Three men resting in hospital beds; electrodes suction-clipped on our chests, wired to transmitters, above our heads, Giving out signals – telling our secrets to the Staff Nurse, motionless and intent before her monitoring screens. One, lying back quietly, his radio headset covering his ears’ a troubled look on his face – bad news – he must be wired in to Mars! The other, a broad smile on his face; a music lover, his favourite station serenading him with pleasant morning music; betimes he worries the Staff Nurse by waving his arms like Barbirolli, obliviously – obviously he is wired in to Apollo! No radio playing for me – no atmospherics to interrupt my musing; a nurse glides about busily and quietly, each time she passes by she smiles a dimpled smile at me – me? I am wired in to Venus!