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+Project Gutenberg's Sense from Thought Divide, by Mark Irvin Clifton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Sense from Thought Divide
+
+Author: Mark Irvin Clifton
+
+Illustrator: van Dongen
+
+Release Date: September 5, 2007 [EBook #22513]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENSE FROM THOUGHT DIVIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+SENSE FROM THOUGHT DIVIDE
+
+BY MARK CLIFTON
+
+ _What is a "phony"? Someone who believes he can do X, when
+ he can't, however sincerely he believes it? Or someone who can
+ do X, believes he can't, and believes he is pretending he can?_
+
+Illustrated by van Dongen
+
+
+    "Remembrance and reflection, how allied;
+    What thin partitions sense from thought divide."
+
+                                      Pope
+
+When I opened the door to my secretary's office, I could see her looking
+up from her desk at the Swami's face with an expression of fascinated
+skepticism. The Swami's back was toward me, and on it hung flowing folds
+of a black cloak. His turban was white, except where it had rubbed
+against the back of his neck.
+
+"A tall, dark, and handsome man will soon come into your life," he was
+intoning in that sepulchral voice men habitually use in their dealings
+with the absolute.
+
+Sara's green eyes focused beyond him, on me, and began to twinkle.
+
+"And there he is right now," she commented dryly. "Mr. Kennedy,
+Personnel Director for Computer Research."
+
+The Swami whirled around, his heavy robe following the movement in a
+practiced swirl. His liquid black eyes looked me over shrewdly, and he
+bowed toward me as he vaguely touched his chest, lips and forehead. I
+expected him to murmur, "Effendi," or "Bwana Sahib," or something, but
+he must have felt silence was more impressive.
+
+I acknowledged his greeting by pulling down one corner of my mouth. Then
+I looked at his companion.
+
+The young lieutenant was standing very straight, very stiff, and a flush
+of pink was starting up from his collar and spreading around his
+clenched jaws to leave a semicircle of white in front of his red ears.
+
+"Who are you?" I asked the lieutenant.
+
+"Lieutenant Murphy," he answered shortly, and managed to open his teeth
+a bare quarter of an inch for the words to come out. "Pentagon!" His
+light gray eyes pierced me to see if I were impressed.
+
+I wasn't.
+
+"Division of Materiel and Supply," he continued in staccato, as if he
+were imitating a machine gun.
+
+I waited. It was obvious he wasn't through yet. He hesitated, and I
+could see his Adam's apple travel up above the knot of his tie and back
+down again as he swallowed. The pink flush deepened suddenly into
+brilliant red and spread all over his face.
+
+"Poltergeist Section," he said defiantly.
+
+"_What?_" The exclamation was out before I could catch it.
+
+He tried to glare at me, but his eyes were pleading instead.
+
+"General Sanfordwaithe said you'd understand." He intended to make it
+matter of fact in a sturdy, confident voice, but there was the undertone
+of a wail. It was time I lent a hand before his forces were routed and
+left him shattered in hopeless defeat.
+
+"You're West Point, aren't you?" I asked kindly.
+
+It seemed to remind him of the old shoulder-to-shoulder tradition. He
+straightened still more. I hadn't believed it possible.
+
+"Yes, sir!" He wanted to keep the gratitude out of his voice, but it was
+there. It did not escape my attention that, for the first time, he had
+spoken the habitual term of respect to me.
+
+"Well, what do you have here, Lieutenant Murphy?" I nodded toward the
+Swami who had been wavering between a proud, free stance and that of a
+drooping supplicant. The lieutenant, whose quality had been recognized,
+even by a civilian, was restored unto himself. He was again ready to do
+or die.
+
+"According to my orders, sir," he said formally, "you have requested the
+Pentagon furnish you with one half dozen, six, male-type poltergeists. I
+am delivering the first of them to you, sir."
+
+Sara's mouth, hanging wide open, reminded me to close my own.
+
+So the Pentagon was calling me on my bluff. Well, maybe they did have
+something at that. I'd see.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Float me over that ash tray there on the desk," I said casually to the
+Swami.
+
+He looked at me as if I'd insulted him, and I could anticipate some
+reply to the effect that he was not applying for domestic service. But
+the humble supplicant rather than the proud and fierce hill man won. He
+started to pick up the ash tray from Sara's desk with his hand.
+
+"No, no!" I exclaimed. "I didn't ask you to hand it to me. I want you to
+TK it over to me. What's the matter? Can't you even TK a simple ash
+tray?"
+
+The lieutenant's eyes were getting bigger and bigger.
+
+"Didn't your Poltergeist Section test this guy's aptitudes for
+telekinesis before you brought him from Washington all the way out here
+to Los Angeles?" I snapped at him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The lieutenant's lips thinned to a bloodless line. Apparently I, a
+civilian, was criticizing the judgment of the Army.
+
+"I am certain he must have qualified adequately," he said stiffly, and
+this time left off the "sir."
+
+"Well, I don't know," I answered doubtfully. "If he hasn't even enough
+telekinetic ability to float me an ash tray across the room--"
+
+The Swami recovered himself first. He put the tips of his long fingers
+together in the shape of a sway-backed steeple, and rolled his eyes
+upward.
+
+"I am an instrument of infinite wisdom," he intoned. "Not a parlor
+magician."
+
+"You mean that with all your infinite wisdom you can't do it," I accused
+flatly.
+
+"The vibrations are not favorable--" he rolled the words sonorously.
+
+"All right," I agreed. "We'll go somewhere else, where they're better!"
+
+"The vibrations throughout all this crass, materialistic Western
+world--" he intoned.
+
+"All right," I interrupted, "we'll go to India, then. Sara, call up and
+book tickets to Calcutta on the first possible plane!" Sara's mouth had
+been gradually closing, but it unhinged again.
+
+"Perhaps not even India," the Swami murmured, hastily. "Perhaps Tibet."
+
+"Now you know we can't get admission into Tibet while the Communists
+control it," I argued seriously. "But how about Nepal? That's a fair
+compromise. The Maharajadhiraja's friendly now. I'll settle for Nepal."
+
+The Swami couldn't keep the triumphant glitter out of his eyes. The
+sudden worry that I really would take him to India to see if he could TK
+an ash tray subsided. He had me.
+
+"I'm afraid it would have to be Tibet," he said positively. "Nowhere
+else in all this troubled world are the vibrations--"
+
+"Oh go on back to Flatbush!" I interrupted disgustedly. "You know as
+well as I that you've never been outside New York before in your life.
+Your accent's as phony as the pear-shaped tones of a Midwestern garden
+club president. Can't even TK a simple ash tray!"
+
+I turned to the amazed lieutenant.
+
+"Will you come into my office?" I asked him.
+
+He looked over at the Swami, in doubt.
+
+"He can wait out here," I said. "He won't run away. There isn't any
+subway, and he wouldn't know what to do. Anyway, if he did get lost,
+your Army Intelligence could find him. Give G-2 something to work on.
+Right through this door, lieutenant."
+
+"Yes, sir," he said meekly, and preceded me into my office.
+
+I closed the door behind us and waved him over to the crying chair. He
+folded at the knees and hips, as if he were hinged only there, as if
+there were no hinges at all in the ramrod of his back. He sat up
+straight, on the edge of his chair, ready to spring into instant charge
+of battle. I went around back to my desk and sat down.
+
+"Now, lieutenant," I said soothingly, "tell me all about it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I could have sworn his square chin quivered at the note of sympathy in
+my voice. I wondered, irrelevantly, if the lads at West Point all slept
+with their faces confined in wooden frames to get that characteristically
+rectangular look.
+
+"You knew I was from West Point," he said, and his voice held a note of
+awe. "And you knew, right away, that Swami was a phony from Flatbush."
+
+"Come now," I said with a shrug. "Nothing to get mystical about.
+Patterns. Just patterns. Every environment leaves the stamp of its
+matrix on the individual shaped in it. It's a personnel man's trade to
+recognize the make of a person, just as you would recognize the make of
+a rifle."
+
+"Yes, sir. I see, sir," he answered. But of course he didn't. And there
+wasn't much use to make him try. Most people cling too desperately to
+the ego-saving formula: Man cannot know man.
+
+"Look, lieutenant," I said, with an idea that we'd better get down to
+business. "Have you been checked out on what this is all about?"
