And in the council room he had kept his word to Doctor Arnquist. He had
felt Fuzzy quivering on his shoulder; he had sensed the bitter anger in
Black Doctor Tanner's mind, and the temptation deliberately to mellow
that anger had been almost overwhelming, but he had turned it aside. He
had answered questions that were asked him, and listened to the debate
with a growing sense of hopelessness.

And now the chance was gone. The decision was being made.

He paced the floor, trying to remember the expressions of the other
doctors, trying to remember what had been said, how many had seemed
friendly and how many hostile, but he knew that only intensified the
torture. There was nothing he could do now but wait.

At last the door opened, and an orderly nodded to him. Dal felt his legs
tremble as he walked into the room and faced the semi-circle of doctors.
He tried to read the answer on their faces, but even Black Doctor
Arnquist sat impassively, doodling on the pad before him, refusing to
meet Dal's eyes.

The White Doctor took up a sheet of paper. "We have considered your
application, and have reached a decision. You will be happy to know that
your application for assignment has been tentatively accepted."

Dal heard the words, and it seemed as though the room were spinning
around him. He wanted to shout for joy and throw his arms around Black
Doctor Arnquist, but he stood perfectly still, and suddenly he noticed
that Fuzzy was very quiet on his shoulder.