As for what
will happen once treatment begins, I don't know. I doubt whether anyone
knows, since it has never happened before. Offhand, I would say there
are two major alternatives: the patient may reject the therapy out of
hand, in which case he is left with his homicidal mania unabated. Or he
may accept the Martian therapy and reach a cure."
Mr. Follansby's face brightened. "Ah! A cure is possible!"
"You don't understand," Rath said. "He may effect a cure of his
nonexistent Martian psychosis. But to cure something that is not there
is, in effect, to erect a gratuitous delusional system. You might say
that the machine would work in reverse, producing psychosis instead of
removing it."
Mr. Follansby groaned and leaned against a Bell Psychosomatica.
"The result," Rath summed up, "would be to convince the customer that
he was a Martian. A sane Martian, naturally."
Haskins suddenly shouted, "I remember! I remember now! He said he
worked for the New York Rapid Transit Corporation! I remember
distinctly!"
"That's a break," Rath said, reaching for the telephone.
Haskins wiped his perspiring face in relief. "And I just remembered
something else that should make it easier still."
"What?"
"The customer said he had been an alcoholic at one time.
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