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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd25523 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63759 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63759) diff --git a/old/63759-0.txt b/old/63759-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 942213a..0000000 --- a/old/63759-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2261 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Brain Sinner, by Alan E. Nourse - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Brain Sinner - -Author: Alan E. Nourse - -Release Date: November 14, 2020 [EBook #63759] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRAIN SINNER *** - - - - - THE BRAIN SINNER - - By ALAN E. NOURSE - - _An invisible network of human minds - lay across the country, delicately tuned, - waiting breathlessly for the first spark - of contact from the unknown ... from - the unpredictable telepathic Alien._ - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Spring 1955. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -The ship skimmed down like a shadow from the outer atmosphere and -settled gently and silently in the tangled underbrush of the hill that -overlooked the bend in the broad river. There was a hiss of scorched -leaves, and the piping of a small, trapped animal. Then there was -silence. - -Higher up, the sunlight was bright over the horizon; here the shadows -had lengthened and it was quite dark. Far across the hills a dog -howled mournfully; night birds made small rustling sounds through the -scrub and underbrush. The alien waited, tensely, listening, waiting -with his mind open for any flicker of surprise or wonder, waiting for -a whisper of fear or recognition to slip into his mind from the dark -hills around the ship. He waited and waited. - -Then he gave a satisfied grunt. Foolish of him to worry. All possible -care had been taken to avoid any kind of alarm. He had landed unseen -from Io. - -The alien stretched back against the couch, allowing his long, tight -muscles to relax, as he sent inquiring feelers of thought out from the -ship, probing gently and tentatively, for signs of the psi-presence. -The landing, after all, had been assumed. Already the natives had -convinced themselves that ships such as his were a delusion. Such -simple creatures, to disregard the evidence of their own senses! There -should be no problem here when the invasion began, with the preliminary -studies already completed, the disguising techniques almost perfected. -A primitive world, indeed, but a world with psi-presence already -developing--a possible flaw in the forthcoming silent conquest. - -For psi-presence could detect other psi-presence, always, anywhere, -despite any disguise. The alien knew that. It was the one universal -denominator in all the centuries of conquest and enslavement in his -people's history. Before they could come, they must know the strength -of the psi-presence on this world. - -The alien moved, finally, beginning his preparations. In the center -of the cabin an image flickered, swarming flecks of light and shadow -that filled out a three-dimensional form, complete and detailed. The -alien sat back and studied it through hooded yellow eyes--carefully, -oh so carefully, for there must be no mistake, not here, not now. The -scouts had come and gone, bringing back the data and specimens of -the man-things necessary for a satisfactory disguise. Now the alien -stared at the image, regarding the bone structure and muscle contour -critically. Then, slowly, he began work with the plastiflesh, modelling -the sharp angles of his members into neat curves, skillfully laying -folds of skin, molding muscle bulges and jointed fingers, always -studying the strange, clumsy image that flickered before him. - -It was the image of a man. That was what they called themselves. There -were many of them, and somewhere among them there was psi-presence, -feeble and underdeveloped, but there somewhere. He eyed the image -again, and pressed a stud on the control panel, and another image -met his eyes, an electronic reflection of himself. He studied it, and -carefully superimposed the two, adding contour here and there, yellow -eyes seeking out imperfections as he worked. - -There must be no mistake. Failure would mean disgrace and death, -horrible, writhing death by dissociation and burning, neuron by -neuron. He knew. He had officiated at executions before; delightful -experiences, but not to be trifled with. He stared at the image again -and then at himself. - - * * * * * - -The skin tone was wrong. The yellow came through too clearly in -places, and in this strange culture that color was reported to carry -unpleasant connotations. He worked pale, sickly-pink stuff into his -soft, wrinkle-free skin, then molded out the cheeks and forehead. Hair -would be a problem, of course, but then there would be many small -imperfections. He smiled grimly to himself. There were other ways of -masking imperfections. - -At last he was satisfied. There was no way to bring the normal reddish -color into the pale green lips; there was no way to satisfactorily -prepare the myriad wrinkles and creases that crossed the skin of the -man-things, but with a little skillful application of projection -techniques it did not matter. - -The alien struggled into the tight, restricting clothes that lay in a -bundle, carefully folded and pressed, at his feet. The hard, board-like -shoes cut at his ankles, and the hairy stuff of the red-and-white -checked shirt made him writhe in discomfort, but once outside the -ship he was glad for the warmth. He stepped out onto the ground, and -listened again carefully. Then he made certain arrangements with wires, -and threw a switch on a small black case near the air lock, and began -marching down the hill away from the ship. - -He would no longer need the ship. Not now. - -The underbrush grew thicker, and he fought his way through the scrub -until he reached a roadway. It was not paved. A flicker of sour -amusement swept through the alien's mind. They had been afraid that -these simple creatures might try to oppose them! Yet the scouts had -said that far to the East were great stone and steel cities--the -places-of-madness, the scout had said. Perhaps. But here there was no -stone and steel, only dust, and the ruts of wagon wheels, and a howling -dog somewhere over the hill. - -The alien trudged on for almost an hour, trying to acclimate his legs -to the fierce tug of gravity that pulled at him. And then he stopped -short and listened. - -He heard them, then, in the depths of his mind, somewhere on the other -side of the hill. His eyes narrowed. No psi-presence there, but two of -the man-things, beyond doubt. Other whispers, too dull, stupid, vagrant -whispers flickering through his mind. Lower life forms, no doubt. -Possibly a farm with work animals. The scouts had said there were such. -He turned off the road and almost cried out when the sharp barbs of a -fence cut through his tender skin. - -A trickle of green dripped down his arm, until he rubbed a poultice -across it, and it became smooth and sickly-pink again. With a vicious -jerk he pulled the fence out, post and all, and left it on the ground, -moving through the woods toward the sounds he had heard. - -Soon the woods ended and he saw the dwelling across a broad clearing. -Black dirt lay open in the moonlight. He started across. There was -light inside the dwelling, and the dull, babbling flow of uncontrolled -man-thought struck his mind like a vapor. There were other buildings, -too, dark buildings, and one tall one that had a spoked wheel on top, -and creaked and rustled in the darkness. - -He had almost reached the dwelling when a small, four-legged creature -jumped up in the darkness, crying out at him in a horrible discordant -barrage. The creature came running swiftly, and the alien's mind caught -the sharp whine of fear and hate emanating from the thing. It stopped -before him, baring its fangs and snarling. - -The alien lashed his foot out savagely; it crunched into flesh and -bone, and the creature lay flopping helplessly, spurting dark wet -stuff, its cry cut off in mid-yelp. The alien stepped onto the porch -as the door opened suddenly, framing a tall, thin man-thing in a box -of yellow light. "Brownie?" he called. "Come here, Brownie! What's the -matter--" His words trailed off when he saw the alien. "Who are you?" - -"A traveller," said the alien, his voice grating harshly in the -darkness. "I need lodging and food--" - -The farmer's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he peered from the doorway. -"Come closer, let me get a look at you," he said. - -The alien stepped closer, concentrating all his psi-faculties on the -farmer's mind, blurring his perception of the minute imperfections of -his disguise. It required all his power; he had none left to probe the -farmer's mind, and he waited, trembling. That could come later. - -The farmer blinked, and nodded, finally. "All right," he said. "We've -got some food on the stove. Come on in." - - - II - -Senatorial Councilman Benjamin Towne slammed his cane down on the floor -with a snarl, and eased himself back down in his seat, staring angrily -around the small Federal Security Commission ante-room. The American -Council attaché standing near the door retrieved the cane, handing it -to the Councilman with a polite murmur. Instantly he regretted his -action when Towne began slapping the cane against his palm, short -staccato slaps that rang out ominously in the small room. - -The Councilman was not in the habit of waiting. He did not like it -in the least, and made no effort to conceal his feelings. His little -green cat eyes roved around the room in sharp disapproval, resting -momentarily on the neat autodesk, on the cool grey walls, on the -vaguely disturbing water-color on the wall--one of those sickening -Psi-High experimentals that the snob critics all claimed to be so -wonderful. The Councilman growled and blinked at the morning sunlight -streaming through the muted glass panels of the northeast wall. Far -below, the second morning rush hour traffic buzzed through the city -with frantic nervousness. - -The Councilman tapped his cane on the floor, glancing up at his -attaché. "That Sanders girl," he snapped. "Give me her file again." - -The Council attaché opened a large briefcase, and produced a thick -bundle of papers in a manilla folder. Towne took them and glanced -through the papers, lighting one of his long, green-tipped cigarettes -from a ruby-studded lighter. "How about Dr. Abrams? Was he questioned?" - -The attaché nodded in embarrassment. "Nothing doing. He ran us in -circles." - -Towne's scowl deepened. "Did you give him the Treatment?" - -"He just wasn't having any, sir. Said he'd answer to a Joint Council -hearing, and nothing less." - -"Stubborn old goat. He knows I've got nothing that will stand up in a -Council hearing." Towne went back to the papers again, still tapping -the