THE EXAMINATION

Carl Peterson found a postcard in his box requesting him to report for a ten o’clock appointment with Doctor Benway in the Ministry of Mental Hygiene and Prophylaxis. . . .
“What on earth could they want with me?” he thought irritably. . . . “A mistake most likely.” But he knew they didn’t make mistakes. . . . Certainly not mistakes of identity. . . .
It would not have occurred to Carl to disregard the appointment even though failure to appear entailed no penalty. . . . Freeland was a welfare state. If a citizen
wanted anything from a load of bone meal to a sexual partner some department was ready to offer effective aid. The threat implicit in this enveloping benevolence
stifled the concept of rebellion. . .. Carl walked through the Town Hall Square. . . .
Nickel nudes sixty feet high with brass genitals soaped
themselves under gleaming showers. . .. The Town Hall cupola, of glass brick and copper crashed into the sky.
Carl stared back at a homosexual American tourist who dropped his eyes and fumbled with the light filters of his Leica. . ..
Carl entered the steel enamel labyrinth of the Ministry, strode to the information desk . . . and presented his card.
“Fifth floor . . . Room twenty-six . . . ”
In room twenty-six a nurse looked at him with cold undersea eyes.
“Doctor Benway is expecting you,” she said smiling.
“Go right in.