This story unfolds within the claustrophobic confines of one man’s mind. Its unnamed male protagonist is apparently taking a tour of a modernistic model house in a large city, led by an unnamed female guide. He feels profoundly alienated from his surroundings but also trapped by them. He cannot tell if his unease derives from being in the city, from the building itself (which has doorways that turn out to be walls and vice versa), or perhaps even from the high-tech names of the objects and substances around him. He is certain of one thing, however: Like a rat that the Professor has taught to jump at a certain card to get its food, he has dutifully jumped through all the right doors—only now the doors no longer work.
He cannot stop thinking about the rats the Professor drove crazy by forcing them to deal with problems beyond their mental capacity. When the Professor changed his cards so that the rats could no longer find their food, the animals confronted an insoluble problem. After several painful stages, the rats went insane and were eventually willing to let anything be done to them. The protagonist feels that he has reached that stage himself, seeing in the reflection of his own eyes the same imploring look that the rats had.
In this washable, synthetic, scientifically tested, perfectly self-contained, inhuman house, he becomes convinced that his own mental torment is deliberate. “They,” like the Professor, wait until their subjects are completely trained for a certain door, and then they change it. He recalls the many doors that once seemed to lead to the rewards people are supposed to desire. For himself as a child, the door of religion, of prayers and holy-sounding words, seemed to work, until one day that door would not open, leading to the first painful bewilderment. Other doors followed: science and...
(The entire section is 754 words.)