floor with the cane. "_Damn_ that Roberts!" - -The attaché glanced down at Benjamin Towne with some curiosity. -It was easy to see how the man drew such powerful support from -his constituents. There was something overwhelming about his -appearance--the heavy jaw and grim mouth line, the shock of sandy hair -that fell over his forehead, the burning green eyes, the stout, well -muscled body. The attaché's eyes drifted down to the withered left leg -and the grotesque twisted foot, and he looked away in embarrassment. -What was so awe-inspiring about a crippled man who accumulated great -power? Towne certainly had done that. Some said that Ben Towne was the -most powerful man in North America. Some also said that he was the -greatest man, but that was something quite different indeed. And some -said that he was the most dangerous man alive. The attaché shivered. -That was none of his business. If he went probing _that_ line too far -they'd be calling him Psi-High, and he liked his job too much to risk -that. - -The inner door opened and a tall man with prematurely gray hair strode -in, followed by a girl in her early twenties. "Sorry to keep you, -Councilman," the man said. "No, no, don't get up. We can talk right -here." - -Towne had made no effort to rise. He glared at the man, and then his -eyes drifted to the girl and widened angrily. "I said a _private_ -conference, Roberts. I don't want one of these damned brain-picking -snakes in the same room with me." - -The man nodded cooly to the girl. "Sit down, Jean. Councilman, this is -Jean Sanders. If you're here about the Alien investigation, I want her -to sit in." - -Ben Towne slowly set the papers down on the floor. "Record this, -Roger," he said to the attaché. His eyes turned to Roberts. "I -understand he slipped out of your hands again yesterday," he said with -vicious smoothness. "A pity." - -Roberts reddened. "That's right. He slipped out clean." - -"No pictures, no identifications, no nothing, eh?" - -"I'm afraid not." - -Towne's voice was deadly. "Mr. Roberts, an unidentified Alien creature -has been at large in this country for three solid weeks, and your -Federal Security teams haven't even gotten near him. I want to know -why." - -"I'd suggest that if you read our reports--" - -"Damn you, man, I didn't come here for insolence!" Towne slammed the -cane down with a clatter. "You're answerable to the Joint Senatorial -Council of the North American States for every wretched thing you do, -and I'm ready to bring charges of criminal negligence against you in -this Alien investigation--" - -"_Criminal negligence!_" Roberts jumped up, his eyes blazing. "My god, -Councilman! We've thrown everything we have into this search. This -creature has played us for fools every step of the way! We didn't even -get a look at his ship. It blew up right in our faces! Do you realize -what we're fighting here?" - -"I realize quite well," said Towne, frostily. "You're fighting an -Alien who has slipped into our population, somehow, and just vanished. -There's no way to tell what he wants or what he's doing. The potential -danger of his presence is staggering. And you've fumbled and groaned -for three weeks without even turning up a hot trail. You haven't even a -coherent description of him--" - -"We're fighting a telepath," Roberts said softly. "An Alien with -telepathic powers like nothing we've ever dreamed of. That's what we're -fighting. And we're losing, too." - -The girl across the room stirred uneasily. Ben Towne's green eyes shot -over to her viciously. "And you're using freaks like her to help him -hide, I suppose." - -"Jean Sanders is not a freak." Roberts' voice grated in the still air -of the room. "She's Psi-High, and she's the most valuable asset we've -got in this search at the present moment. It's a real pity there aren't -more Psi-Highs that have had her training." - -"And you sit there and tell me you'd dare use Psi-Highs in an -investigation as critical as this?" - -Roberts sighed in disgust. "Councilman, you don't have any idea what -you're saying." - -"I beg to differ," Towne's eyes flashed. "I happen to be aware that -there are a group of individuals wandering around loose who will have -this country in chains in a hundred years if they're allowed to develop -as they please. Psi-Highs are a vicious menace, nothing more nor less. -We can't help it that we have them. The fools in the government were -blind two hundred years ago when they first started appearing, and -psi-factors are gene-controlled. But they can't use their extra-sensory -powers without training." - -He picked up the cane and leaned forward at Roberts. "Thanks to Reuben -Abram's meddling over at the Hoffman Center, some of them are already -developing their psi-faculties, learning to use a treacherous power -that has no place in civilized society. Well, _I don't want them -working in Security_! Is that clear enough?" - -Roberts sighed tiredly and leaned back in his chair. "You're confused -a little," he said. "This is not the Rotary Club. It's not a Federal -Isolationist rally, and it's not the Senate floor, either. It's just me -you're talking to. And to my knowledge, you haven't succeeded as yet -in removing all Psi-High rights. You've gotten laws through Congress -to make them take tests and submit to registration; you've passed laws -to prevent them from marrying; you've blocked their education and -hamstrung their training and developement, but you _haven't_, as yet, -been able to strip them of their citizenship--" - -"Not as yet," said Ben Towne. - -"And you can't, as yet, dictate the activities of the Federal Security -Commission." - -"Not as yet." - -Roberts' eyes blazed. "All right. Now you can listen to me for a -minute, Councilman, recording or no recording. We've got an enemy in -our midst--an Alien we've never even seen. We can thank a psi-positive -citizen out in Des Moines for spotting him in the first place. He had -the sense and the loyalty to report it to us. Normal psi-negative -individuals can't see him, can't identify him, can't even get near him. -We haven't tried Psi-High agents against him yet but we're going to -have to, whether you like it or not. Psi-negatives are strapped. The -Alien can run circles around them. Our only hope of catching him is -to use psi-positive agents, the best-trained we can get our hands on. -Like Jean, here. And if you want to stop me you'll have to reorganize -Federal Security to do it." - -Towne lurched to his feet, his face white. "I may do that, Roberts." He -reached for his cane. "I may just do that." - -"You'll have to throw the Liberal Council out of office first. They're -supporting me, and outvoting your American Council two to one." - -Towne gave him a shrewd look. "Better start watching the telecasts, and -newstapes," he said bluntly. "Already there are rumors going around -about a mysterious Alien fugitive. Oh, I know it's top secret, but -you know how news leaks." He gave a nasty smile. "People get nervous -about rumors like that, especially when the Administration denies -them so sharply. You'd better catch him pretty quick." He nodded to -his attaché, and limped to the door. Then he glanced back over his -shoulder. "Be sure to watch the telecasts," he said, and slammed the -door behind him. - -Jean Sanders stood up, white-faced and trembling. "What a vicious man," -she murmured. "What did he mean, Bob?" - -Robert Roberts shook his head, and fished a cigar from a desk drawer. -"I'm not sure that I know," he said slowly. - - - III - -Paul Faircloth finished reading the teletape briefing just as the -little jet plane slipped down toward the hangar slot in South Chicago. -He slapped the spools into the erasure can and flipped the control -switch to activate the distortion field inside the can. He stretched -his legs, then, wondering vaguely whether he was going to come out of -this whole mess alive. - -Jean's parting hug was still warm in his memory, and he remembered the -worry in her big grey eyes as she had kissed him and said, "Be careful, -darling. I wish I could go, too. I couldn't bear to have anything -happen--" It was the first time she had ever actually spoken that word -to him, and he was glad she had. Almost defiantly glad. She had said it -aloud, and she had said so much, much more without words. Only vague -shadows in Faircloth's untrained mind, but he knew the meaning of those -shadows. - -A man was waiting down below on the platform for him. The hangar vault -was dark and deserted. He took the agent's card and scanned it briefly. -"Marino? I'm Paul Faircloth. Better give me a late briefing." - -Marino nodded. He was small and wiry, with catlike movements and -exceedingly bright eyes under his jet black eyebrows. "We'd be wise to -get on over while we talk," he said. - -Faircloth nodded and stepped into the little tube-car that was waiting -at the end of the platform. It was a tight fit for two men, and Paul -ducked by reflex as it gave a lurch and dipped down the chute into a -narrow tunnel, hanging free and speeding ahead on its electronic guide -beam. "Is the Condor Building where he was spotted?" - -Marino nodded. "In Center City, Chicago. First thirty-six floors are -commercial, and the twenty above are residential. He's pinned pretty -definitely on the forty-second, in a large residential suite. No idea -why he chose it or how long he's been there--" He turned apologetic -eyes to Faircloth. "I'm Psi-High--I guess you know. We've got him -located and triangulated, and we can keep him pretty well pinned if -he doesn't try to give us a shower. We're pretty sure he knows we're -there." - -"Shower?" - -Marino nodded, grimly tapping his forehead. "A barrage, the works. This -Alien's got a powerful psi. And I mean powerful. He gave it to one of -our Psi-High men yesterday. It was savage. Nearly ripped him apart." - -Faircloth shivered. "But you can keep track of him." - -"Yes." Marino lit a cigarette with nervous fingers. "Roberts put -Psi-Highs out to spot him, but he doesn't want any Psi-Highs in on the -kill." His voice was flat with disappointment. "Political pressure, I -guess. People couldn't bear to give a Psi-High credit for anything--" -He glanced at Faircloth and reddened. "Sorry. No offense. It just -slipped out." He bit his lip. "Anyway, that's what you're here for. -Half a dozen other psi-negatives will help you. I hope God'll be -helping you too." - -Faircloth grinned tightly. "Got you nervous?" - -"It's got me plenty nervous." - -Faircloth nodded again, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "All right. I -want your best men, every one of them, to go in with me. I don't care -whether they're Psi-High or not. Neither does Roberts; he's with you -folks all the way. But we've got to get this creature and get him cold. -He's slick. Is the building sewed up?" - -"Tight as a vacutainer." - -"Good. Keep it under cover, and try to keep the Psi-Highs from -broadcasting any more than necessary." - -Marino gave him a queer look. "They'll do their best, of course." - -"Right." Faircloth