. ZARWELL found himself standing on a vast plain. He should know all about the instrument, its purpose and workings, but he could not bring his thoughts into rational focus.
 Zarwell thinks Bergstrom is an alright guy. However, Zarwell isn't interested in making friends. He just wants to retire in anonymity.
 Zarwell is afraid of Bergstrom. The dreams induced by Bergstrom's drugs grow more and more disturbing.  Zarwell is suspicious of Bergstrom. Bergstrom always seems to be uncomfortable in Zarwell's presence.  Zarwell is suspicious of Bergstrom. He's sure Bergstrom has been tampering with his memories.  Zarwell thinks Bergstrom is an alright guy. However, Zarwell isn't interested in making friends. He just wants to retire in anonymity.