Garvin, stupefied, was grappling with the idea that the Centrans thought six new patients a day, with routine follow-up treatment, was about right. If Garvin got six patients really cured in a year, it was cause for celebration. Baffled, he took a fresh look at the patient Poffis was ready to treat.
The patient had watched with interest the exchange between Poffis and Moklin, but now stiffened as he saw Poffis come toward the cell. He threateningly approached the bars, bared his teeth and suddenly reached out through the bars to take a grab at Poffis's uniform.
Garvin watched intently, wondering what Poffis could possibly do now.
Poffis instantly seized the out-stretched hand, whirled and yanked downward.
The patient screamed and slammed against the bars.
Poffis promptly kicked him back against the opposite wall, then unlocked the cell door, went in, banged the door shut and tossed the keys to Moklin. The patient shook his hand dazedly, felt his shoulder, glared, let out a roar of rage and sprang across the cell at Poffis.
Poffis whirled, shot out a leg, tripped the patient, and sent him smashing head-first into the far corner of the cell.
The patient lay on his face for about fifteen seconds, then sat up dazedly, stared at Poffis and sucked in a deep breath. His voice came out loud and ringing.
"I got a right to go to a rest home! I'm crazy! I'm a patient! I'm sick! You can't touch me! I got a right to go to a rest home!"
Poffis said angrily, "If I knew where that idea came from, I could get this work-load down to normal. All right, Moklin. Read the charge."
Captain Moklin unfolded a long sheet of paper and read in a clear sober voice:
"Prisoner committed following acts, which have been proved by careful and thorough inquiry. He:
"1) Threatened to beat up his own mess-mates, and then took their food from them by force.
"2) Threatened his squad-leader with a knife, when reprimanded.
"3) While off-duty, struck an elderly man who happened to step in his way, thus bringing disgrace on the armed forces.
"4) On being charged, as above, laughed in the face of his commanding officer, Lieutenant Boggis, and referred to Lieutenant Boggis as a 'molk.'
"5) Struck Lieutenant Boggis on the face with his open hand.
"6) Threatened Lieutenant Boggis that if Lieutenant Boggis defended himself, he (the prisoner) would state under oath that Lieutenant Boggis struck first.
"7) Resisted the guards summoned to the scene.
"8) While under detention, announced to everyone within hearing that he would receive a medical discharge and be home living on a pension while those who did their duty would be eaten up by Mikerils for their pains. Prisoner taunted all the law-abiding soldiers within hearing that they would soon be at the front defending him.
"9) By voice and act, abused everyone in authority who came near him during detention.
"10) Refused to cooperate with properly designated authorities in curbing his undisciplined actions. This refusal was compounded by disrespect and insult and reflects no detectable principle or ideal, but merely an undisciplined, willful, ill-governed nature, which is urgently in need of correction."
Captain Moklin lowered the paper. "That's it, sir."
"I see," said Poffis. "Well, well. Here we have a full-blown case of it." He studied the patient, who got to his feet, looking apprehensive and defiant.
"Now, then," said Poffis, "the first thing to realize is that how you got here doesn't matter. This is the trap right next to the drain. Either we cure you, or they shoot you. And we aren't given much time to cure you."
"I'm sick!" cried the prisoner. "I want to go to a rest—"
"Luckily," said Poffis, "we've got just the way to cure you. We've developed it over several thousands of years. There are only two things you need to know about this cure: It's quick. And it hurts."
The prisoner opened his mouth, and shut it again. Poffis was moving right along like a planet in its orbit, and showed no sign of stopping for anything.
"There's one reliable way," said Poffis, "that Nature teaches what's right and what's wrong. When you do right, you get rewarded. When you do wrong, you get hurt. Our method is the same, but more condensed."
"Look," said the patient exasperatedly, one hand outstretched, "I'm not responsible. You can't blame me for—"
"The basic idea of the cure is very simple," said Poffis briskly. "It is based on the observation of sages, that there is a real inner self, which is not subject to the phenomena of the physical world, and an outer self which is."
A succession of expressions crossed the patient's face, and ended with a look of defiant outrage. "To the Mikerils with all this stuff!" He followed that with a piece of profanity that took Garvin's breath away, but that left Poffis and Moklin visibly untouched.