ran a hand through his brown hair and loosened his -tie a trifle. "As soon as the building is cleared from rush hour, I -want the power shut off all over the building. Elevators, lights, -everything. We'll be on the 41st floor, and a squad will be on the -43rd. We'll close in together." - -Marino shook his head. "I hope it works. They had him just as tight in -Des Moines last week, and he slid right through." The man's eyes were -worried. "We just don't know what we're fighting. That's the whole -trouble. Even the Psi-Highs are up a tree." - - * * * * * - -The car gave a lurch and slid to a stop. They stepped out into a shiny -tunnel filled with people emptying out of the huge building above. The -two men waited to board an express surface elevator, and stepped off on -the main concourse of the Condor Building. The last sunset rays made -a dazzling golden display on the banks of heliomirrors, and Faircloth -blinked, shielding his eyes a moment after the softer light below. -Then he glanced at his watch. "Let's coffee up," he said. "We've got a -few minutes." - -They slid into an eating booth on the concourse and dropped in coins -for coffee. It was so clumsy, Faircloth thought. Three and a half weeks -since the ship had been spotted down along the Mississippi, and they -were still just learning how clumsy they were. They had even thought -that the visitor, whoever he was, had been killed in landing until the -first Security Team had gotten to the ship. They'd gotten to within -just ten feet of it when it had exploded. And even then they hadn't -realized what they'd found, until the report came from Des Moines, and -they started following up leads. They had followed the alien, true, -from the first farmhouse where he had stopped the night he landed, west -through the farm country to Des Moines, then northeast to the great -Chicago metropolis. But when it came to contacting the creature or -capturing him--Faircloth shook his head. Clumsy just wasn't the right -word. - -He glanced at Marino, and then readied across the booth and buzzed for -a newstape. He glanced over the Washington news hurriedly. Another -upheaval in the Liberal Council. The Northern Democrats were trying to -drum up Civil Rights Party and One World Party support for their new -South American Developement program, and they weren't getting to first -base. And there was another vicious attack by Ben Towne on the Hoffman -Center's training program for Psi-Highs. Towne had even named Reuben -Abrams as a leader there, and worked in some high-grade anti-Semitic -innuendo into the association. Paul went tense, searching for Jean's -name. It was not mentioned. He took a deep breath. If that filthy dog -ever dragged her name into public. He finished his coffee, and gave the -repeat button a vicious jab. - -Then his eye caught a small item with a Des Moines dateline, well -hidden down at the bottom of the backside of the tape. He read it, -frowning: - - WOMAN CHARGES PSI-HIGH CONSPIRACY - - Des Moines, Ia., 27 June, 2157. A woman whose name was withheld - today placed charges against Miss Martha Bishop, 23, of Oak Park - Section, Chicago, whose name is listed in the Federal psi-positive - registry. The charge was made at local Federal Security offices, - and accused Miss Bishop of mental interference. The victim, who - allegedly had information concerning the rumors of an Alien visitor - which have been persistently appearing lately, claimed that Miss - Bishop had attempted to prevent her from reporting her information. - After failing in this attempt, Miss Bishop was charged with using - her psi-powers to erase the information from the woman's mind. Miss - Bishop could not be reached for comment. - - Mr. J. B. Dunlap, spokesman for the Liberal Senatorial Council in - Washington, has repeatedly denied that the rumor of alien visitors - has any basis in fact. Nevertheless, the charges against Miss - Bishop are being investigated fully-- - -Faircloth crumpled the tape with a snarl and returned to his coffee. -Finally he nodded to Marino. "Drink up," he said, "and get in touch -with your men. It's time to go." - -Ted Marino left for the elevators to corral his men, arranging to meet -Faircloth in the concourse five minutes later. Paul found a visiphone -relay booth, and sank his long, lean body down in a relaxer facing the -screen. The last of the rush-hour people were still drifting by in the -corridor; Paul watched them anxiously. Then he gave a nervous laugh, -forcing himself to relax for a moment. If only Jean were here! He -battled an impulse to call her. Finally he dialed the priority code for -the Federal Security Commission offices in Washington. - -The relays clicked, and the code carried him through the front-line -secretaries without any trouble. He gave a sigh of relief. He was in -no mood to argue with secretaries. A moment later he was blinking at -Roberts' tri-di image on the screen. - -Roberts' face looked haggard. He nodded to Faircloth. "You got there, -then. Good. How does it look, Paul?" - -"Everything's just real nice," Faircloth growled. "They think they've -got him pinned. The building here has a central power source, and we -can bottleneck the whole place if we time it right." - -"Don't miss, Paul." Roberts' voice was tense. "Whatever you do, don't -miss." - -"What's the matter?" - -"Ben Towne has worked his way into this." - -"Oh, god!" - -"Well, I can't help it, there was nothing I could do. He has the whole -American Council behind him, and the Liberals can't hold out long on -negative results. Towne has the whole picture now, and if we don't -wrap it up fast, things here in the Capitol are going to blow sky high." - -Faircloth scowled. "Did you see the newstapes tonight?" - -"You mean the Bishop girl in Des Moines?" Roberts nodded unhappily. -"Got the report from Des Moines on it this afternoon. Trumped up from -beginning to end. I tell you, Towne is not playing around. I don't -know how he plans to work things, but I'm afraid that story was just -a starter. He'll do everything he can to tie the Alien up with the -Psi-Highs in the public eye--and you know Ben Towne when he gets -rolling. He'll play this rumor business up to the hilt. And the way -things are in the Senate now, that could mean real trouble." - -"Who's controlling Security news releases?" - -Roberts gave a short laugh. "Take a guess. Just one guess. Don't miss -tonight, my friend." - - * * * * * - -Faircloth nodded and signalled off. He sat swearing quietly to himself -for a few moments. Then Marino came by, and he swung out into the hall -again, glancing at his watch. "Ready?" - -Marino nodded. "Got the squads placed on the 41st and 43rd. Power goes -off when we step off the elevator on the 41st. Okay?" - -Faircloth grunted, and spread out a floor plan of the 42nd floor. "Is -the building all clear?" - -"All the commercial levels, yes. And autolocks go on all the doors but -the one we want when the power goes off." - -"Good. At least we shouldn't have residents underfoot. You've got -Psi-Highs posted outside the building?" - -"Yes, in 'copters. Circling the building fairly close, out of sight -range of the 42nd." - -"All right. We'll move in on him as soon as the power goes off. I want -cameras going everywhere--in the corridors, in the stairwells, even -in the 'copters outside. If there's a slip-up, I want to see where he -goes, and especially I want a picture of him. A _good_ picture of him. -Maybe he can fuzz up human eyesight, but he'll have a hell of a time -fuzzing up a camera. Let's go." - -They stepped on the elevator, felt it rush up to the 41st floor. They -stepped off. As the door closed behind them, the whirring motors died, -and the lights went out. Faircloth led the way swiftly to the closed -stairwell where they met four other men, one with a motion camera. -"Cover everything," Paul said sharply. "If you see him, stop him with a -shocker, not with pellets. We want him alive." He opened the stairwell -and started up with the men behind him. Moments later they met part of -the group from the 43rd; they started swiftly down the dark corridor -toward the pinpointed residential suite. - -And then, like a savage blow, a wall of fire exploded in Faircloth's -brain. He gave a scream and jerked out his arms in an agonized -convulsion. He fell forward on his face. - -Wave after wave of searing agony burned through his brain; he jerked on -the floor, trying to scream again, unable to force a sound through his -twisted lips. He heard shouts around him, and a whistle shrilled; there -were running feet. Somebody tripped over him, tumbled to the floor with -a bone jarring crash. Three shots rang out even as he dragged himself -to his knees. - -He was blinded; he had never felt such horrible, driving pain, and -he clawed along the wall as more footsteps echoed frantically in the -corridor. Suddenly Marino was shaking his arm, and together they burst -through the open door of the suite as a roar of derisive laughter tore -through his mind. - -Faircloth opened his eyes and saw the empty room through a burning red -haze of pain. He collapsed on a chair, exhausted, as Marino threw open -all the doors. He gave a shout down the hall and others came running. - -Unbelieving, Faircloth stared around him, then looked frantically at -Marino. "You--you got him on the stairs?" - -Marino shook his head miserably. "Nobody could see him. Not a soul." - -The hoarse laughter grew louder in Faircloth's ears. "The cameras!" he -gasped. - -"Three of them are smashed. I don't know about the rest--" - -"You're certain?" - -Marino didn't answer. The answer was obvious. The Alien had slipped -away like a ghost in the night. - - - IV - -Robert Roberts was waiting, nervous as a cat, when Faircloth arrived -at the Security office. There were deep circles under his pale grey -eyes, and a dark stubble on his chin. He greeted Paul with a silent -handshake; then they went back into the rear office, with its modern -panelled wall looking out across the valley to the tall white buildings -of the Capitol. Once it had been an inspiring sight to Faircloth. Now -he hardly even noticed. A rocket rose in the morning air, leaving its -white vapor trail like a pillar of cloud behind it. The weekly Venus -rocket, probably, or maybe one of the dozens of speculator ships off -for Titan. Faircloth scowled and sank into a relaxer with a sigh. "I'm -sorry, Bob," he said. "It was a bust. I couldn't help it." - -Roberts mixed a drink and shoved it across the desk to Paul; then he -touched off the end of a long black cigar. "What's done is done," he -said sourly. "You thought he was sewed up, and it turned out that he -wasn't." He turned worried eyes to Faircloth. "What we've got to know -is why he wasn't sewed up. Something went sour. What was it?" - -Faircloth was silent for a long moment. Then he said: "I think the -whole approach is sour." - -"Very possibly. How do you mean?" - -"I mean we're outclassed, that's what. This Alien is out of our -league--way out." His eyes caught