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for it to move, then sits. "I'm still mulling over what you posted in People's Therapy Multiway last week. Allostatic load and all. That the pressures of everyday life can bend us like overstressed metal bars."
    Martin nods. "An explanation of a general idea for a general readership. Why does it concern you?"
    "I can't afford the disgrace."
    "What disgrace?"
    "I think I'm exceeding my load limits." A thin sour chuckle. "I'm about to break."
    "Suffering from stress is no disgrace, Mr. Crest. We all face it at some time or another in our lives."
    "Well, I'm still wrestling with the idea of my physicality. I was raised Baptist. And for some of my . . . connections,friends, well, that sort of weakness doesn't sit well."
    "A not uncommon prejudice, but nothing more than that--prejudice."
    "It's hard for me--for them--to accept that illness, in the mind, can result from something other than.., you know. A defect in the soul."
    "That's the way it truly is, Mr. Crest. Nothing to do with inborn character defects. We're all fragile."
    "Dr. Burke, I can't be fragile." Even through the vagueness, Crest's face hardens. "My people won't let me. My wife is as high natural as they come, and everyone in her family. I feel like they're expecting me to fall, you know, from their grace. Any minute." He smacks his hands together lightly. "I suppose that's a kind of stress, too."
    "Sounds like it could be," Martin says.
    "If I had to be therapied... I would lose a lot, Martin."
    "Happens to the best of us."
    "You keep saying that," Crest says. "It's just not true. It doesn't happen to the best of us. The best of us cope. The best of us have better chemistry, stronger neurons, a better molecular balance, just an all-around better constitution.., we're made of finer alloy. The others.., they fail because they're flawed."
    Instinctively, Martin does not like this man--he feels uncomfortable in his presence. But many strong-willed patients in deep pain come across this way.
    Crest slaps his hand on the chair arm. "I am haunted, Dr. Burke. There are days when I know I'm going to crumble. Some of the corporations I work with, making very large deals--they require an inspection every month, can you believe it?"
    Martin smiles. "It's not called for, that's for sure."
    SLANT
    letting a deal fall through. A brain race." Crest smiles back at Martin. The smile seems to fall in shadow, though the room is brightly lit. "Very American. Reliability above creativity."
    "Intelligence and creativity often accompany more fragile constitutions," Martin says. The lecture is familiar, meant to reassure. "There's every evidence some people are more sensitive and alert, more attuned to reality, and this puts a greater load on their systems. Still, these people make themselves very useful in our society. We couldn't get along without them--"
    Crest shakes his head vigorously. "Genius is next to madness, is that what you're saying, Doctor?"
    "Genius is a particular state of mind.., a type of mind, only distantly comparable to the types I'm talking about."
    "Like a genie in the head? Just rub it the right way and out it comes? Well, I'm no genius," Crest chuckles tensely, "and I haven't been accused of being very sensitive... So why do I worry? I mean, the type of decisions I'm called upon to make demand tough thinking, maybe even a lack of human sensitivity... And above all else, stability. I have to stand up to tough conditions for long periods of time."
    "Well, your name is well known, Mr. Crest."
    Crest raises a finger and jabs at the ceiling. "One little slip... Down from high natural to, say, a simple untherapied." Crest shudders. "One little inappropriate thought, and my wife takes her connections with her--right out of the house. I honestly think I'm going to obsess myself into just what I fear, over this.
    "Dr. Burke, this conversation has to be absolutely secure. Confidential. I am willing to pay a hundred thousand dollars for you to secretly take care of me if I