+
+"Well, sir," he answered, as if he were answering a question in class,
+"I was cleared for top security, and told that a few months ago you and
+your Dr. Auerbach, here at Computer Research, discovered a way to create
+antigravity. I was told you claimed you had to have a poltergeist in the
+process. You told General Sanfordwaithe that you needed six of them,
+males. That's about all, sir. So the Poltergeist Division discovered the
+Swami, and I was assigned to bring him out here to you."
+
+"Well then, Lieutenant Murphy, you go back to the Pentagon and tell
+General Sanfordwaithe that--" I could see by the look on his face that
+my message would probably not get through verbatim. "Never mind, I'll
+write it," I amended disgustedly. "And you can carry the message."
+Lesser echelons do not relish the task of repeating uncomplimentary
+words verbatim to a superior. Not usually.
+
+I punched Sara's button on my intercom.
+
+"After all the exposure out there to the Swami," I said, "if you're
+still with us on this crass, materialistic plane, will you bring your
+book?"
+
+"My astral self has been hovering over you, guarding you, every minute,"
+Sara answered dreamily.
+
+"Can it take shorthand?" I asked dryly.
+
+"Maybe I'd better come in," she replied.
+
+When she came through the door the lieutenant gave her one appreciative
+glance, then returned to his aloof pedestal of indifference. Obviously
+his pattern was to stand in majestic splendor and allow the girls to
+fawn somewhere down near his shoes. These lads with a glamour boy
+complex almost always gravitate toward some occupation which will
+require them to wear a uniform. Sara catalogued him as quickly as I did,
+and seemed unimpressed. But you never can tell about a woman; the
+smartest of them will fall for the most transparent poses.
+
+"General Sanfordwaithe, dear sir," I began as she sat down at one corner
+of my desk and flipped open her book. "It takes more than a towel
+wrapped around the head and some mutterings about infinity to get
+poltergeist effects. So I am returning your phony Swami to you with my
+compliments--"
+
+"Beg your pardon, sir," the lieutenant interrupted, and there was a
+certain note of suppressed triumph in his voice. "In case you rejected
+our applicant for the poltergeist job you have in mind, I was to hand
+you this." He undid a lovingly polished button of his tunic, slipped his
+hand beneath the cloth and pulled forth a long, sealed envelope.
+
+I took it from him and noted the three sealing-wax imprints on the flap.
+From being carried so close to his heart for so long, the envelope was
+slightly less crisp than when he had received it. I slipped my letter
+opener in under the side flap, and gently extracted the letter without,
+in anyway, disturbing the wax seals which were to have guaranteed its
+privacy. There wasn't any point in my doing it, of course, except to
+demonstrate to the lieutenant that I considered the whole deal as a
+silly piece of cloak and dagger stuff.
+
+After the general formalities, the letter was brief: "Dear Mr. Kennedy:
+We already know the Swami is a phony, but our people have been convinced
+that in spite of this there are some unaccountable effects. We have
+advised your general manager, Mr. Henry Grenoble, that we are in the act
+of carrying out our part of the agreement, namely, to provide you with
+six male-type poltergeists, and to both you and him we are respectfully
+suggesting that you get on with the business of putting the antigravity
+units into immediate production."
+
+I folded the letter and tucked it into one side of my desk pad. I looked
+at Sara.
+
+"Never mind the letter to General Sanfordwaithe," I said. "He has
+successfully cut off my retreat in that direction." I looked over at the
+lieutenant. "All right," I said resignedly, "I'll apologize to the
+Swami, and make a try at using him."
+
+I picked up the letter again and pretended to be reading it. But this
+was just a stall, because I had suddenly been struck by the thought that
+my extreme haste in scoring off the Swami and trying to get rid of him
+was because I didn't want to get involved again with poltergeists. Not
+any, of any nature.
+
+The best way on earth to avoid having to explain psi effects and come to
+terms with them is simply to deny them, convince oneself that they don't
+exist. I sighed deeply. It looked as if I would be denied that little
+human privilege of closing my eyes to the obvious.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Old Stone Face, our general manager, claimed to follow the philosophy of
+building men, not machines. To an extent he did. His favorite phrase
+was, "Don't ask me how. I hired you to tell me." He hired a man to do a
+job, and I will say for him, he left that man alone as long as the job
+got done. But when a man flubbed a job, and kept on flubbing it, then
+Mr. Henry Grenoble stepped in and carried out his own job--general
+managing.
+
+He had given me the assignment of putting antigrav units into
+production. He had given me access to all the money I would need for the
+purpose. He had given me sufficient time, months of it. And, in spite of
+all this cooeperation, he still saw no production lines which spewed out
+antigrav units at some such rate as seventeen and five twelfths per
+second.
+
+Apparently he got his communication from the Pentagon about the time I
+got mine. Apparently it contained some implication that Computer
+Research, under his management, was not pursuing the cause of
+manufacturing antigrav units with diligence and dispatch. Apparently he
+did not like this.
+
+I had no more than apologized to the Swami, and received his martyred
+forgiveness, and arranged for a hotel suite for him and the lieutenant,
+when Old Stone Face sent for me. He began to manage with diligence and
+dispatch.
+
+"Now you look here, Kennedy," he said forcefully, and his use of my last
+name, rather than my first, was a warning, "I've given you every chance.
+When you and Auerbach came up with that antigrav unit last fall, I
+didn't ask a lot of fool questions. I figured you knew what you were
+doing. But the whole winter has passed, and here it is spring, and you
+haven't done anything that I can see. I didn't say anything when you
+told General Sanfordwaithe that you'd have to have poltergeists to carry
+on the work, but I looked it up. First I thought you'd flipped your lid,
+then I thought you were sending us all on a wild goose chase so we'd
+leave you alone, then I didn't know what to think."
+
+I nodded. He wasn't through.
+
+"Now I think you're just pretending the whole thing doesn't exist
+because you don't want to fool with it."
+
+Perhaps he had come to the right decision after all. I'd resolutely
+washed the whole thing out of my mind. But I wasn't going to get away
+with it. I could see it coming.
+
+"For the first time, Kennedy, I'm asking you what happened?" he said
+firmly, but his tone was more telling than asking. So I was going to
+have to discuss frameworks with Old Stone Face, after all.
+
+"Henry," I asked slowly, "have you kept up your reading in theoretical
+physics?"
+
+He blinked at me. I couldn't tell whether it meant yes or no.
+
+"When we went to school, you and I--" I hoped my putting us both in the
+same age group would tend to mollify him a little, "physics was all
+snug, secure, safe, definite. A fact was a fact, and that's all there
+was to it. But there's been some changes made. There's the cooerdinate
+systems of Einstein, where the relationships of facts can change from
+framework to framework. There's the application of multivalued logic to
+physics where a fact becomes not a fact any longer. The astronomers talk
+about the expanding universe--it's a piker compared to man's expanding
+concepts about that universe."
+
+He waited for more. His face seemed to indicate that I was beating
+around the bush.
+
+"That all has a bearing on what happened," I assured him. "You have to
+understand what was behind the facts before you can understand the facts
+themselves. First, we weren't trying to make an antigrav unit at all.
+Dr. Auerbach was playing around with a chemical approach to cybernetics.
+He made up some goop which he thought would store memory impulses, the
+way the brain stores them. He brought a plastic cylinder of it over to
+me, so I could discuss it with you. I laid it on my desk while I went on
+with my personnel management business at hand."
+
+Old Stone Face opened a humidor and took out a cigar. He lit it slowly
+and deliberately and looked at me sharply as he blew out the first puff
+of smoke.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The nursery over in the plant had been having trouble with a little
+girl, daughter of one of our production women. She'd been throwing
+things, setting things on fire. The teachers didn't know how she did it,
+she just did it. They sent her to me. I asked her about it. She threw a
+tantrum, and when it was all over, Auerbach's plastic cylinder of goop
+was trying to fall upward, through the ceiling. That's what happened," I
+said.
+
+He looked at his cigar, and looked at me. He waited for me to tie the
+facts to the theory. I hesitated, and then tried to reassure myself.
+After all, we were in the business of manufacturing computers. The
+general manager ought to be able to understand something beyond primary
+arithmetic.