Roberts'. "He's a telepath, Bob, and -I don't mean halfway. He's not just a feeble, groping, half-baked, -half-trained, poorly developed Psi-High human. I mean we're dealing -with telepathic power no human Psi-High ever even dreamed of--" - -Roberts' lips were tight. "Exactly what happened in Chicago?" - -"That's just it, I don't know." Faircloth sprang to his feet, his face -white. "Look, Bob, the building was virtually escape-proof. The boys -had every exit guarded three ways from Sunday. The power was off in the -entire building, and there was no way he could get out short of walking -through walls. And we had the walls guarded just in case he could. -We got him sewed up, and then we went in to get him, and WHAMMO!" -Faircloth clenched his fists, trembling. "I don't want to go through -that again, Bob, not for anything. It was murderous. And the horrible -part of it was that he wasn't using his full power on me. What I got -was just a gentle rap on the knuckles--" - -"And he slid through." - -"Clean. Smashed the cameras; got away without leaving a trace." - -Roberts shook his head, and fished a folder from his desk. "He didn't -smash all the cameras." He shoved the pictures across to Paul. "See -what you make of those." - -Faircloth blinked at them. There were several frames, obviously -printed from motion film. Pictures of a man-like figure running down a -passageway. The face was not visible. "Not much help," said Faircloth. -"Gives us a clothing description, maybe. Nothing else. He certainly -looks human enough!" - -Roberts nodded sourly. "At that distance anything would. Can't even get -reliable measurements. And you didn't even see him?" - -Faircloth shook his head. "Like I said, the whole approach is sour. -You're never going to get him this way." - -"You've got some ideas, I suppose?" - -"I have." - -"Well, thank God somebody has." Some of the tiredness left Roberts' -face. "Let's have them." - -Paul Faircloth lit a cigarette and slowly shook his head. "Sorry," he -said. "First I want some answers. Straight answers about a certain -individual." - -Roberts' eyes narrowed. "You mean Ben Towne." - -"That's right." - -Roberts scowled and threw down his cigar. "All right, I'll tell you -about Ben Towne. It isn't pretty. Frankly, this Chicago fiasco was the -break Towne has been waiting for. There were Psi-Highs involved in -that raid. Towne knows it. And he's going to build a story of Psi-High -alliance with the Alien that will carry him to the White House." - -Faircloth nodded grimly. "Does he have any conception of the -dangerousness of this creature?" - - * * * * * - -Roberts snorted. "Of course he knows it! But Ben Towne is obsessed -with a single idea, and it twists everything he thinks into horrible -distortion." He leaned forward, staring at Paul. "Benjamin Towne wants -to wipe psi-positive faculties off the face of the Earth. He hates -Psi-Highs. Oh, I don't know the motives behind it. Maybe the fact of -his own imperfect body makes him hate what he considers a sort of -super-perfection appearing in the human race. It's a false premise, -of course. The predisposition of certain people to high extra-sensory -powers is neither a perfection nor an imperfection. - -"It's just another tiny step in the evolutionary chain. It happens -to be a dominant gene factor, and in our society it happens to put -the Psi-High in a slightly advantageous position in comparison to -psi-negatives." - -Roberts threw up his hands. "But the motives don't really matter. -Towne was smart enough to realize that there were lots of people -who hated and feared the expansion of Psi-Highs in our society. He -started fighting against it, and he's ridden that fight right into the -Chairmanship of the American Senatorial Council. If he can split up the -Liberal Council just a little bit, he can throw them out of office, and -move his American Party right in." - -"And where does the Alien fit in?" - -Roberts shrugged. "It's obvious, isn't it? Towne has taken an issue and -split the country wide open with it. And now, along comes a visitor -from the stars, an Alien visitor who steps out of his ship and just -disappears like a spirit into the population. An Alien who is fully -telepathic. Towne can control the news releases; he has the power to -decide on the security classification of information about the Alien. -It's been kept top secret up 'til now. But Ben can control the news, -and he can tie Psi-High humans and a vicious enemy Alien together so -neatly in the public mind that every Psi-High in the country will be in -danger of his life. It's political dynamite, and Towne is controlling -the fuse." - -Faircloth's face was white. "And if the Alien is caught?" - -"All the better for Towne. Then the 'rumored' liason between Psi-High -humans and invaders from space can be 'proved.' Towne is in the -driver's seat." - -Faircloth nodded bitterly, and stood up, shaking the creases out of his -trousers. His face was grim. As he reached for his hat, his hand was -trembling. "That's just about the way I had it lined up, too," he said. -"Good-bye, Bob. Have a nice hunt." - -"Sit down, Paul." - -"Sorry. I'm not working on Ben Towne's payroll." - -"I think you are," Roberts snapped. His eyes flashed, and he sat up -straight behind the desk. "You're going to work with us, and you're -going to follow through to the bitter end. You and Jean both." - -Faircloth's eyes darkened. "Jean is not involved in this." - -"I am afraid she is. Just as deep as you are. And you and Jean are -going to do what I tell you in this investigation whether you happen to -like it or not. That is, if you ever want to marry Jean--" - -Faircloth whirled on Roberts, his eyes blazing. "What do you mean by -that?" he said softly. "What are you trying to say?" - -Roberts' eyes caught Paul's, and held them. "I'm saying that you happen -to be a Psi-High, Paul. And I just happen to know it." - - * * * * * - -Paul Faircloth sank down in the chair again, staring at Roberts' face. -There was silence in the room for a long time. Then Paul said, "That's -a pretty bad joke, Bob." - -Roberts nodded sharply, his eyes twinkling. "I'll say it's a joke. It's -a colossal horse laugh--on Ben Towne. He was so sure that that private -file of his contained the names and histories of every psi-positive -individual in the country! It's a horse on you, too. It's against -Federal law to forge examination papers, Paul. It's against the law for -a Psi-High to be unregistered. Both state and Federal registration are -required. And it's against the law for two Psi-Highs to be married, -regardless of their stage of developement. Jean's work with Dr. Abrams -has developed her powers amazingly in the last couple of years. Yours -must be pretty crude, in order to keep them hidden so well--" - -"You've gone out of your mind," said Faircloth flatly. - -"Sorry, my friend. I'm afraid not." - -"But you have no proof--" - -"True, its strictly a hunch, and a little personal investigation. You -were through school when the registry law went through, and you must -have found somebody to leak the examination to you early. How you did -it, I neither know nor care. But all I need is a good strong suspicion -to subpoena you over to the Hoffman Center for a test." He smiled -at Faircloth. "Care to have me call Dr. Abrams? He's got some nice -definitive tests--" - -Faircloth's eyes fell. "That won't be necessary." He sighed, and sank -wearily back into the relaxer. "I knew it would be spotted sooner or -later. I even thought for a while that Marino had spotted it." - -"He had." - -Faircloth nodded listlessly. "All right. What do you want, Bob?" - -Roberts' eyes were excited. "I want you to work with me. I think we -can get this Alien and sink Ben Towne's raft at the same time. There's -no single person in the country as dangerous to Towne right now as an -unregistered and unrecognized Psi-High. And that's just what you are. -And with you and Jean working this thing as a team, I think we can turn -the capture of the Alien to the benefit of all Psi-Highs." - -Faircloth nodded slowly. "It could be done if my ideas are any good. -And they certainly would require Jean to put them across." - -"Then you're with me?" - -"Okay. You've got the aces." Faircloth gave a defeated grin. "I'll -probably hate you for this but let's get Jean over here and do some -planning. The first job on the docket is to pin this Alien and keep him -pinned." - - - V - -Jean Sanders tossed her pencil down on the desk and flopped down -cross-legged on the floor. "I think we're going around in circles," she -said disgustedly. "Three separate circles," she added, with an owlish -glance at Bob Roberts. - -"All right, we're tired," the Security chief sighed. "We've been at -this for hours." - -"It's here," Faircloth said stubbornly. "We've got all the information -we need, if we can only pin down the application. Or at least we've got -enough information to make a start." - -"The more I see of the whole business," said the girl, "the more it -looks fishy to me." She lit a cigarette thoughtfully. Her face was -slender, with black brows and big grey eyes, and her slim figure made -her look sixteen. "And it gets fishier and fishier the more we talk." - -Paul nodded. "Exactly. There's something that we aren't seeing or -realizing or that we just don't know about this creature." - -"Well, let's try classifying what we do know," said Roberts. "We've got -a picture that isn't worth a plugged nickel. We've got a few photos -of the outside of the ship before it exploded. We know that he's -psi-triple-high, fully telepathic, with the ability to fuzz up his -observer's perception of him." - -"Disguise," said Jean. "It isn't perfect. He needs that to hide the -wrinkles in the disguise." - -Faircloth walked across the room, staring at the walls. "Then there's -the ship. It was found near Gutenberg, Iowa, on a bluff overlooking the -Mississippi, three months ago. That's a fact. Farm kids found the ship -but didn't go near it. Scared stiff. Told their father and he called -Security. I don't suppose there was any way of telling how long the -ship had been there?" - -Roberts shook his head. "Biologists and geologists both had a whack at -it, but the explosion destroyed all the flora and ground area within -twenty feet of it." - -"Well, anyway, no occupant of the ship was found, and no trace of where -the occupant might have gone. Security sent a scout squad down to -photograph the ship and it blew into a million pieces." - -"That's right." - -"How many of the million pieces were recovered?" - -"About ten. Magnesium alloy. Told us nothing." - -Faircloth nodded. "Okay. Then the Psi-High report came in from Des -Moines, and you turned up the farmer and his wife who saw the Alien -the first night. What was their name? Bettendorf, I think. Jacob -Bettendorf. Rather dull folks. They fed him and sent him on his way. -Noticed nothing odd, but the farmer said his eyes felt tired all the -time the creature was there. How did their description jive with the -others you've gotten?" - -Roberts shrugged. "The same--or I should say, uniformly different. -Nobody seems to agree. It's obvious that they don't actually see him in -any detail at all. They just think they do." - -"You know," said the girl, suddenly, "that's one of the things that -bothers me. A lot of those people out there are Ben Towne's stoutest -supporters. They don't like Psi-Highs. They keep their eyes open -for people that act like Psi-Highs--you know, the way we're likely -to nod and start answering a question before a person gets it half -asked--or the way we sometimes forget our expressions when we've had -an accidental peep at some sweet innocent young girl's inner thoughts. -Those people can spot that. But the Alien went right through. Not even -a suspicion." - -"He got into the city fast, though," said Roberts. "City folks are -likely to be a lot less observant than country people." - -"All right," said Paul. "That fits well enough. Now, since he destroyed -his ship, we can assume that he is planning to stay a while. That -probably means that there have been others before him. He's too -confident for an advance scout. He knew he could mingle, and stay, -and observe, and learn, and get away with it. Probably his job is to -accumulate information, detailed information about human beings, and -with full blown telepathy he must really be making hay. And unless I -miss my guess, the information he wants most of all is information -about Psi-Highs." Faircloth faced Roberts and the girl. "This is -beginning to add up now. I don't think we're going to catch him in -a dragnet. No matter how skillfully it's laid. No matter how many -Psi-Highs we have on it, and no matter how well trained they are." - -Roberts looked disgusted. "Then you're saying that we aren't going to -get him, period." - -"Oh, no. I think we can catch him. At least I've got an angle that's -worth trying. We'll have no way of evaluating it first, because of -the nature of the thing, but in the end we'll either have the Alien or -we won't, and I think there's a good chance that we will. If we keep -playing the Chicago game we'll lose every time." - -"But what went wrong in Chicago?" Roberts cried. - -"Nothing, except that we were licked before we started. Look at it this -way. He's outguessed us every time. And if you analyze that a little, -it's not really surprising that he has because he's telepathic. He does -not need a twenty-page report and a road map to know what's going on -around him. All he needs is a hint. Just a bare touch of man's mind, -a slight flicker of contact, and he has enough of a head start to sit -down and figure out everything that's going to happen from then on. -Just like a chess game. You play along and suddenly your opponent -makes a move that reveals a whole gambit which you hadn't been able to -see before. But our Alien friend spots the gambit on the basis of the -first move instead of the tenth. We make a move and he has it pinned. -He knows we operate along fairly logical lines. He can follow out the -logical possibilities before they happen, and there's no possible way -we can trap him. Psi-Highs or no Psi-Highs." - -Roberts scowled at him. "Then what do you propose?" - -Faircloth grinned. "It should be obvious by this time. We feed the -computer with all the evidence we have, and let it meditate a while -and plot out a supremely logical approach to trap the creature on -the basis of what we know of him now. Then we take that supremely -logical approach, and change it a bit. We change it into a completely -_illogical_ approach." - - * * * * * - -The call they were waiting for came through at three o'clock one -morning, after they had almost given it up in despair. - -It had been a long, heartbreaking wait. Time after time Faircloth had -pleaded that they must have been very close in Chicago, closer than -they realized, that the Alien was just temporarily frightened, because -there had been no sign, no due to the Alien's whereabouts, no sign that -he was even in existence since the Chicago raid. Yet Faircloth felt -sure that sooner or later the contact would come. - -It was possible, of course, that the change in the search pattern -had worried the Alien. Logically, a dragnet should have been set up -in Chicago, and the entranceways to all the large cities guarded -carefully. That was what the computer had said. "Probability is very -strong that the Alien desires to remain in a city, but suggests that -Chicago may not be the optimum location for him. Recommended heavy -Security measures be taken in Chicago and surrounding cities of -size. The probability is very high that the Alien is seeking some -specific information. Advise close control of all spaceports, air, and -rolling-road escapeways--" - -And so forth. That was what the computer had said. Of course, the -computer was far from infallible, but its analysis and recommendations -were utterly logical on the basis of the information given it. That was -exactly why they were carefully ignored. - -It was a gamble, and no one was more aware of this than Faircloth. -All Security personnel were withdrawn from the Chicago area, Psi-High -and otherwise, except for a small crew headed by Ted Marino, who were -scattered throughout the city. A gamble, but it was not entirely -guesswork that made Paul so certain that the Alien, if left quite -alone, would try to make contact with a Psi-High mind sooner or later. -Of course, that conclusion itself was the result of logical reasoning. -No matter what efforts were made to remove logic from the approach, it -crept in. It had to creep in. - -It was logical that a telepathically sensitive creature visiting a -strange planet would seek to learn something about the segment of the -population that could expose his presence. He would seek signs of his -own kind of thought. Paul knew too well that a Psi-High mind that -was cut off and alone was a sick mind. That was why Psi-Highs always -settled in the cities, why they sought each other with such fierce, -desperate clannishness which in itself had bred suspicion of them in -the minds of psi-negatives. It was not a matter of choice, with them. -It was a desperate need. And Paul knew how overpowering that need could -be. - -No, logically, the Alien would make contact with a human Psi-High, -sooner or later. It would not be difficult to keep control of such -a contact. The Psi-Highs were very few, numbering in the hundreds, -scattered in colonies in the larger cities of the North American -States. With painstaking care each one was contacted and warned, and -those in Security Service were spotted in the most likely places for -the contact they were waiting for. The roads were left free, and the -airports and spaceports were not checked. An invisible network of human -minds lay across the country, delicately tuned, waiting for the spark -of contact. - -Faircloth was asleep when the call finally came. He rolled groggily -out of bed, his heart racing, and groped for the visiphone screen. Ted -Marino's face materialized on the silvery curve; a frightened, shaking -Marino whose eyes were wide with horror, whose hands jerked nervously -as he unsuccessfully tried to control them. His voice was on the thin -edge of hysteria. "He hit me, Paul. Just a little while ago." - -Paul leaned forward, staring at the pale form in the screen. "Ted, are -you hurt?" - -"No, no. But oh, god!" - -"It couldn't have been just another Psi-High contacting you? It's -deadly important, Ted--" - -Marino shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no. It _couldn't_ have been. -I've been in Psi-High contact enough to know what it's like. This was -different. It was like he'd lifted off my skull and scooped out my -brains." - -Faircloth lit a smoke, trembling. "Did you try to fight it?" - -The man nodded. "I tried. He was clear in before I knew what had -happened, but I tried. I--I think it puzzled him. It didn't do any good -at all. He just brushed it aside." - -"Ted," said Faircloth. "Now listen. Forget about it. Don't write up a -report. Don't even think about it. As far as you're concerned, the job -is over. Get dressed, and travel south--down to Florida, Rio, any old -place, it doesn't matter where, just go. Use an expense account and -have yourself the time of your life." - -Marino's eyes opened in amazement. "Are you crazy? I thought this was -what--" - -"It is. Do what I say and don't worry about it. You're finished on this -job. When you've gotten a good rest come back to the Hoffman Center -and take up your training with Dr. Abrams where you left off." Paul -flipped the switch and turned back to the room, his heart pounding a -staccato cadence in his throat. He grinned triumphantly and began to -pack his bag. - -The chase was on, but this time, the mouse was chasing the cat. - - - VI - -As if a dam had broken, the reports began streaming in. Three more -came from Chicago. Then a call came from Cleveland, from a Psi-High -technician there who was not remotely connected with the Federal -Security Commission. Then from Pittsburgh, then New Philadelphia. Like -a fearful, ominous flood the reports of the Alien's contacts swarmed -in. And Paul Faircloth and Jean Sanders were ready for them. - -Their headquarters was a small suite of rooms in a middle class -residential hotel in the heavily populated metropolitan area between -Washington and Baltimore. Few of the Federal Security agents, Psi-High -or otherwise, knew this. They knew only a visiphone priority code -number, and a special word-key for scrambling. This was as Faircloth -insisted. Of all the agents posted and assigned, only Paul, Jean, and -Roberts knew the true nature of the operation, and each of them worked -out their own illogical details without telling the others. - -The wisdom of such a procedure was graphically illustrated a dozen -times over for the Alien at work was thorough. An operative in -Pittsburgh had attempted resistance to the Alien's telepathic -overtures, as instructed, and suffered a burst of wrath that had left -him blubbering in a corner for three days until a crew from Hoffman -Center straightened him out with a week's diet of amphetamine and -glucose. More and more, the Alien's puzzlement and frustration and -wrath began to seep through, and Paul and Jean watched the reports, and -nodded approvingly. Three times, when they were sure that the Alien -had left a locality, they ordered cleanup squads to make raids on his -former quarters, quizzing the inhabitants and neighbors, asking a -multitude of idiotic questions, uncovering a half a dozen descriptions -and leads which they assiduously ignored. Then they began stabbing -erratically at locations where the Alien had _not_ yet been, raids -which were carried out with a viciousness and singleness of mind that -left the unfortunates who were questioned quaking in their boots. On -these raids, even the agents themselves were confused as to their -purpose. - -And there were other tactics, a myriad of disjointed, unconnected, -abortive, harassing