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it’s part of a game.
A baby is born with three instinctive fears: of loud noises, of falling, and of the total absence of light. That’s why it’s considered so funny to jump at someone and shout ‘Boo!’ That’s why it’s such fun to ride a roller coaster. And that’s why the Tunnel of Mystery was something everybody wanted to see at first hand. People came out of that Darkness shaking, breathless, half dead with fear, but they kept on paying to get in. The fact that a few of those who took the ride came out of it in a rather intense state of shock only added to the appeal.”
    “Because most people assumed that
they’d
be tough enough to withstand whatever it was that had shaken up the others so much, is that it?”
    “Exactly, Doctor.”
    “And when some people came out not just highly upset but actually dead of fright? Even if the Exposition managers couldn’t see their way clear to shutting the thing down after that, I’d imagine that potential customers would have become few and far between, once the news of the deaths got around.”
    “Ah, quite the contrary,” said Cubello, smiling triumphantly. “The same psychological mechanism operated, though even more strongly. After all, if people with weak hearts wanted to go through the Tunnel, it was at their own risk—why be surprised at what happened to them? The City Council discussed the whole thing at great length and agreed finally to put a doctor in the front office and have every customer undergo a physical examination before getting into the car. That actually
boosted
ticket sales.”
    “In that case,” Sheerin said, “why is the Tunnel shut down now? From what you’ve told me, I’d expect it to be doing terrific business, lines stretching from Jonglor all the way to Khunabar, mobs of people going in the front way and a steady stream of corpses being hauled out the back.”
    “Dr. Sheerin!”
    “Well, why
isn’t
it still open, if even the deaths didn’t trouble anybody?”
    “The liability insurance problem,” Cubello said.
    “Ah. Of course.”
    “Despite your grisly little turn of phrase just now, actual deaths were very few and far between—three, I think, or maybe five. The families of those who passed away were given adequate indemnities and the cases were closed. What ultimately became a problem for us was not the death rate but the survival rate among those who underwent traumatic disturbance. It began to become clear that some might require hospitalization for prolonged periods—an ongoing expense, a constant financial drain on the municipality and its insurers.”
    “I see,” Sheerin said morosely. “If they simply fall down dead, it’s a one-shot cost. Buy off the relatives and that’s that. But if they linger for months or years in a public institution, the price can get to be too high.”
    “Perhaps a little harshly put,” said Cubello. “But that is essentially the calculation the City Council was forced to make.”
    “Dr. Sheerin seems a little testy this morning,” Kelaritan said to the lawyer. “Possibly the idea of going through the Tunnel himself is troublesome to him.”
    “Absolutely not,” said Sheerin at once.
    “Of course you understand that there is no real necessity for you to—”
    “There is,” Sheerin said.
    There was silence in the car. Sheerin peered somberly at the changing landscape, the curious angular scaly-barked trees, the bushes with flowers of odd metallic hues, the peculiarly high and narrow houses with pointed eaves. He had rarely been this far north before. There was something very disagreeable about the look of the entire province—and about this crew of mealy-mouthed cynical people, too. He told himself that he’d be glad to get home to Saro again.
    But first—the Tunnel of Mystery—
    The Jonglor Centennial Exposition was spread over a vast area of parkland just east of the city. It was a mini-city in itself, and quite spectacular in its own way, Sheerin thought. He saw