+
+"Jennie Malasek was a peculiar child with a peculiar background," I went
+on. "Her mother was from the old country, one of the Slav races. There's
+the inheritance of a lot of peculiar notions. Maybe she had passed them
+on to her daughter. She kept Jennie locked up in their room. The kid
+never got out with other children. Children, kept alone, never seeing
+anybody, get peculiar notions all by themselves. Who, knows what kind of
+a cooerdinate system she built up, or how it worked? Her mother would
+come home at night and go about her tasks talking aloud, half to the
+daughter, half to herself. 'I really burned that foreman up, today,'
+she'd say. Or, 'Oh, boy, was he fired in a hurry!' Or, 'She got herself
+thrown out of the place,' things like that."
+
+"So what does that mean, Ralph?" he asked. His switch to my first name
+indicated he was trying to work with me instead of pushing me.
+
+"To a child who never knew anything else," I answered, "one who had
+never learned to distinguish reality from unreality--as we would define
+it from our agreed framework--a special cooerdinate system might be built
+up where 'Everybody was up in the air at work, today,' might be taken
+literally. Under the old systems of physics that couldn't happen, of
+course--it says in the textbooks--but since it has been happening all
+through history, in thousands of instances, in the new systems of
+multivalued physics we recognize it. Under the old system, we already
+had all the major answers, we thought. Now that we've got our smug
+certainties knocked out of us, we're just fumbling along, trying to get
+some of the answers we thought we had.
+
+"We couldn't make that cylinder activate others. We tried. We're still
+trying. In ordinary cybernetics you can have one machine punch a tape
+and it can be fed into another machine, but that means you first have to
+know how to code and decode a tape mechanically. We don't know how to
+code or decode a psi effect. We know the Auerbach cylinder will store a
+psi impulse, but we don't know how. So we have to keep working with psi
+gifted people, at least until we've established some of the basic laws
+governing psi."
+
+I couldn't tell by Henry's face whether I was with him or away from him.
+He told me he wanted to think about it, and made a little motion with
+his hand that I should leave the room.
+
+I walked through the suite of executive offices and down a sound
+rebuffing hallway. The throbbing clatter of manufacture of metallic
+parts made a welcome sound as I went through the far doorway into the
+factory. I saw a blueprint spread on a foreman's desk as I walked past.
+Good old blueprint. So many millimeters from here to there, made of such
+and such an alloy, a hole punched here with an allowance of
+five-ten-thousandths plus or minus tolerance. Snug, secure, safe. I
+wondered if psi could ever be blue-printed. Or suppose you put a hole
+here, but when you looked away and then looked back it had moved, or
+wasn't there at all?
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Quickly, I got myself into a conversation with a supervisor about the
+rising rate of employee turnover in his department. That was something
+also snug, secure, safe. All you had to do was figure out human beings.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I spent the rest of the morning on such pursuits, working with things I
+understood.
+
+On his first rounds of the afternoon, the interoffice messenger brought
+me a memorandum from the general manager's office. I opened it with some
+misgivings. I was not particularly reassured.
+
+Mr. Grenoble felt he should work with me more closely on the antigrav
+project. He understood, from his researches, that the most positive psi
+effects were experienced during a seance with a medium. Would I kindly
+arrange for the Swami to hold a seance that evening, after office hours,
+so that he might analyze the man's methods and procedures to see how
+they could fit smoothly into Company Operation. This was not to be
+construed as interference in the workings of my department but in the
+interests of pursuing the entire matter with diligence and dispatch--
+
+The seance was to be held in my office.
+
+I had had many peculiar conferences in this room--from union leaders
+stripping off their coats, throwing them on the floor and stomping on
+them; to uplifters who wanted to ban cosmetics on our women employees so
+the male employees would not be tempted to think Questionable Thoughts.
+I could not recall ever having held a seance before.
+
+My desk had been moved out of the way, over into one corner of the large
+room. A round table was brought over from the salesmen's report writing
+room (used there more for surreptitious poker playing than for writing
+reports) and placed in the middle of my office--on the grounds that it
+had no sharp corners to gouge people in their middles if it got to
+cavorting about recklessly. In an industrial plant one always has to
+consider the matter of safety rules and accident insurance rates.
+
+In the middle of the table there rested, with dark fluid gleaming
+through clear plastic cases, six fresh cylinders which Auerbach had
+prepared in his laboratory over in the plant.
+
+Auerbach had shown considerable unwillingness to attend the seance; he
+pleaded being extra busy with experiments just now, but I gave him that
+look which told him I knew he had just been stalling around the last few
+months, the same as I had.
+
+If the psi effect had never come out in the first place, there wouldn't
+have been any mental conflict. He could have gone on with his processes
+of refining, simplifying and increasing the efficiency ratings of his
+goop. But this unexpected side effect, the cylinders learning and
+demonstrating something he considered basically untrue, had tied his
+hands with a hopeless sort of frustration. He would have settled gladly
+for a chemical compound which could have added two and two upon request;
+but when that compound can learn and demonstrate that there's no such
+thing as gravity, teaching it simple arithmetic is like ashes in the
+mouth.
+
+I said as much to him. I stood there in his laboratory, leaned up
+against a work bench, and risked burning an acid hole in the sleeve of
+my jacket just to put over an air of unconcern. He was perched on the
+edge of an opposite work bench, swinging his feet, and hiding the
+expression in his eyes behind the window's reflection upon his polished
+glasses. I said even more.
+
+"You know," I said reflectively, "I'm completely unable to understand
+the attitude of supposedly unbiased men of science. Now you take all
+that mass of data about psi effects, the odd and unexplainable
+happenings, the premonitions, the specific predictions, the accurate
+descriptions of far away simultaneously happening events. You take that
+whole mountainous mass of data, evidence, phenomena--"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A slight turn of his head gave me a glimpse of his eyes behind the
+glasses. He looked as if he wished I'd change the subject. In his dry,
+undemonstrative way, I think he liked me. Or at least he liked me when I
+wasn't trying to make him think about things outside his safe and secure
+little framework. But I didn't give in. If men of science are not going
+to take up the evidence and work it over, then where are we? And are
+they men of science?
+
+"Before Rhine came along, and brought all this down to the level of
+laboratory experimentation," I pursued, "how were those things to be
+explained? Say a fellow had some unusual powers, things that happened
+around him, things he knew without any explanation for knowing them.
+I'll tell you. There were two courses open to him. He could express it
+in the semantics of spiritism, or he could admit to witchcraft and
+sorcery. Take your pick; those were the only two systems of semantics
+which had been built up through the ages.
+
+"We've got a third one now--parapsychology. If I had asked you to attend
+an experiment in parapsychology, you'd have agreed at once. But when I
+ask you to attend a seance, you balk! Man, what difference does it make
+what we call it? Isn't it up to us to investigate the evidence wherever
+we find it? No matter what kind of semantic debris it's hiding in?"
+
+Auerbach shoved himself down off the bench, and pulled out a beat-up
+package of cigarettes.
+
+"All right, Kennedy," he had said resignedly, "I'll attend your seance."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The other invited guests were Sara, Lieutenant Murphy, Old Stone Face,
+myself, and, of course, the Swami. This was probably not typical of the
+Swami's usual audience composition.
+
+Six chairs were placed at even intervals around the table. I had found
+soft white lights overhead to be most suitable for my occasional night
+work, but the Swami insisted that a blue light, a dim one, was most
+suitable for his night work.
+
+I made no objection to that condition. One of the elementary basics of
+science is that laboratory conditions may be varied to meet the
+necessities of the experiment. If a red-lighted darkness is necessary to
+an operator's successful development of photographic film, then I could
+hardly object to a blue-lighted darkness for the development of the
+Swami's effects.
+
+Neither could I object to the Swami's insistence that he sit with his
+back to the true North. When he came into the room, accompanied by
+Lieutenant Murphy, his thoughts seemed turned in upon himself, or wafted
+somewhere out of this world. He stopped in mid-stride, struck an
+attitude of listening, or feeling, perhaps, and slowly shifted his body
+back and forth.
+
+"Ah," he said at last, in a tone of satisfaction, "there is the North!"
+
+It was, but this was not particularly remarkable. There is no confusing
+maze of hallways leading to the Personnel Department from the outside.
+Applicants would be unable to find us if there were. If he had got his
+bearings out on the street, he could have managed to keep them.
