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"Good," Malone said. "But I still don't see how I was supposed to know that you--"
"I answered you, silly," Lou said. "I kept on answering you.
Remember?"
Malone blinked, focused and then said, very slowly, "That was my imagination. Please tell me it was my imagination before I go nuts."
"Sorry," Lou said. "It wasn't."
"But that kind of thing," Malone said, "it takes a tremendous amount of power, doesn't it?"
"Not when the receiver is a telepath," Lou said sweetly.
Malone nodded slowly. "That," he said, "is exactly what I'm afraid of.
Don't tell me--"
There was silence.
"Well?" Malone said.
"You said not to tell you," Lou said instantly.
"All right," Malone said. "I rescind the order. Am I a telepath, or am I not?"
Lou's lips didn't move. But then, they didn't have to.
The message came, unbidden, into Malone's mind.
_Of course you are. That was the whole reason for Andrew's a.s.signing you to this type of case._
"My G.o.d," Malone said softly.
Sir Lewis laid down his pipe in a handy ashtray. "Of course," he said, "you will find it difficult to pick up anyone but Lou, at first. The rapport between you two is really quite strong."
"Very strong indeed," Lou murmured. Malone found himself beginning to blush.
"It will be some time yet," Sir Lewis went on, "before you can really call yourself a telepath, my boy."
"I'll bet it will," Malone said. "Before I can call myself a telepath I'm going to have to get thoroughly used to the idea. And that's going to take a long, long time indeed."
"You only think that," Sir Lewis said. "Actually, you're used to the idea now. That was Andrew's big job."
"His big job?" Malone said. "Now, wait a minute--"
"You don't think I picked you for our first psionics case out of thin air, do you?" Burris said. "Before anything else, you had to be forced to accept the fact that such things as telepaths really existed."
"Oh, they do," Malone said. "They certainly do."
"There's me, for instance," Burris said. "But you had to be convinced.
So I ordered you to go out and find one."
"Like the Bluebird of Happiness," Malone said.
Burris frowned. "What's like the Bluebird of Happiness?" he said.
"You are," Malone said.
"I am not," Burris said indignantly. "Bluebirds eat worms. My G.o.d, Malone."
"But the Bluebird," Malone said doggedly, "was right at home all the time, while everyone searched for it far away. And I had to go far away to find a telepath, when you were the one who ordered me to do it."
"Right," Burris said. "So you went and found Her Majesty. And, when you did find her, she forced acceptance on you simply by being Her Majesty and proving to you, once and for all, that she could read minds."
"Great," Malone said. "Of course, I could have got myself killed taking these lessons--"
"We were watching you," Burris said. "If anything had happened, we'd have been right on the spot."
"In time to bury the body," Malone said. "I think that's very thoughtful of you."
"We would have arrived in time to save you," Burris said. "Don't quibble. You're alive, aren't you?"
"Well," Malone said slowly, "if you're not sure, I don't know how I can convince you."
"There," Burris said triumphantly. "You see?"
Malone sighed wearily. "Okay," he said. "So you sent me out to find a telepath and to prove to me that there were such things. And I did.
And then what happened?"
"You had a year," Burris said, "to get used to the idea of somebody reading your mind."
"Thanks," Malone said. "Of course, I didn't know it was you."
"It was Her Majesty too," Burris said. "Everybody."
"Good old Malone," Malone said. "The human peep-show."
"Now, that's what we mean," Sir Lewis broke in. "Subconsciously, you disliked the idea of leaving your thoughts bare to anyone, even a sweet little old lady. To some extent, you still do. But that will pa.s.s."
"Goody," Malone said.
"The residue is simply not important," Sir Lewis went on. "Your telepathic talents prove that."
"Oh, fine," Malone said. "Here I am reading minds and teleporting and all sorts of things. What will the boys back at Headquarters think now?"
"We'll get to that," Burris said. "But that first case did one more thing for you. Because you didn't like the idea of leaving your mind open, you began to develop a s.h.i.+eld. That allowed you some sort of mental privacy."
"And then," Malone said, "I met Mike Fueyo and his little gang of teleporting juvenile delinquents."
"So that you could develop a psionic ability of your own," Burris said. "That completed your acceptance. But it took a threat to solidify that s.h.i.+eld. That was step three. When you discovered your mind was being tampered with--"