There were compelling reasons to do so. The human mind is a tremendously complex thing; it has compartments in it that its owner himself does not suspect. The slippery, poisonous neutrons which plutonium gives off had to escape, or a chain reaction - explosion! - would result. 'You'll say goodbye for me, won't you? And thank the Doctor? I'd rather just slide out before anyone is up.
Harriman started to back out, but Coster roused. I mind a time when I asked a chap that very same question-about me, I mean, not about him. It was just as well-he was completely ignorant of the limits, foibles, habits, vices, illnesses, and care of those useful little beasts, and unaware of his own ignorance. The copilot rocked forward in his gymbals, pulled out the message and tore it off.
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