+
+He picked up the nearest chair with his own hands and shifted it so that
+it would be in tune with the magnetic lines of Earth. I couldn't object.
+The Chinese had insisted upon such placement of household articles,
+particularly their beds, long before the Earth's magnetism had been
+discovered by science. The birds had had their direction-finders attuned
+to it, long before there was man.
+
+Instead of objecting, the lieutenant and I meekly picked up the table
+and shifted it to the new position. Sara and Auerbach came in as we were
+setting the table down. Auerbach gave one quick look at the Swami in his
+black cloak and nearly white turban, and then looked away.
+
+"Remember semantics," I murmured to him, as I pulled out Sara's chair
+for her. I seated her to the left of the Swami. I seated Auerbach to the
+right of him. If the lieutenant was, by chance, in cahoots with the
+Swami, I would foil them to the extent of not letting them sit side by
+side at least. I sat down at the opposite side of the table from the
+Swami. The lieutenant sat down between me and Sara.
+
+The general manager came through the door at that instant, and took
+charge immediately.
+
+"All right now," Old Stone Face said crisply, in his low, rumbling
+voice, "no fiddle-faddling around. Let's get down to business."
+
+The Swami closed his eyes.
+
+"Please be seated," he intoned to Old Stone Face. "And now, let us all
+join hands in an unbroken circle."
+
+Henry shot him a beetle-browed look as he sat down between Auerbach and
+me, but at least he was cooeperative to the extent that he placed both
+his hands on top of the table. If Auerbach and I reached for them, we
+would be permitted to grasp them.
+
+I leaned back and snapped off the overhead light to darken the room in
+an eerie, blue glow.
+
+We sat there, holding hands, for a full ten minutes. Nothing happened.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was not difficult to estimate the pattern of Henry's mind. Six
+persons, ten minutes, equals one man-hour. One man-hour of idle time to
+be charged into the cost figure of the antigrav unit. He was staring
+fixedly at the cylinders which lay in random positions in the center of
+the table, as if to assess their progress at this processing point. He
+apparently began to grow dissatisfied with the efficiency rating of the
+manufacturing process at this point. He stirred restlessly in his chair.
+
+The Swami seemed to sense the impatience, or it might have been
+coincidence.
+
+"There is some difficulty," he gasped in a strangulated, high voice. "My
+guides refuse to come through."
+
+"Harrumph!" exclaimed Old Stone Face. It left no doubt about what _he_
+would do if _his_ guides did not obey orders on the double.
+
+"Someone in this circle is not a True Believer!" the Swami accused in an
+incredulous voice.
+
+In the dim blue light I was able to catch a glimpse of Sara's face. She
+was on the verge of breaking apart. I managed to catch her eye and flash
+her a stern warning. Later she told me she had interpreted my expression
+as stark fear, but it served the same purpose. She smothered her
+laughter in a most unladylike sound somewhere between a snort and a
+squawk.
+
+The Swami seemed to become aware that somehow he was not holding his
+audience spellbound.
+
+"Wait!" he commanded urgently; then he announced in awe-stricken tones,
+"I feel a presence!"
+
+There was a tentative, half-hearted rattle of some castanets--which
+could have been managed by the Swami wiggling one knee, if he happened
+to have them concealed there. This was followed by the thin squawk of a
+bugle--which could have been accomplished by sitting over toward one
+side and squashing the air out of a rubber bulb attached to a ten-cent
+party horn taped to his thigh.
+
+Then there was nothing. Apparently his guides had made a tentative
+appearance and were, understandably, completely intimidated by Old Stone
+Face. We sat for another five minutes.
+
+"Harrumph!" Henry cleared his throat again, this time louder and more
+commanding.
+
+"That is all," the Swami said in a faint, exhausted voice. "I have
+returned to you on your material plane."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The handholding broke up in the way bits of metal, suddenly charged
+positive and negative, would fly apart. I leaned back again and snapped
+on the white lights. We all sat there a few seconds, blinking in what
+seemed a sudden glare.
+
+The Swami sat with his chin dropped down to his chest. Then he raised
+stricken, liquid eyes.
+
+"Oh, now I remember where I am," he said. "What happened? I never know."
+
+Old Stone Face threw him a look of withering scorn. He picked up one of
+the cylinders and hefted it in the palm of his hand. It did not fly
+upward to bang against the ceiling. It weighed about what it ought to
+weigh. He tossed the cylinder contemptuously, back into the pile,
+scattering them over the table. He pushed back his chair, got to his
+feet, and stalked out of the room without looking at any of us.
+
+The Swami made a determined effort to recapture the spotlight.
+
+"I'm afraid I must have help to walk to the car," he whispered. "I am
+completely exhausted. Ah, this work takes so much out of me. Why do I go
+on with it? Why? Why? Why?"
+
+He drooped in his chair, then made a valiantly brave effort to rise
+under his own power when he felt the lieutenant's hands lifting him up.
+He was leaning heavily on the lieutenant as they went out the door.
+
+Sara looked at me dubiously.
+
+"Will there be anything else?" she asked. Her tone suggested that since
+nothing had been accomplished, perhaps we should get some work out
+before she left.
+
+"No, Sara," I answered. "Good night. See you in the morning."
+
+She nodded and went out the door.
+
+Apparently none of them had seen what I saw. I wondered if Auerbach had.
+He was a trained observer. He was standing beside the table looking down
+at the cylinders. He reached over and poked at one of them with his
+forefinger. He was pushing it back and forth. It gave him no resistance
+beyond normal inertia. He pushed it a little farther out of parallel
+with true North. It did not try to swing back.
+
+So he had seen it. When I'd laid the cylinders down on the table they
+were in random positions. During the seance there had been no jarring of
+the table, not even so much as a rap or quiver which could have been
+caused by the Swami's lifted knee. When we'd shifted the table, after
+the Swami had changed his chair, the cylinders hadn't been disturbed.
+When Old Stone Face had been staring at them during the seance--seance?,
+hah!--they were laying in inert, random positions.
+
+But when the lights came back on, and just before Henry had picked one
+up and tossed it back to scatter them, every cylinder had been laying in
+orderly parallel--and with one end pointing to true North!
+
+I stood there beside Auerbach, and we both poked at the cylinders some
+more. They gave us no resistance, nor showed that they had any ideas
+about it one way or the other.
+
+"It's like so many things," I said morosely. "If you do just happen to
+notice anything out of the ordinary at all, it doesn't seem to mean
+anything."
+
+"Maybe that's because you're judging it outside of its own framework,"
+Auerbach answered. I couldn't tell whether he was being sarcastic or
+speculative. "What I don't understand," he went on, "is that once the
+cylinders having been activated by whatever force there was in
+action--all right, call it psi--well, why didn't they retain it, the way
+the other cylinders retained the antigrav force?"
+
+I thought for a moment. Something about the conditional setup seemed to
+give me an idea.
+
+"You take a photographic plate," I reasoned. "Give it a weak exposure to
+light, then give it a strong blast of overexposure. The first exposure
+is going to be blanked out by the second. Old Stone Face was feeling
+pretty strongly toward the whole matter."
+
+Auerbach looked at me, unbelieving.
+
+"There isn't any rule about who can have psi talent," I argued. "I'm
+just wondering if I shouldn't wire General Sanfordwaithe and tell him
+to cut our order for poltergeists down to five."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I spent a glum, restless night. I knew, with certainty, that Old Stone
+Face was going to give me trouble. I didn't need any psi talent for
+that, it was an inevitable part of his pattern. He had made up his mind
+to take charge of this antigrav operation, and he wouldn't let one bogus
+seance stop him more than momentarily.
+
+If it weren't so close to direct interference with my department, I'd
+have been delighted to sit on the side lines and watch him try to
+command psi effects to happen. That would be like commanding some random
+copper wire and metallic cores to start generating electricity.
+
+For once I could have overlooked the interference with my department if
+I didn't know, from past experience, that I'd be blamed for the
+consequent failure. That's a cute little trick of top executives,
+generally. They get into something they don't understand, really louse
+it up, then, because it is your department, you are the one who failed.
