MIT students by the hundreds pour into their student center--not to the fifth floor library, but to the second floor sanctuary. Instead of checking meter readings with their lab partners, they speak of how their work is being used, how they are being used. In recognition of their manipulation by a society which forces them to produce weapons of oppression, in sympathy now with soldiers like Mike O'Conner, for the first time feeling themselves oppressed, they begin to organize. And with the prod of Sanctuary, the force of respect for another human being who has given a year of his life to bring them together, they organize strongly because they organize themselves.
             Now, without hecklers at the laboratory door shouting "Murderer! Slave!" there is the man inside the laboratory wondering "Am I a slave? And a murderer?", answering that he is and no longer wants to be. There, right there, is a graduate of MIT refusing a job offer from General Dynamics. Everyone hears the conversations in the laboratories. They feel the energy of indignation in the halls that were not long ago so very stale. Everyone is affected by Sanctuary.
             A technician at the Instrumentation Laboratory walks into Sanctuary after lunch: "Just wanted to see what was going on." Mike says he would like to see technicians working on developing air pollution control and high speed ground transportation rather than improving Polaris missiles; that is one reason why he is here. The technician: "Yeah. He's right. But what am I going to do about it?" Mike: "Look at me." The technician is not really committed to radical change or anything even approaching that. But still, even if just in the back of his mind, he's aware that someone thinks that what he is doing is wrong, maybe even evil. He knows that kid up there on the platform is going to spend a year longer behind bars because he thinks something is wrong and wants to change it. Perhaps he's a bit pissed that he, a good te...