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The
next
morning
Martini
is
behind
the
control
panel
in
the
tub
room
,
playing
like
he
's
a
jet
pilot
.
The
poker
game
stops
to
grin
at
his
act
.
"
EeeeeeaahHOOoomeerr
.
Ground
to
air
,
ground
to
air
:
object
sighted
four-oh-sixteen-hundred
--
appears
to
be
enemy
missile
.
Proceed
at
once
!
EeeahhOOOmmmm
.
"
Spins
a
dial
,
shoves
a
lever
forward
and
leans
with
the
bank
of
the
ship
.
He
cranks
a
needle
to
"
ON
FULL
"
at
the
side
of
the
panel
,
but
no
water
comes
out
of
the
nozzles
set
around
the
square
tile
booth
in
front
of
him
.
They
do
n't
use
hydrotherapy
any
more
,
and
nobody
's
turned
the
water
on
.
Brand-new
chrome
equipment
and
steel
panel
never
been
used
.
Except
for
the
chrome
the
panel
and
shower
look
just
like
the
hydrotherapy
outfits
they
used
at
the
old
hospital
fifteen
years
ago
:
nozzles
capable
of
reaching
parts
of
the
body
from
every
angle
,
a
technician
in
a
rubber
apron
standing
on
the
other
side
of
the
room
manipulating
the
controls
on
that
panel
,
dictating
which
nozzles
squirt
where
,
how
hard
,
how
hot
--
spray
opened
soft
and
soothing
,
then
squeezed
sharp
as
a
needle-you
hung
up
there
between
the
nozzles
in
canvas
straps
,
soaked
and
limp
and
wrinkled
while
the
technician
enjoyed
his
toy
.
"
EeeeaaooOOOoommm
...
.
Air
to
ground
,
air
to
ground
:
missile
sighted
;
coming
into
my
sights
now
...
.
Martini
bends
down
and
aims
over
the
panel
through
the
ring
of
nozzles
.
He
closes
one
eye
and
peeps
through
the
ring
with
the
other
eye
"
On
target
!
Ready
...
Aim
...
Fi
--
!
"
His
hands
jerk
back
from
the
panel
and
he
stands
bolt
upright
,
hair
flying
and
both
eyes
bulging
out
at
the
shower
booth
so
wild
and
scared
all
the
card-players
spin
around
in
their
chairs
to
see
if
they
can
see
it
too
--
but
they
do
n't
see
anything
in
there
but
the
buckles
hanging
among
the
nozzles
on
stiff
new
canvas
straps
.
Martini
turns
and
looks
straight
at
McMurphy
.
No
one
else
.
"
Did
n't
you
see
thum
?
Did
n't
you
?
"
"
See
who
,
Mart
?
I
do
n't
see
anything
.
"
"
In
all
those
straps
?
Did
n't
you
?
"