+Ordinarily I liked my job, but if this sort of thing went too far--
+
+But more than saving my job, I had the feeling that if I were allowed to
+go along, carefully and experimentally, I just might discover a few of
+the laws about psi. There was the tantalizing feeling that I was on the
+verge of knowing at least something.
+
+The Pentagon people had been right. The Swami was an obvious phony of
+the baldest fakery, yet he had something. He had something, but how was
+I to get hold of it? Just what kind of turns with what around what did
+you make to generate a psi force? It took two thousand years for man to
+move from the concept that amber was a stone with a soul to the concept
+of static electricity. Was there any chance I could find some shortcuts
+in reducing the laws governing psi? The one bright spot of my morning
+was that Auerbach hadn't denied seeing the evidence of the cylinders
+pointing North.
+
+It turned out to be the only bright spot. I had no more than got to my
+office and sorted out the routine urgencies which had to be handled
+immediately from those which could be put off a little longer, when Sara
+announced the lieutenant and the Swami. So I put everything else off,
+and told her to send them right in.
+
+The Swami was in an incoherent rage. The lieutenant was contracting his
+eyebrows in a scowl and clenching his fists in frustration. In a voice,
+soaring into the falsetto, the Swami demanded that he be sent back to
+Brooklyn where he was appreciated. The lieutenant had orders to stay
+with the Swami, but he didn't have any orders about returning either to
+Brooklyn or the Pentagon. I managed, at last, to get the lieutenant
+seated in a straight chair, but the Swami couldn't stay still long
+enough. He stalked up and down the room, swirling his slightly odorous
+black cloak on the turns. Gradually the story came out.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Old Stone Face, a strong advocate of Do It Now, hadn't wasted any time.
+From his home he had called the Swami at his hotel and commanded him to
+report to the general manager's office at once. Apparently they both got
+there about the same time, and Henry had waded right in.
+
+Apparently Henry, too, had spent a restless night. He accused the Swami
+of inefficiency, bungling, fraud, deliberate insubordination, and a few
+other assorted faults for having made a fool out of us all at the
+seance. He'd as much as commanded the Swami to cut out all this
+shilly-shallying and get down to the business of activating antigrav
+cylinders, or else. He hadn't been specific about what the "or else"
+would entail.
+
+It was up to me to pick up the pieces, if I could.
+
+"Now I'm sure he really didn't mean--" I began to pour oil on the
+troubled waters. "With your deep insight, Swami--The fate of great
+martyrs throughout the ages--" Gradually the ego-building phrases calmed
+him down. He grew willing to listen, if for no more than the
+anticipation of hearing more of them.
+
+He settled down into the crying chair at last, and I could see his
+valence shifting from outraged anger to a vast and noble forgiveness.
+This much was not difficult. To get him to cooeperate, consciously and
+enthusiastically, well that might not be so easy.
+
+Each trade has its own special techniques. The analytical chemist has a
+series of routines he tries when he wishes to reduce an unknown compound
+to its constituents. To the chemically uneducated, this may appear to be
+a fumbling, hit or miss, kind of procedure. The personnel man, too, has
+his series of techniques. It may appear to be no more than random,
+pointless conversation.
+
+I first tried the routine process of reasoning. I didn't expect it to
+work; it seldom does, but it can't be eliminated until it has been
+tested.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"You must understand," I said slowly, soothingly, "that our intentions
+are constructive. We are simply trying to apply the scientific method to
+something which has, heretofore, been wrapped in mysticism."
+
+The shocked freezing of his facial muscles told me that reasoning had
+missed its mark. It told me more.
+
+"Science understands nothing, nothing at all!" he snapped, "Science
+tries to reduce everything to test tubes and formulae; but I am the
+instrument of a mystery which man can never know."
+
+"Well, now," I said reasonably. "Let us not be inconsistent. You say
+this is something man was not meant to know; yet you, yourself, have
+devoted your life to gaining a greater comprehension of it."
+
+"I seek only to rise above my material self so that I might place
+myself in harmony with the flowing symphony of Absolute Truth," he
+lectured me sonorously. Oh well, his enrapturement with such terminology
+differed little from some of the sciences which tended to grow equally
+esoteric. And maybe it meant something. Who was I to say that mine ears
+alone heard all the music being played?
+
+It did mean one thing very specifically. There are two basic approaches
+to the meaning of life and the universe about us. Man can know: That is
+the approach of science, its whole meaning. There are mysteries which
+man was not meant to know: That is the other approach. There is no
+reconciling of the two on a reasoning basis. I represented the former. I
+wasn't sure the Swami was a true representative of the latter, but at
+least he had picked up the valence and the phrases.
+
+I made a mental note that reasoning was an unworkable technique with
+this compound. Henry, a past master at it, had already tried threats and
+abuse. That hadn't worked. I next tried one of the oldest forms in the
+teaching of man, a parable.
+
+I told him of my old Aunt Dimity, who was passionately fond of Rummy,
+but considered all other card games sinful.
+
+"Ah, how well she proves my point," the Swami countered. "There is an
+inner voice, a wisdom greater than the mortal mind to guide us--"
+
+"Well now," I asked reasonably, "why would the inner voice say that
+Rummy was O.K., but Casino wasn't?" But it was obvious he liked the
+point he had made better than he had liked the one I failed to make.
+
+So I tried the next technique. I tried an appeal for instruction. Often
+an opponent will come over to your side if you just confess, honestly,
+that he is a better man than you are, and you need his help. What was
+the road I must take to achieve the same understanding he had achieved?
+His eyes glittered at that, and a mercenary expression underlay the tone
+of his answer.
+
+"First there is fasting, and breathing, and contemplating self," he
+murmured mendaciously. "I would be unable to aid you until you gave me
+full ascendancy over you, so that I might guide your every thought--"
+
+I decided to try inspiration. In breaking down recalcitrant materials in
+the laboratory of my personnel office, sometimes one method worked,
+sometimes another.
+
+"Do you realize, Swami," I asked, "that the one great drawback
+throughout the ages to a full acceptance of psi is the lack of permanent
+evidence? It has always been evanescent, perishable. It always rests
+solely upon the word of witnesses. But if I could show you a film print,
+then you could not doubt the existence of photography, could you?"
+
+I opened my lower desk drawer and pulled out a couple of the Auerbach
+cylinders which we had used the night before. I laid them on top of the
+desk.
+
+"These cylinders," I said, "act like the photographic film. They will
+record, in permanent form, the psi effects you command. At last, for all
+mankind the doubt will be stilled; man will at once know the truth; and
+you will take your place among the immortals."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+I thought it was pretty good, and that, with his overweening ego, it
+would surely do the trick. But the Swami was staring at the cylinders
+first in fascination, then fear, then in horror. He jumped to his feet,
+without bothering to swirl his robe majestically, rushed over to the
+door, fumbled with the knob as if he were in a burning room, managed to
+get the door open, and rushed outside. The lieutenant gave me a puzzled
+look, and went after him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I drew a deep breath, and exhaled it audibly. My testing procedures
+hadn't produced the results I'd expected, but the last one had revealed
+something else.
+
+The Swami believed himself to be a fraud!
+
+As long as he could razzle-dazzle with sonorous phrases, and depend upon
+credulous old women to turn them into accurate predictions of things to
+come, he was safe enough. But faced with something which would prove
+definitely--
+
+Well, what would he do now?
+
+And then I noticed that both cylinders were pointing toward the door. I
+watched them, at first, not quite sure; then I grew convinced by the
+change in their perspective with the angles of the desk. Almost as
+slowly as the minute hand of a watch, they were creeping across the desk
+toward the door. They, too, were trying to escape from the room.
+
+I nudged them with my fingers. They hustled along a little faster, as if
+appreciative of the help, even coming from me. I saw they were moving
+faster, as if they were learning as they tried it. I turned one of them
+around. Slowly it turned back and headed for the door again. I lifted
+one of them to the floor. It had no tendency to float, but it kept
+heading for the door. The other one fell off the desk while I was
+fooling with the first one. The jar didn't seem to bother it any. It,
+too, began to creep across the rug toward the door.
+
+I opened the door for them. Sara looked up. She saw the two cylinders
+come into view, moving under their own power.
+
+"Here we go again," she said, resignedly.
+
+The two cylinders pushed themselves over the door sill, got clear
+outside my office. Then they went inert. Both Sara and I tried nudging
+them, poking them. They just lay there; mission accomplished. I carried
+them back inside my office and lay them on the floor. Immediately both
+of them began to head for the door again.
