Only the cream of the crop get into ultra-prestigious Modern University, and students are virtually guaranteed powerful and high-paid positions upon graduation. Drinking and sex are allowed, and even encouraged, and everything students need - classrooms, restaurants, shopping, and bars - is self-contained inside the school's fifty-story high-rise tower.

But there's a catch. Once you start, you can't drop out or transfer to another school. And behind its glossy exterior, Modern has a terrible secret, a macabre and horrible way of ensuring its students perform to the best of their ability. When one young student, Gary Fort, witnesses the unspeakable truth of the school's "Self-Discipline Plan," he decides to fight back, and the suspense builds until the book's chilling conclusion ...

Equal parts campus novel, satire on modern education, and gripping horror story, No Transfer (1967) earned rave reviews from the nation's leading critics. This reprint, the first in half a century, includes a new afterword by the author, who wrote it at age 20 while a student at Michigan State University.

"A remarkable first novel .?.?. shockingly convincing." - The New York Times

"Walton is called by his publishers 'a genuine voice of his time' and they claim this novel is already being compared to Lord of the Flies and The Lottery. I don't doubt it a bit." - Arizona Republic

??"An academic shocker with quite a hook; one reads it in a state of frozen uneasiness. This is a contemporary chiller of and for our time, or just beyond - the achievement tests of 1984?" - Kirkus Reviews

"A low-key horror story that satirizes present-day big-university education. This chilling story builds to a strong climax." - Publishers Weekly

"Wanta take a 'trip' without LSD? Step right this way, baby .?.?. To say that this book is a shocker is to low rate it." - American Statesman

"Just a note. While reading this one keep in mind that it's fiction." - Boston Globe

"Chilling and subtle .?.?. completely unexpected .?.?. A half-mad world of the young with an Orwellian flavor and an aura of believability." - Sacramento Bee