"The real inner self," said Poffis, "is conscious of events, because it is 'connected,' by resonances and various nerve-tracts, with the outer physical self that exists in the physical world, and is a type of living protoplasmic machine, serving the inner spiritual self which is not physical."
The patient shouted, "I'm crazy! I WANT TO GO TO A REST HOME!"
Poffis moved steadily along. "To properly treat the patient, it is necessary to distinguish between the true inner self of the patient, the outer physical self which is the medium through which the patient contacts and is contacted by the physical world, and the various traits, habits and emotions which manifest outwardly through the physical body, and inwardly by coloring the information passed to the brain and thence to the real self."
The patient stamped his foot. "Ah for—"
"The real self," said Poffis, "is strictly blameless. The trouble comes from wrong traits and attitudes having been established, usually in childhood, and by their habitual presence having generated emotions which falsely color the information passed to the brain. The cure for this is best administered early by the parent. By inflicting pain without damage, the parent breaks the grip of the wrong emotion, destroys its effects in distorting the information passed to the brain and demonstrates that emotions are temporary and changeable. Seeing the wrong emotion flee before the hand of the parent, the child is emboldened to strike down the wrong emotion himself, and takes the first step towards becoming master in his own house."
The patient ground his teeth, and looked around like one seeking sympathy for the heavy burden under which he labors.
"Punishment," said Poffis methodically, '"should be swift, intense and fleeting, with proper suggestions for future improvement, and should be ended without vindictiveness when the right attitude is firmly established. That's the theory. Now for the practice."
The patient leaned against the bars in an attitude of exaggerated boredom, and looked ready to fall asleep anytime.
"The practice," said Poffis, "is even simpler than the theory. By appropriate action, we first permit the undesirable traits to manifest themselves and promptly deliver painful consequences on each occasion. Next we administer a general treatment designed to loosen up bad traits and induce a cooperative frame of mind, during which we urge improvement. Following this comes formal punishment, then the actual recovery. All this is basically very simple, the difficulty being to properly suit the treatment to the individual patient. That's the practice. Now you have it, and your mind will retain enough so that it may be of use to you later. It's time. Prepare for treatment."
Outside the cell, Moklin opened a faucet that filled a bucket half-full of water. He tossed a sponge into the bucket, picked up a clean towel and a first-aid kit, set a chair just outside a corner of the cell and dusted off the seat of the chair with a whisk broom.
The patient glanced around with a scowl and gave the cell door a quick shake. The door was solidly locked.
Poffis glanced at the wall clock, then cleared his throat with a somewhat pompous, false and irritating sound. He said, "Now, first, permit me to point out—ah—that this method, while it could be used for wrong purposes, is in fact only used for the real good and the genuine—"
Dr. Garvin, outside the cell, squinted at Major Poffis, and tried to get him back into focus. By some trick of vocal wizardly, Poffis began to project such an air of sweet reasonableness that even Garvin felt the urge to get Poffis by the throat and bang his head against the wall. Garvin had no trouble overcoming this impulse, but the patient abruptly ceased looking for a way out, and eyed Poffis.
"—welfare of the patient," Poffis was saying sweetly. "The entire treatment is meant for the patient, who, deprived of proper parental assistance in the initial stages of character-formation, is thus disadvantaged by his defective self-control. We assist the deprived patient in many areas—"
"G'r'r," said the patient. His tail flicked back and forth, and his lips drew back to disclose large sharp teeth.
"—always," said Poffis piously, "to aid in whatever measure may be granted to us the unfortunate, underprivileged—"
The patient blurred forward, seized Poffis around the waist and slammed him to the floor.
Poffis landed stretched out, his forearms taking much of the impact, rolled aside fast as his patient took a flying kick at him, bounded to his feet and landed a blow that sent the patient sprawling.
As the patient stumbled, dazed and fearful, to his feet, Poffis seemed to undergo a delayed action from the fall he'd suffered. He gripped his side and tottered around the cell like someone in the last stage of physical deterioration.
This was too good an opportunity for the patient to resist. He hastened over to start a blow from the floor up, aimed for Poffis's jaw.
Poffis, however, recovered with miraculous speed, moved aside as the blow whistled past and smashed the patient on the jaw.
Garvin watched in stupefaction as Moklin stepped forward with the water bucket.
Poffis was now bent over the unconscious patient, tenderly bathing his bloodied face with a wet sponge.