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Graham inclined his head a little. Elaine Graham sprang to her feet. "I'm terribly sorry," she apologized contritely. "It's just that I " Bond took off the headband abruptly. "I'm sorry, too," he said. "I was prying." He looked down at the device. "I'm not too sure about this thing," he added. "It works. I can see that much. But I'm almost afraid it works too well. What's it going to cause?"
Yuara himself had inserted feathers in his nose and donned a headband of tall parrot plumes a trifle more ornate than those worn by the ordinary fighters, and somehow the simple addition seemed to transform him into a bigger, fiercer man. Also, his eyes now held a smoldering light which had not been there before. The older man, Rana, the subchief, glanced swiftly along the line of new faces.
"I feel so silly!" he giggled. Abruptly he closed his mouth and stared pugnaciously at the black-and-chrome machine. "So you think you can make me sane, huh?" The Regenerator didn't answer. "Oh, well, go ahead and try." He slipped the headband over his forehead, crossed his arms on his chest and leaned back. Nothing happened. Caswell settled himself more comfortably on the couch.
"Operation is simple in the extreme. Since the first model, refinements have been added, and it's unnecessary now for an operator to make any adjustments, other than intensity." He picked up the power pack. "This is the power pack, which is plugged into the headband, thus." He paused as he connected the two plugs.
You make the sessions as short or as long as you like. You are the boss! And of course you can end a session at any time. That's all there is to it! Simple, isn't it? Now plug in your General Motors Regenerator and GET SANE! "Nothing hard about that," Caswell said to himself. He pushed the Regenerator closer to the couch and plugged it in. He lifted the headband, started to slip it on, stopped.
To have a Vestal, clad in the awe-inspiring dignity of her white robes, with all her badges of office, six braids, headdress, headband, tassels, ribbons, brooch and all descend from her dazzlingly upholstered carriage and invade the courtyard of their hive was thrilling but still more disconcerting to a swarm of slum spawn.
I am going down to eat the fruit of the trees," and they said again, "Please come; it is very near. If you do not like her we will go wherever you wish." So Kanag went with them, and when they arrived he flew to the top of the betel-nut tree, and he saw the pretty girl, and he flew to another betel-nut tree above her. "What can I do, if I become a man now? I have no clothes and headband."
The helpers said, "Do not worry about that. Your father and mother told us to give you whatever you wish, and we have everything here." So Kanag went down and took the clothes and headband and he became a man. He went and sat on the girl's skirt and she said, "Do not harm me. If you are going to cut me, do it only in one place so there will not be so much to heal."
"I felt the same way," he thought reassuringly. "Sometimes. I still do. All I can tell you is what you've already found out for yourselves. It works. I'm told it's a sort of telepathic amplifier and radiator. But as I told you, I don't understand its principles. As to practice? I'm still meeting interesting people. So will you." He took off the headband.
The sun's level beams fell on the masses of golden waves that swept in soft little ripples back from the white brow to a coil of gold on the white neck, held, like the Indian girl's, with a headband of wrought silver, and goldveined turquoise; it fell on the clear, smooth skin, the pink bloom of the cheek, the red lips, the white teeth, the big dark eyes with their fringe of long lashes beneath straight-penciled dark brows; on the curves of the white throat and the round white arms.
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