+
+"Simple," Sara said dryly, "they just can't stand to be in the same room
+with you, that's all."
+
+"You're not just whistling, gal," I answered. "That's the whole point."
+
+"Have I said something clever?" she asked seriously.
+
+I took the cylinders back into my office and put them in a desk drawer.
+I watched the desk for a while, but it didn't change position.
+Apparently it was too heavy for the weak force activating the cylinders.
+
+I picked up the phone and called Old Stone Face. I told him about the
+cylinders.
+
+"There!" he exclaimed with satisfaction. "I knew all that fellow needed
+was a good old-fashioned talking to. Some day, my boy, you'll realize
+that you still have a lot to learn about handling men."
+
+"Yes, sir," I answered.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sara asked me if I were ready to start seeing people, and I told her I
+wasn't, that I had some thinking to do. She quipped something about
+making the world wait, meaning that I should be occupying my time with
+personnel managing, and closed the door.
+
+At that, Old Stone Face had a point. If he hadn't got in and riled
+things up, maybe the Swami would not have been emotionally upset enough
+to generate the psi force which had activated these new cylinders.
+
+What was I saying? That psi was linked with emotional upheaval? Well,
+maybe. Not necessarily, but Rhine had proved that strength of desire had
+an effect upon the frequency index of telekinesis. Was there anything at
+all we knew about psi, so that we could start cataloguing, sketching in
+the beginnings of a pattern? Yes, of course there was.
+
+First, it existed. No one could dismiss the mountainous mass of evidence
+unless he just refused to think about the subject.
+
+Second, we could, in time, know what it was and how it worked. You'd
+have to give up the entire basis of scientific attitude if you didn't
+admit that.
+
+Third, it acted like a sense, rather than as something dependent upon
+the intellectual process of thought. You could, for example--I argued to
+my imaginary listener--command your nose to smell a rose, and by
+autosuggestion you might think you were succeeding; that is, until you
+really did smell a real rose, then you'd know that you'd failed to
+create it through a thought pattern. The sense would have to be
+separated from the process of thinking about the sense.
+
+So what was psi? But, at this point, did it matter much? Wasn't the main
+issue one of learning how to produce it, use it? How long did we work
+with electricity and get a lot of benefits from it before we formed some
+theories about what it was? And, for that matter, did we know what it
+was, even yet? "A flow of electrons" was a pretty meaningless phrase,
+when you stopped to think about it. I could say psi was a flow of
+positrons, and it would mean as much.
+
+I reached over and picked up a cigarette. I started fumbling around in
+the center drawer of my desk for a matchbook. I didn't find any. Without
+thinking, I opened the drawer containing the two cylinders. They were
+pressing up against the side of the desk drawer, still trying to get out
+of the room. Single purposed little beasts, weren't they?
+
+I closed the drawer, and noticed that I was crushing out my cigarette in
+the ash tray, just as if I'd smoked it. It was the first overt
+indication I'd had that maybe my nerves weren't all they should be this
+morning.
+
+The sight of the cylinders brought up the fourth point. Experimental
+psychology was filled with examples of the known senses being unable to
+make correct evaluations when confronted with a totally new object,
+color, scent, taste, sound, impression. It was necessary to have a point
+of orientation before the new could be fitted into the old. What we
+really lacked in psi was the ability to orient its phenomena. The
+various psi gifted individuals tried to do this. If they believed in
+guides from beyond the veil, that's the way they expressed themselves.
+On the other hand, a Rhine card caller might not be able to give you a
+message from your dear departed Aunt Minnie if his life depended upon
+it--yet it could easily be the same force working in both instances.
+Consequently, a medium, such as the Swami, whose basic belief was There
+Are Mysteries, would be unable to function in a framework where the
+obvious intent was to unveil those mysteries!
+
+That brought up a couple more points. I felt pretty sure of them. I
+felt as if I were really getting somewhere. And I had a situation which
+was ideal for proving my points.
+
+I flipped the intercom key, and spoke to Sara.
+
+"Will you arrange with her foreman for Annie Malasek to come to my
+office right now?" I asked. Sara is flippant when things are going along
+all right, but she knows when to buckle down and do what she's asked.
+She gave me no personal reactions to this request.
+
+Yes, Annie Malasek would be a good one. If anybody in the plant believed
+There Are Mysteries, it would be Annie. Further, she was exaggeratedly
+loyal to me. She believed I was responsible for turning her little
+Jennie, the little girl who'd started all this poltergeist trouble, into
+a Good Little Girl. In this instance, I had no qualms about taking
+advantage of that loyalty.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+While I waited for her I called the lieutenant at his hotel. He was in.
+Yes, the Swami was also in. They'd just returned. Yes, the Swami was
+ranting and raving about leaving Los Angeles at once. He had said he
+absolutely would have nothing more to do with us here at Computer
+Research. I told Lieutenant Murphy to scare him with tales of the
+secret, underground working of Army Intelligence, to quiet him down. And
+I scared the lieutenant a little by pointing out that holding a civilian
+against his will without the proper writ was tantamount to kidnapping.
+So if the Army didn't want trouble with the Civil Courts, all brought
+about because the lieutenant didn't know how to handle his man--
+
+The lieutenant became immediately anxious to cooeperate with me. So then
+I soothed him. I told him that, naturally, the Swami was unhappy. He was
+used to Swami-ing, and out here he had been stifled, frustrated. What he
+needed was some credulous women to catch their breath at his
+awe-inspiring insight and gaze with fearful rapture into his eyes. The
+lieutenant didn't know where he could find any women like that. I told
+him, dryly, that I would furnish some.
+
+Annie was more than cooeperative. Sure, the whole plant was buzzing about
+that foreign-looking Swami who had been seen coming in and out of my
+office. Sure, a lot of the Girls believed in seances.
+
+"Why? Don't you, Mr. Kennedy?" she asked curiously.
+
+I said I wasn't sure, and she clucked her tongue in sympathy. It must be
+terrible not to be sure, so ... well, it must be just terrible. And I
+was such a kind man, too. I didn't quite get the connection, until I
+remembered there are some patterns which believe a human being would be
+incapable of being kind unless through hope of reward or fear of
+punishment.
+
+But when I asked her to go to the hotel and persuade the Swami to give
+her a reading, she was reluctant. I thought my plan was going to be
+frustrated, but it turned out that her reluctance was only because she
+did not have a thing to wear, going into a high-toned place like that.
+
+Sara wasn't the right size, but one of the older girls in the outer
+office would lend Annie some clothes if I would let her go see the
+Swami, too. It developed that her own teacher was a guest of Los Angeles
+County for a while, purely on a trumped-up charge, you understand, Mr.
+Kennedy. Not that she was a cop hater or anything like that. She was
+perfectly aware of what a fine and splendid job those noble boys in blue
+did for us all, but--
+
+In my own office! Well, you never knew.
+
+Yet, what was the difference between her and me? We were both trying to
+get hold of and benefit by psi effects, weren't we? So I didn't comment.
+Instead, I found myself much farther ahead with my tentative plans than
+I'd anticipated at this stage.
+
+Yes, my interviewer's teacher had quite a large following, and now they
+were all at loose ends. If the Swami were willing, she could provide a
+large and ready-made audience for him. She would be glad to talk to him
+about it.
+
+Annie hurriedly said that she would be glad to talk to him about it,
+too; that she could get up a large audience, too. So, even before it got
+started, I had my rival factions at work. I egged them both on, and
+promised that I'd get Army Intelligence to work with the local boys in
+blue to hold off making any raids.
+
+Annie told me again what a kind man I was. My interviewer spoke up
+quickly and said how glad she was to find an opportunity for expressing
+how grateful she was for the privilege of working right in the same
+department with such an understanding, really intellectually developed
+adult. She eyed Annie sidelong, as if to gauge the effects of her
+attempts to set me up on a pedestal, out of Annie's reach.
+
+I hoped I wouldn't start believing either one of them. I hoped I wasn't
+as inaccurate in my estimates of people as was my interviewer. I
+wondered if she were really qualified for the job she held. Then I
+realized this was a contest between two women and I, a mere male, was
+simply being used as the pawn. Well, that worked both ways. In a fair
+bargain both sides receive satisfaction. I felt a little easier about my
+tactical maneuvers.
