 What do the settings of Zarwell's comanalyses have in common?
[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. 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 first turn he saw that the aisle merely circled the stairway, coming out into the depot again on the other side. But the fact that they had been expecting him meant that others would very probably be waiting outside. The day was hot, and the room had no air conditioning, still a rare luxury on St. Martin’s. 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. The floor continued its transmutation, and Zarwell sank deep into viscous depths. ZARWELL found himself standing on a vast plain. The evening meal hour was approaching when he reached the Flats, on the way to his apartment. All St. Martin’s has a distinctive smell, as of an arid dried-out swamp, with a faint taint of fish. Zarwell passed a group of smaller children playing a desultory game of lic-lic for pieces of candy and cigarettes. The feeling was there again, like a scene waiting only to be gazed at directly to be perceived. Yet always, when his mind lost its sleep-induced [p 140 ] lethargy, the moment of near understanding slipped away. This morning, however, the sense of disorientation did not pass with full wakefulness. Zarwell moved among them, seldom taking part in the individual clashes, yet a moving force in the conflict . Zarwell was riding a shaggy pony outside a high wall surrounding the stricken metropolis. Zarwell was not the leader of the invaders, only a lesser figure in the rebellion. Now Zarwell was fleeing, pursued by the same bearded men who had been his comrades before. He alighted from a space ship on still another world—another shift in time—and the atmosphere of conflict engulfed him. Actually what you experienced under the drug were not dreams. The recall episodes are always purely random, with no chronological sequence. Or some particular scene may trigger a complete memory return.
 pursuits
 deception  captivity  pursuits  weapons