procedures, as though the whole search had suddenly -fallen into the hands of a madman. A rocketship bound for Venus was -delayed four days beyond an opposition, adding a half-million dollars -to the cost of fueling it. A whole series of road blocks were thrown -up between New York and New Philadelphia, virtually paralyzing the -commercial traffic between the cities for two days. Quite suddenly, -the order went out to close down on all passengers in the great St. -Louis-New York rolling roads, and Robert Roberts put in a grueling week -soothing the ruffled feelings of the businessmen who had been held up -and the companies whose products had spoiled when the swift-moving -strips had ground to a halt. - -The news that there _was_ an Alien from the stars at large, that -Federal Security was waging a vast underground battle to capture him, -was no longer a deep secret. The tension mounted daily. - -And bit by bit, carefully sifted bits of information were dropped into -the minds of the Psi-Highs who were still in the Alien's path. Long -hours were spent in the headquarters suite planning the pattern to be -used. But in the end it was a pattern well chosen and worth the effort -because it was soon evident that the Alien was heading for the great -metropolitan area which surrounded the nation's capitol. - -No attempt was made to contact him. It had been entirely passive. The -Alien's overtures had received no response other than futile attempts -at shielding; no analyses of his contacts were attempted, and this -knowledge was planted so that the Alien was sure to learn it. Warnings -of traps were planted in his path, "secret" knowledge of closing -dragnets and carefully devised Psi-High weapons to be used against -him; occasionally such warnings were followed by abortive raids, either -too early or too late to meet him, lead by psi-negative Security men -who had no more idea what they were doing than the man in the moon. But -one by one, key facts were planted, pointing always in one direction, -aimed at one man, and always the Alien moved toward the city. - - * * * * * - -Paul Faircloth and Jean Sanders seldom left their headquarters. Their -job was to keep the pattern moving, and to plan out their individual -parts quite separate from each other. It was terrifically wearing. As -the tension mounted, both of them grew more haggard. Paul had not found -time to shave in a week, and there were dark circles under the girl's -eyes. Much of the time she just sat, tense, listening, waiting. Other -times she helped him work as he fed data into the teletype and tape -readers which had been set up in their quarters. But even amid the -tension and exhaustion of the work neither of them could forget the -simple, awful fact that Paul Faircloth had been exposed as a Psi-High, -and that somehow, they would have to rearrange all that the future had -held for them both. - -Each morning they spread the reports out on the table before them. -"Closer," Paul said one day. "And it's on his own volition. He hasn't -been pushed. On the contrary, he's been left quite out in the cold. And -he doesn't like it." - -The girl nodded and glanced at the papers. "And he's definitely trying -to ask questions. Karns' call last night showed that better than any -other. And of course Karns didn't know any answers." - -Faircloth nodded. "None of them know the answers. That's the beauty of -it. Try as he will, he doesn't get anywhere." - -"Not yet." The girl rose, walking across the room. "Paul, I'm afraid. -We're shooting in the dark. We don't know what we're fighting against." - -"Are you sorry you're in on it?" - -"Oh, no!" She turned around, her face stricken. "I'd never want you -to think that, never." His mind was suddenly filled with shadows, -impressions struggling to get through, impressions that would make the -use of words ridiculous. "Oh, Paul, I'm afraid! For you, for both of -us. If anything should happen--" - -"Nothing's going to happen, darling--" - -"But what about _us_? If something goes wrong. Roberts knows about you." - -Paul's eyes could not meet hers. "It was bound to be found out -sometime. I'd rather Roberts knew than Ben Towne." - -The girl's eyes were wide with fright. "But we shouldn't be together! -Oh, Paul, how did he find out? Why did anyone have to find out?" -And then she was sobbing in his arms, and he held her close, trying -to comfort her as her body shook against his chest. "Jeannie," he -murmured. "Please, darling, don't--" - -"But it's so unfair! Why shouldn't I be allowed to marry you if I want -to?" - -"You know why, darling! It's the law. We tried to fight it but the -people are afraid of us. There's nothing we can do about it. They -passed the law, and they think it's right." - -"Ben Towne thinks it's right!" she burst out scornfully. Her tears were -hot on his cheek. - -"Towne backed it to the hilt, I know. But people are afraid of a man -carrying a single psi-positive gene, like you and me. What would they -do if they doubled? How could we tell what our children would be like? -Look, darling, think! You're just getting a grip on your faculties now. -You're learning how to use your psi-powers, and look what you're doing! -You can almost get through to me, and I've had no formal training at -all, I've been underground, just training myself as best I could. -You're nearly top-grade, Dr. Abrams says you'll have almost complete -control in five years, and I could too, with the proper training. What -would our children be like with the factor on both sides?" - -"Well, what would be wrong with it?" The girl was fighting back the -tears. "Are we such monsters? Have we done things so terrible that we -have to be caged like animals and kept under control like criminals?" - -Paul shook his head. "People only know what they hear. Ben Towne has -been a terrible, vicious enemy, and enough people believe him to give -him tremendous power. The people are nervous, and fearful, and there's -nothing we can do about it." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket -and dabbed at her face with it. "We've got a job to do, Jeannie. It -might be the most important thing that Psi-Highs have ever tried to do. -We can't flop on this job." - -"But Towne will just turn it against us--" - -"Not if we work it right. And I've got a hunch that we're working it -right." - - - VII - -The visiphone buzzed shrilly that afternoon, and Roberts' worried face -appeared in the screen. "Paul," he said sharply. "There are some bad -rumors around. I think something's up." - -Paul cursed. "What kind of rumors?" - -"All kinds," said Roberts sourly. "They're saying the hunt for the -Alien is a fraud, that nobody is doing anything at all about it. There -were a couple of out-and-out charges that Psi-Highs are teaming up with -the Alien to make an attack on the government--" - -"My god, can't somebody put the lid on that man?" - -"That wasn't Towne's work. It was some other Federal Isolationist -Senator on one of the propaganda programs the Normal Supremacy party -has on TV. There's talk that the Civil Rights bloc in the Liberal -Council is getting ready to switch to the American Council side and -force a Presidential election. And that could put Towne in the White -House. He's getting ready to move, Paul. We haven't got very long. The -word has been sneaking out all over. Towne is behind it, of course, -but he's smooth; oh, he's smooth. Congress hasn't been joined into two -solid political parties for two hundred years, but they're doing it -now, and it'll be a bloody battle. If Towne can get the Civil Rights -bloc to switch to his Council he's got the Senate in the palm of his -hand." - -"Who's the leader of the Civil Rights men?" Faircloth's voice was sharp. - -"That's just the thing. It has been Mike Veriday. His brother's a -Psi-High. But his stock has taken an awful nosedive since this rumor -campaign started. The polls have got him trailing Kingsley from -Kentucky by three per cent, losing ground fast. Now Kingsley, it -seems, is in some mean financial trouble that Towne got him into, and -Towne is ready to clear him of some nasty charges if he plays along--" -He paused for a long moment. "We haven't got much time, Paul." - -"Well, I hope we don't need much. But I think you can call in as many -of our men as you need to. If things get too hot for you, list Jean -and myself as missing, and throw out a dragnet for us. Because I think -we'll be very much outside the law in another day or so." - -Roberts blinked at him. "Better tell me what you're planning, Paul." - -"Don't worry what I'm planning. The less you know about it the better. -Just one thing, though. You remember Eagle Rock? The place we built up -on Timagami when we were in college? Put three men at a number where -I can reach them, and give them the location of Eagle Rock. Then tell -them to stand by with a fast jet scooter. Got that? And don't let -_this_ leak, no matter what happens." - -"I wish you'd tell me--" - -"We're fighting for our lives, now, Bob. And for every Psi-High in the -country. I won't tell you." - -Roberts nodded, and doused his cigar. "Eagle Rock," he said. "You can -count on it." - -Paul flipped the set off and sank back to wait for the Alien to make -contact. - - * * * * * - -He struck at ten o'clock that evening, with a ferocity beyond their -wildest expectations. - -They had known that he was near. The reports had come in, and they had -plotted and calculated his pathway, and waited. It was only a matter of -time, and the carefully planted information built a tangled, devious -circle with a single Psi-High individual in the center. - -Jean Sanders. - -It had to be Jean. Paul hated it. He wished it could be him, that he -could somehow protect her, but Jean Sanders was the only possible -person to bait the trap. Her psi-powers had been developed carefully -and painstakingly for years under the care of Dr. Reuben Abrams and -his staff at the Hoffman Medical Center. A Psi-High individual was -helpless to use his powers without training. Just as a child was -trained through long, gruelling years to use the mental faculties -of thought, and perception, and logic, a psi-positive mind required -training to control its powers of perception and physical control, if -its powers were ever to be used. - -Paul knew that all too well. He had the psi-positive factor, too. He -had not realized, in his teens, when he had plagued and baited the two -Psi-High boys in his high school class, that there might be a time -factor in psi-positive developement. Other Psi-Highs showed the signs -of abnormal sensory apparatus at the age of one, or three, or seven. -The schools caught them, tested them, registered them and sent them -out into a life of fear and suspicion and hatred. They were considered -freaks, the more dangerous because there was no physical identification -that could be used to separate them from ordinary human beings. - -And certain men had seen the great power that stood waiting for the man -who took advantage of the people's fears. Ambition