+
+But the development of rivalry between factions of the audience gave me
+an additional idea. Perhaps that's what the Swami really needed, a
+little rivalry. Perhaps he was being a little too hard to crack because
+he knew he was the only egg in the basket.
+
+I called Old Stone Face and told him what I planned. He responded that
+it was up to me. He'd stepped in and got things under way for me, got
+things going, now it was my job to keep them going. It looked as if he
+were edging out from under--or maybe he really believed that.
+
+Before I settled into the day's regular routine, I wired General
+Sanfordwaithe, and told him that if he had any more prospects ready
+would he please ship me one at once, via air mail, special delivery.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The recital hall, hired for the Swami's Los Angeles debut, was large
+enough to accommodate all the family friends and relatives of any little
+Maribel who, having mastered "Daffodils In May," for four fingers, was
+being given to the World. It had the usual small stage equipped with
+pull-back curtains to give a dramatic flourish, or to shut off from view
+the effects of any sudden nervous catastrophe brought about by stage
+fright.
+
+I got there, purposely a little late, in hopes the house lights would
+already be dimmed and everything in progress; but about a hundred and
+fifty people were milling around outside on the walk and in the
+corridors. Both factions had really been busy.
+
+Most of them were women, but, to my intense relief, there were a few
+men. Some of these were only husbands, but a few of the men wore a look
+which said they'd been far away for a long time. Somehow I got the
+impression that instead of looking into a crystal ball, they would be
+more inclined to look out of one.
+
+It was a little disconcerting to realize that no one noticed me, or
+seemed to think I was any different from anybody else. I supposed I
+should be thankful that I wasn't attracting any attention. I saw my
+interviewer amid a group of Older Girls. She winked at me roguishly, and
+patted her heavy handbag significantly. As per instructions, she was
+carrying a couple of the Auerbach cylinders.
+
+I found myself staring in perplexity for a full minute at another woman,
+before I realized it was Annie. I had never seen her before, except
+dressed in factory blue jeans, man's blue shirt, and a bandanna wrapped
+around her head. Her companion, probably another of the factory
+assemblers, nudged her and pointed, not too subtly, in my direction.
+Annie saw me then, and lit up with a big smile. She started toward me,
+hesitated when I frowned and shook my head, flushed with the thought
+that I didn't want to speak to her in public; then got a flash of better
+sense than that. She, too, gave me a conspiratorial wink and patted her
+handbag.
+
+My confederates were doing nicely.
+
+Almost immediately thereafter a horse-faced, mustached old gal started
+rounding people up in a honey sweet, pear shaped voice; and herded them
+into the auditorium. I chose one of the wooden folding chairs in the
+back row.
+
+A heavy jowled old gal came out in front of the closed curtains and gave
+a little introductory talk about how lucky we all were that the Swami
+had consented to visit with us. There was the usual warning to anyone
+who was not of the esoteric that we must not expect too much, that
+sometimes nothing at all happened, that true believers did not attend
+just to see effects. She reminded us kittenishly that the guides were
+capricious, and that we must all help by merging ourselves in the great
+flowing currents of absolute infinity.
+
+She finally faltered, realized she was probably saying all the things
+the Swami would want to say--in the manner of people who introduce
+speakers everywhere--and with a girlish little flourish she waved at
+someone off stage.
+
+The house lights dimmed. The curtains swirled up and back.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Swami was doing all right for himself. He was seated behind a small
+table in the center of the stage. A pale violet light diffused through a
+huge crystal ball on the table, and threw his dark features into sharp
+relief. It gave an astonishingly remote and inscrutable wisdom to his
+features. In the pale light, and at this distance, his turban looked
+quite clean.
+
+He began to speak slowly and sonorously. A hush settled over the
+audience, and gradually I felt myself merging with the mass reaction of
+the rest. As I listened, I got the feeling that what he was saying was
+of tremendous importance, that somehow his words contained great and
+revealing wonders--or would contain them if I were only sufficiently
+advanced to comprehend their true meanings. The man was good, he knew
+his trade. All men search for truth at one level or another. I began to
+realize why such a proportionate few choose the cold and impersonal
+laboratory. Perhaps if there were a way to put science to music--
+
+The Swami talked on for about twenty minutes, and then I noticed his
+voice had grown deeper and deeper in tone, and suddenly, without any
+apparent transition, we all knew it was not really the Swami's voice we
+were hearing. And then he began to tell members of the audience little
+intimate things about themselves, things which only they should know.
+
+He was good at this, too. He had mastered the trick of making universals
+sound like specifics. I could do the same thing. The patterns of
+people's lives have multiple similarities. To a far greater extent than
+generally realized the same things happen to everyone. The idea was to
+take some of the lesser known ones and word them so they seemed to apply
+to one isolated individual.
+
+For instance, I could tell a fellow about when he was a little boy there
+was a little girl in a red dress with blond pigtails who used to scrap
+with him and tattle things about him to her mother. If he were inclined
+to be credulous, this was second sight I had. But it is a universal.
+What average boy didn't, at one time or another, know a little girl with
+blond pigtails? What blond little girl didn't occasionally wear a red
+dress? What little girl didn't tattle to her mother about the naughty
+things the boys were doing?
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Swami did that for a while. The audience was leaning forward in a
+rapture of ecstasy. First the organ tones of his voice soothed and
+softened. The phrases which should mean something if only you had the
+comprehension. The universals applied as specifics. He had his audience
+in the palm of his hand. He didn't need his crystal ball to tell him
+that.
+
+But he wanted it to be complete. Most of the responses had been from
+women. He gave them the generalities which didn't sound like
+generalities. They confirmed with specifics. But most were women. He
+wanted the men, too. He began to concentrate on the men. He made it
+easy.
+
+"I have a message," he said. "From ... now let me get it right ... from
+R. S. It is for a man in this audience. Will the man who knew R. S.
+acknowledge?"
+
+There was a silence. And that was such an easy one, too. I hadn't
+planned to participate, but, on impulse, since none of the other men
+were cooperating, I spoke up.
+
+"Robert Smith!" I exclaimed. "Good old Bob!"
+
+Several of the women sitting near me looked at me and beamed their
+approval. One of the husbands scowled at me.
+
+"I can tell by your tone," the Swami said, and apparently he hadn't
+recognized my tone, "that you have forgiven him. That is the message. He
+wants you to know that he is happy. He is much wiser now. He knows now
+that he was wrong."
+
+One of the women reached over and patted me on the shoulder, giving me
+motherly encouragement.
+
+But the Swami had no more messages for men. He was smart enough to know
+where to stop. He'd tried one of the simplest come-ons, and there had
+been too much of a pause. It had almost not come off.
+
+I wondered who good old Bob Smith was? Surely, among the thousands of
+applicants I'd interviewed, there must have been a number of them. And,
+being applicants, of course some of them had been wrong.
+
+The Swami's tones, giving one message after another--faster and faster
+now, not waiting for acknowledgment or confirmation--began to sink into
+a whisper. His speech became ragged, heavy. The words became
+indistinguishable. About his head there began to float a pale,
+luminescent sphere. There was a subdued gasp from the audience and then
+complete stillness. As though, unbreathing, in the depths of a tomb,
+they watched the sphere. It bobbed about, over the Swami's head and
+around him. At times it seemed as if about to float off stage, but it
+came back. It swirled out over the audience, but not too far, and never
+at such an angle that the long, flexible dull black wire supporting it
+would be silhouetted against the glowing crystal ball.
+
+Then it happened. There was a gasp, a smothered scream. And over at one
+side of the auditorium a dark object began bobbing about in the air up
+near the ceiling. It swerved and swooped. The Swami's luminescent sphere
+jerked to a sudden stop. The Swami sat with open mouth and stared at the
+dark object which he was not controlling.
+
+The dark object was not confined to any dull black wire. It went where
+it willed. It went too high and brushed against the ceiling.
+
+There was a sudden shower of coins to the floor. A compact hit the floor
+with a flat spat. A handkerchief floated down more slowly.
+
+"My purse!" a woman gasped. I recognized my interviewer's voice. Her
+purse contained two Auerbach cylinders, and they were having themselves
+a ball.
