[DOAML-interest] an must also be an

[Kamada M. <lit...@ro...>]

Good." "One miss," Stanton said as he shrugged into the robe. "Yeah.
Your timing was off a shade there, I guess. It's hard for me to tell
till I look at the slow-motion photographs. Your arms and hands are just
blurs to me when they're moving that fast. But you managed to chop
another ten seconds off your previous record, anyway." Stanton looked at
him. "You reset the timer again," he said accusingly. But there was a
grin on his face. The P.T. man grinned back. "Yup. Come on, step into
the mummy case." He waved toward the narrow niche in the wall of the
court, a niche just big enough to hold a standing man. Stanton stepped
in, and various instrument pickups came out of the walls and touched him
at various points on his body. Hidden machines recorded his heartbeat,
his blood pressure, his brain activity, his muscular tension, his
breathing, and s