is blinding; certain -men could see the danger to the comfortable, careless wielding of power -if Psi-High minds were to work their way into government. But minds, -like Paul Faircloth's mind, matured at different ages, and at different -times. And some slipped through the barrage of testing, undetected, -only to discover later that it was not the backs of the cards they were -reading, but the mind of their opponent that held the cards. - -The faculty was feeble in people like Paul. He could not read minds. -He could not sort and integrate the confused tendrils of conscious and -unconscious thought that broke like an endless stream from a human -mind; he could not separate the reality of here-and-now thinking from -the strands of fantasy, and memory, and supposition, and frustration, -and desire, and half-understanding, and confusion that lay beneath the -surface of those minds. He could detect falsehood and he could feel -suspicion; he could sense love as he had never felt it before, and he -could feel himself gripped in the helpless frustration of pity; he -could savor excitement with a thousand tingling nerves, and he could -sense the blackest depths of despair, but he could not sort them out to -make a coherent picture of the thoughts streaming from a human mind. It -took a lifetime of training of a Psi-High mind to do that. - -But Jean Sanders could. That was why she was waiting in the room with -him when the Alien struck. - -She was walking across the room when it happened. She stiffened, -screamed, and even Paul's untrained mind caught the impact of the wave -of fear and revulsion that swept from her mind. She sank to the floor, -and Paul stood by, watching helplessly as she twisted and writhed in -the blind agony of the powerful invasion. "Please," she choked, white -faced. "Get me a pillow. Then--then listen--" - -"Don't fight him," Paul whispered. "Let him in. Let him clear in. And -then jump on him for all you're worth. Dig, dig deep--" - -Her eyes became huge, like the eyes of an animal, frightened beyond -hope, cornered, attacked and helpless to fight back. Her neck strained -back, and her teeth clenched. The blood drained from her face as she -began moaning. "I can't, Paul--" she cried, "I--I can't get in--" - -"You've got to--" Frantically Paul tried to thrust out with his mind, -tried to dig through the wall of immense power that was present in the -room. The Alien was close, very close, and the presence of his mind was -overwhelming. Paul tried to break through, and then suddenly he felt a -pang of white heat sear through his brain, driving him back, a sharp, -savage stroke that doubled him up, clasping his hands helplessly to his -ears as he fell and writhed on the floor in pain. And then suddenly it -was gone as swiftly as it had come. He lay panting for a moment. Then -he managed to crawl across the room to Jean. He sank his head to her -chest, heard the slow pounding of her heart. He shook her, gently; her -eyes flickered open, her face filled with horror and loathing. "Oh, -Paul, I got--I got so little--" - -"What did you get, darling?" - -"Nothing. A picture or two, nothing more. Oh, he was so strong, I -couldn't make a dent--" - -"What pictures?" - -She sat up, her breath coming in gasps. "Nothing definite. Ben -Towne--yes, there was something about him--just the flash of a mental -picture, no rationality connected with it. And some papers, some sort -of file--" She clasped her hands to her head. "He--he stripped me -clean! I can't--" - -"Jeannie! There must have been something else--" - -She looked up at him, a strange light in her eyes. "I don't understand -it," she whispered. "There was a picture of a farm--yes, a farm, and a -dog, and blood on a pair of pants--" - -Paul sat back, staring at her stupidly. And then, suddenly, a light -flashed on in his mind, a flash so incredible that he hardly dared -think of it. In an instant he was on his feet, the blood pounding in -his throat. He began throwing clothes into a bag as the girl sat there, -watching him dully, in growing alarm. "Stay here," he said. "I'll call -you--" - -"Paul--where--" - -"It's my show, now, darling. Wait, rest, you'll be all right. Rest, and -say a prayer or two. Because I've got this Alien nailed for sure this -time." - - * * * * * - -It was incredibly dangerous and utterly necessary. Paul found a -visiphone booth in the rear of a station where there were few people, -and quickly threw an adapter across the camera, and spun a roll of -film in. The film started when the party at the other end flipped on -the switch. The conversation was brief. Paul gave the address of a -roof-garden apartment in Central Washington, and then disconnected. -After removing the film, he reconnected with a number he had given -Roberts a few hours before. Ted Marino's face appeared, and Paul heaved -a sigh of relief. "How many men do you have, Ted?" - -"Two." - -"All Psi-High?" - -"Certainly." - -Paul nodded. "All right, we're beyond the law from now on, Ted. If you -or any of the rest want out, take off." - -Marino's dark eyes sparkled. "Roberts said this is the kill," he said. - -"It's not the kill you think. But it's a kill, all right. Take the men -to this address." He gave the roof-garden number. "Have a jet scooter -there, and see that nobody spots it. Use Security insignia. Send out a -bleeper if anything goes wrong. I'll be there." - -He rang off, and moments later was rising high above the city in his -own scooter. In ten minutes he had reached the roof-garden, and settled -the little ship down gently on its gyros. He walked inside and sat down -in the darkness, and waited. - -He heard another jet scooter land. Marino walked in with two other -men Paul remembered vaguely. He nodded to them, and they also sat -down. Paul fingered the shocker in his pocket, his nerves screaming a -thousand warnings in his ears. - -The guard robot on the ground floor bleeped sharply. Paul reached for -the lock-release switch, and heard the elevator start to whine. He -unlocked the door and left it ajar, then motioned to one of the men. -"Cover the hallway, and back them up when they come. Don't be surprised -at who it is." - -The man disappeared down the hall. Paul sat quietly, and then heard the -elevator open. There were footsteps, and a tapping sound. The footsteps -stopped at the door. - -"Come on in," he called sharply. "Bob'll be with you in just a minute." - -The door swung open and Senatorial Councilman Ben Towne walked into the -room, followed by two tight-faced men. One of the men had a hand in his -jacket pocket. Towne blinked at Faircloth, and his grin began to fade -into alarm. "Who in the hell are you?" - -"One of Roberts' men." - -"Roberts said you had the Alien," Towne snarled. His green eyes peered -around the room. - -Marino swung on the man to the right, bringing him down with a blow to -the temple. Paul slapped Towne's cane to the floor, and pounced on the -other guard like a cat. The Councilman staggered against the door jamb, -trying desperately to reach his cane. Moments later the guards were -helpless, and Paul and Marino dragged Towne out to the middle of the -room. "The files," Paul said sharply. "Where do you keep them?" - -Towne's breath came heavily. "You damned snakes can't get away with -this--" - -"The files, Councilman." - -His eyes went around the room fearfully. "The boys know where they -are," he said finally, his voice so low it was hardly audible. - -"Any duplicates?" - -"Not of the files you want." - -Paul nodded to the two men. "Take them down and get the files. Then -turn the men and files over to Roberts. Tell him to see that the men -forget all about this." He turned back to Towne. "You're taking a -little ride." - -"When this hits the papers it'll be the end of the road for you -freaks," Towne snarled. "You can't stop it now--" - -"We'll see," said Faircloth. "Now shut up and get moving." - -They left the cane in the room. Paul helped Marino load him aboard the -jet scooter. "Take him up to Eagle Rock. Keep him there. Dismantle -the engine, if you have to, to keep him there. I'll be there in a few -hours." - -Marino nodded. "Should I report to Roberts?" - -"Don't bother. Roberts would have a stroke. I brought Towne over here -on a dummy visiphone film of Roberts, which will put him in enough hot -water as it is." - -"And where are you going?" - -"I'm taking a plane west. I've got a visit to make. I've got to see a -man about a dog." - - - VIII - -The farmer blinked across the table at him, red eyed and fearful. -"I don't know what you want," he was saying. His voice was high and -querulous. "I didn't ask no trouble of the Federal Men. They asked me -all them questions, and I told them--" - -"That's all right," said Faircloth. "We're just rechecking. You were -the first party the Alien contacted as far as we can tell. The ship -landed on your property, didn't it?" - -The farmer nodded. "Over by the river. Scrub oak and elms standing over -there on the bluff. Haven't never cleared it because it'd be too rocky -to farm." - -"All right, all right," said Faircloth sharply. "I want you to tell me -what happened that night." - -The farmer's eyes flitted to Faircloth's face and back down to the -table. "I already told you twenty times. Why do you pick on me?" he -whined. "I couldn't help it he happened to stop here. Heard him on the -porch about ten o'clock at night--I was just gettin' ready for bed. -And he said he was travelin' and wanted something to eat. We don't see -strangers around here very often, Mister--" he looked up at Faircloth -fearfully. "I--I looked at him, and he looked all right to me. My eyes -were tired, like I said. I couldn't see him too well, but he came in, -and ate, and I offered to bed him for the night. He said no, he had to -make on for Des Moines." - -Faircloth watched the man's eyes. "Details, Mr. Bettendorf. You've -left some out along the line, haven't you? I have a report here that -was filed by our field team that talked to you." He pulled out a sheaf -of papers in the dim kitchen light. "Says something about your dog -barking." - -The farmer's face went white. "There anything wrong with that? I reckon -the dog did bark. I don't remember." - -"And you went to open the door, and the stranger was there, eh?" - -The farmer nodded his head eagerly. "I told you everything--" - -"And you brought him in and fed him and then sent him on his way?" - -"That's right, that's what I done." - -"You're a liar," said Faircloth. He eyed the man coldly. "Try the story -over again. Once more now." - -The farmer jolted to his feet, his eyes feverish. "I done just like I -told you. I didn't tell no lie. I heard the dog yelping--" - -"And you opened the door and there was a stranger there." Faircloth's -voice was sharp. "Then what happened? Step by step. Minute by minute. I -mean it, mister, I want the truth." - -"I--I looked at him--" - -"What light did you have?" - -"This here same light. Not very much--" - -"And what did he say?" - -"He said, 'I'm a traveler and I'd like