+
+In alarm, I looked quickly at the stage, hoping the Swami wasn't astute
+enough to catch on. But he was gone. The audience, watching the bobbing
+purse, hadn't realized it as yet. And they were delayed in realizing it
+by a diversion from the other side of the auditorium.
+
+"I can't hold it down any longer, Mr. Kennedy!" a woman gasped out.
+"It's taking me up into the air!"
+
+"Hold on, Annie!" I shouted back. "I'm coming!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A chastened and subdued Swami sat in my office the following morning,
+and this time he was inclined to be cooeperative. More, he was looking to
+me for guidance, understanding, and didn't mind acknowledging my
+ascendancy. And, with the lieutenant left in the outer office, he didn't
+have any face to preserve.
+
+Later, last night, he'd learned the truth of what happened after he had
+run away in a panic. I'd left a call at the hotel for the lieutenant.
+When the lieutenant had got him calmed down and returned my call, I'd
+instructed the lieutenant to tell the Swami about the Auerbach
+cylinders; to tell the Swami he was not a fake after all.
+
+The Swami had obviously spent a sleepless night. It is a terrible thing
+to have spent years perfecting the art of fakery, and then to realize
+you needn't have faked at all. More terrible, he had swallowed some of
+his own medicine, and was overcome with fear of the forces which he had
+been commanding. All through the night he had shivered in fear of some
+instant and horrible retaliation. For him it was still a case of There
+Are Mysteries.
+
+And it was of no comfort to his state of mind right now that the four
+cylinders we had finally captured last night were, at this moment,
+bobbing about in my office, swooping and swerving around in the upper
+part of the room, like bats trying to find some opening. I was giving
+him the full treatment! The first two cylinders, down on the floor, were
+pressing up against my closed door, like frightened little things trying
+to escape a room of horror.
+
+The Swami's face was twitching, and his long fingers kept twining
+themselves into King's X symbols. But he was sitting it out. He was
+swallowing some of the hair of the dog that bit him. I had to give him A
+for that.
+
+"I've been trying to build up a concept of the framework wherein psi
+seems to function," I told him casually, just as if it were all a
+formularized laboratory procedure. "I had to pull last night's stunt to
+prove something."
+
+He tore his eyes away from the cylinders which were over exploring one
+corner of the ceiling, and looked at me.
+
+"Let's go to electricity," I said speculatively. "Not that we know psi
+and electricity have anything in common, other than some similar
+analogies, but we don't know they don't. Both of them may be just
+different manifestations of the same thing. We don't really know why a
+magnetized core, turning inside a coil of copper wire, generates
+electricity.
+
+"Oh we've got some phrases," I acknowledged. "We've got a whole
+structure of phrases, and when you listen to them they sound as if they
+ought to mean something--like the phrases you were using last night.
+Everybody assumes they do mean something to the pundits. So, since it is
+human to want to be a pundit, we repeat these phrases over and over, and
+call them explanations. Yet we do know what happens, even if we do just
+theorize about why. We know how to wrap something around something and
+get electricity.
+
+"Take the induction coil," I said. "We feed a low-voltage current into
+one end, and we draw off a high-voltage current from the other. But
+anyone who wants, any time, can disprove the whole principle of the
+induction coil. All you have to do is wrap your core with a
+nonconductor, say nylon thread, and presto, nothing comes out. You see,
+it doesn't work; and anybody who claims it does is a faker and a liar.
+That's what happens when science tries to investigate psi by the
+standard methods.
+
+"You surround a psi-gifted individual with nonbelievers, and probably
+nothing will come out of it. Surround him with true believers; and it
+all seems to act like an induction coil. Things happen. Yet even when
+things do happen, it is usually impossible to prove it.
+
+"Take yourself, Swami. And this is significant. First we have the north
+point effect. Then those two little beggars trying to get out the door.
+Then the ones which are bobbing around up there. Without the cylinders
+there would have been no way to know that anything had happened at all.
+
+"Now, about this psi framework. It isn't something you can turn on and
+off, at will. We don't know enough yet for that. Aside from some
+believers and those individuals who do seem to attract psi forces, we
+don't know, yet, what to wrap around what. So, here's what you're to do:
+You're to keep a supply of these cylinders near you at all times. If any
+psi effects happen, they'll record it. Fair enough?
+
+"Now," I said with finality. "I have anticipated that you might refuse.
+But you're not the only person who has psi ability. I've wired General
+Sanfordwaithe to send me another fellow; one who will cooeperate."
+
+The Swami thought it over. Here he was with a suite in a good hotel;
+with an army lieutenant to look after his earthly needs; on the payroll
+of a respectable company; with a ready-made flock of believers; and no
+fear of the bunco squad. He had never had it so good. The side money,
+for private readings alone, should be substantial.
+
+Further, and he watched me narrowly, I didn't seem to be afraid of the
+cylinders. It was probably this which gave the clincher.
+
+"I'll cooeperate," he agreed meekly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For three days there was nothing. The Swami seemed cooeperative enough.
+He called me a couple times a day and reported that the cylinders just
+lay around his room. I didn't know what to tell him. I recommended he
+read biographies of famous mediums. I recommended fasting, and
+breathing, and contemplating self. He seemed dubious, but said he'd try
+it.
+
+On the morning of the third day, Sara called me on the intercom and told
+me there was another Army lieutenant in her office, and another charac
+... another gentleman. I opened my door and went out to Sara's office to
+greet them. My first glimpse told me Sara had been right the first time.
+He was a character.
+
+The new lieutenant was no more than the standard output from the same
+production line as Lieutenant Murphy, but the wizened little old man he
+had in tow was from a different and much rarer matrix. As fast as I had
+moved, I was none too soon. The character reached over and tilted up
+Sara's chin as I was coming through the door.
+
+"Now you're a healthy young wench," he said with a leer. "What are you
+doing tonight, baby?" The guy was at least eighty years old.
+
+"Hey, you, pop!" I exclaimed in anger. "Be your age!"
+
+He turned around and looked me up and down.
+
+"I'm younger, that way, than you are, right now!" he snapped.
+
+A disturbance in the outer office kept me from thinking up a retort.
+There were some subdued screams, some scuffling of heavy shoes, the
+sounds of some running feet as applicants got away. The outer door to
+Sara's office was flung open.
+
+Framed in the doorway, breast high, floated the Swami!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He was sitting, cross-legged, on a hotel bathmat. From both front
+corners, where they had been attached by loops of twine, there peeked
+Auerbach cylinders. Two more rear cylinders were grasped in Lieutenant
+Murphy's strong hands. He was propelling the Swami along, mid air, in
+Atlantic City Boardwalk style.
+
+The Swami looked down at us with aloof disdain, then his eyes focused on
+the old man. His glance wavered; he threw a startled and fearful look at
+the cylinders holding up his bathmat. They did not fall. A vast relief
+overspread his face, and he drew himself erect with more disdain than
+ever. The old man was not so aloof.
+
+"Harry Glotz!" he exclaimed. "Why you ... you faker! What are you doing
+in that getup?"
+
+The Swami took a casual turn about the room, leaning to one side on his
+magic carpet as if banking an airplane.
+
+"Peasant!" He spat the word out and motioned grandly toward the door.
+Lieutenant Murphy pushed him through.
+
+"Why, that no good bum!" the old man shouted at me. "That no-good from
+nowhere! I'll fix him! Thinks he's something, does he? I'll show him!
+Anything he can do I can do better!"
+
+His rage got the better of him. He rushed through the door, shaking both
+fists above his white head, shouting imprecations, threats, and pleading
+to be shown how the trick was done, all in the same breath. The new
+lieutenant cast a stricken look at us and then sped after his charge.
+
+"Looks as if we're finally in production," I said to Sara.
+
+"That's only the second one," she said mournfully. "When you get all six
+of them, this joint's sure going to be jumping!"
+
+I looked out of her window at the steel and concrete walls of the
+factory. They were solid, real, secure; they were a symbol of reality,
+the old reality a man could understand.
+
+"I hope you don't mean that literally, Sara," I answered dubiously.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+[Illustration]
+
+This etext was produced from _Astounding Science Fiction_ March 1955.
+Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright
+on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors
+have been corrected without note.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Sense from Thought Divide, by Mark Irvin Clifton
+
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