something to eat.'" - -"And what did his voice sound like?" - -The farmer faltered. "It was funny--like gravel in a tin can. A funny -kind of voice." - -"And where was the dog all this time?" - -The farmer blanched, "He--he done stayed outside. He saw it was all -right." - -"Where's the dog now?" - -"I sold him. I mean he ran away. You can't keep a dog forever, Mister." - -Faircloth's face was very near the old man's. "The stranger was out on -the porch and you talked to him and let him come in. And then what did -you do?" - -"I--he sat down at the table, I think--I--I--" - -"You went over to get some food from the stove, didn't you?" - -"Yes, yes, that's right." - -"And then you saw blood on his pants, didn't you? And you remembered -hearing your dog give a yelp out in the yard, didn't you? The stranger -had blood all over his pants and boots, didn't he?" - -The farmer's eyes were wide with fear. He was shaking his head -helplessly. "No--no--" - -"And so you picked up your gun and you shot him, didn't you?" - -And then the old man's face was in his hands, bending over the table, -crying like a baby--huge, fearful sobs racking his boney shoulders. "He -killed my dog," he choked between sobs. "He killed old Brownie, gave -him a kick that split his head open. He didn't have to do that to poor -old Brownie. I knew he was a bad one when he did that. I shot him. Yes, -I did." - - * * * * * - -The news broke to the nation that night, and the country went into -a panic unequalled since the days of the Great Cold War. Paul -Faircloth spent an hour on the visiphone from Des Moines talking to -Robert Roberts, going over the whole business from beginning to end. -The Security chief chain-smoked three cigars for the first time in -his life. Finally Roberts put a line through to the Speaker of the -Joint Senatorial Councils. Half an hour later, while Faircloth was -making his way by jet back to Washington, Roberts was in top-secret -conference with the Senate Council Leaders, and then with the President -himself. And then the news broke. It was an official White House News -conference, and it had been dismissed barely three minutes when the -radios and TVs were carrying the casts of the announcement. - -Faircloth brought his plane down at Eisenhower Field, and saw the crowd -swarming across the landing strip before he got to the ground. A dozen -flashbulbs popped, and before he could get into the Security limousine -waiting for him, he was in the middle of a tight circle of reporters. - -"How long has the Alien been at large, Mr. Faircloth?" one of them -asked. - -"Sorry. The chief will have to answer that." - -"Is there any doubt that he's telepathic?" - -"No doubt whatsoever. I know that from personal experience. It's the -only way he could move freely in the population." - -"How was he first detected?" - -Paul smiled to himself. "The President gave you that information, -didn't he? A Psi-High citizen spotted him in Des Moines. The Psi-Highs -have been on his trail ever since." - -One of the reporters was tugging at his arm. "There's been a lot of -talk about some kind of--well, liason between the Alien invader and the -Psi-Highs in this country." - -Paul frowned. "If that were true, would we be working twenty-four -hours a day to trap him? Use your head, man. There've been a lot of -unfortunate rumors, I'm afraid. But I can speak for the Psi-Highs, and -I think Commissioner Roberts will back me up on this--the Alien is -menacing our very civilization. He's struck at one of our most beloved -public servants in an attempt to undermine the government and prepare -our planet for a full scale invasion. There isn't a Psi-High citizen -in the country who will rest until the monster is caught, and until -Councilman Towne has been returned safely to Washington." - -"But what about Towne's anti-Psi legislation? He's always hated -Psi-Highs." - -"Nonsense. Towne has been a loyal servant of the North American people. -He's fought for what he thought was right, and has exposed himself to -great dangers and personal vilification to do it. If he hasn't fully -understood the Psi-Highs' side of things, that's not a matter for us to -be vindictive about." He looked around the circle soberly. "The fact -remains that he's in the hands of a dangerous enemy, and it's our job -to save him if it can possibly be done." He nodded, and stepped into -the Security limousine. It honked its way through the crowd, and then -dipped down into the government tunnel that led to capitol hill and -Central Washington. - -He picked up a paper inside the car, and peered at it eagerly. The -full-color picture of the President's grave face stared out at him in -tri-di, and on either side pictures of Roberts and Towne. It was an old -picture of Towne, a flattering picture. Paul grinned as he read the -story rapidly: - - - COUNCILMAN TOWNE KIDNAPPED FROM SECRET MEETING - - President Reveals Alien Telepath at Large - - The President of the North American States revealed tonight in a - special press conference that Councilman Benjamin Towne (Federal - Isolationist, American Council) was kidnapped from a secret meeting - with Federal Security agents last night in what was described as - the first step in a plan for large-scale invasion of Earth by an - Alien race from another planet. The President reported that one - Alien, believed to be fully telepathic, has been at large in the - country since his landing near Gutenberg, Iowa, last May 26th. - - The Alien's presence was first detected by a loyal Psi-High citizen - of Des Moines and was reported immediately to the Federal Security - Commission. Robert R. Roberts, Chief of the FSC, has been active in - directing a nationwide dragnet to capture the Alien. - - Councilman Towne left his home last night at 11:00 P.M. in response - to a call ostensibly from Commissioner Roberts. It is believed that - the call was forged by the use of a dummy-film, and the Councilman - was reported missing when he did not return home. The two attachés - who accompanied him apparently have suffered severely from the - encounter with the Alien's telepathic powers, and were unable to be - questioned at the Hoffman Medical Center this morning. - - The President made special note of the excellent and selfless work - of certain Psi-High citizens during the past months, in the course - of a manhunt that has been shrouded in secrecy. The Alien's - telepathic powers invariably overcame the efforts of psi-negative - individuals, but through the efforts of the Psi-Highs, Commissioner - Roberts has expressed every hope of ending the search within days - and securing Councilman Towne's release. - -Faircloth flipped the page, glancing at the smaller headlines. An -interview with Dr. Abrams reporting the training program for Psi-Highs -in progress at the Hoffman Center; a long article, discussing the value -of Psi-High powers in combatting a ruthless telepathic alien force; -an article by Roberts, very carefully worded, explaining that if one -telepathic Alien had come to Earth, others could be expected. Roberts -expressed the opinion that human psi-positives were the nation's -strongest safeguard against such an invasion. - -Faircloth carefully folded the paper and spoke to the driver of the -limousine. The huge car rose at the next tunnel exit, and sped north -along the surface, then rose again. Paul waited, impatiently, and then -stepped out of the car at the given address. Five minutes later he was -holding Jean Sanders in his arms, while Robert Roberts sat chewing a -cigar at the far side of the room, looking vastly pleased with himself. - - - IX - -"It was handled beautifully," Faircloth was saying. "The timing was -perfect, and there's no question but that it will go across." He looked -up at Jean. "You're sure you got everything across to him when he -contacted you again?" - -She nodded. Her face was still pale. "He turned me inside out. Cleaned -out everything I knew. I didn't resist. And then when we'd heard from -you he contacted me again, and I knew that we were right. He's been in -touch with me ever since. He'll be here soon." - -Faircloth nodded to Roberts. "And you've arranged for the raids to -start up through New England?" - -Roberts nodded. He looked slightly high. "Everything's under control. -Marino has a ship ready for takeoff, and we have guns up near Eagle -Rock to blast it down. Ain't many people around in northern Ontario. -The pictures will be rather bad, probably, but after all--field -conditions, you know. - -"It will certainly look like the same sort of ship that landed out in -Iowa, and there won't be enough left when the blasting is over to tell -for sure whether the mangled mess that they drag out of it later is -man, Alien or oily rags. Those guns do a good job." - -Something touched Faircloth's mind, lightly, like a quiet knock. He -swung around, his eyes wide. "He's here," he said, and then he saw that -Jean already knew. "Tell him to come up." - -She nodded, and closed her eyes. Moments later they heard the footsteps -on the stairs, hesitant footsteps. Then the door swung open. They -stared at him for a moment, and then both men were wringing the man's -hand, offering him a glass, and he sank down on the cot they had -prepared for him, exhausted. "You must be dead," Paul said quietly. - -"I am, I am," said the man. "Mind if I lie down?" - -He was an ordinary looking man. He was slender, about thirty, and -very pale. A single-factor Psi-High had no distinguishing physical -characteristics; there really was no reason to expect a double-factor -psi-positive to look any different. But somehow they had half expected -a god-like creature, and he just looked like a frightened young man. - -His face was mild and rather sad. But his eyes were clear and sharp, -and the mouth was in a grim line, as he sank back on the couch. "I was -afraid you'd never spot it," he said. "For a while it looked as though -the whole thing would backfire. I mean when Towne was planning the -shift in the Council and trying to force an election. I was afraid--and -in the midst of that, you started your cat-and-mouse game--" - -Faircloth nodded. "We had no choice. We didn't know, and you didn't -dare reveal what you were doing at that point." - -The man shook his head. "It was better this way, much better. I planned -to kill Towne and then let you capture me. Counting on you to work -the propaganda right. Then nobody would have known that the Alien was -killed before he even got started." - -Faircloth smiled. "The computer even listed that as a possibility. Low -probability, but that was on the basis of what we knew. We hadn't even -considered it--yet every living Psi-High has known for a long time that -someday two Psi-Highs would have a child. We could only guess what the -child might be like." - -The man looked up at them sadly. "The child would be lonely beyond -words," he said. "He would be able to hide, yes. He would be able to -slow down his psi-powers in order to appear like an ordinary Psi-High. -He could never have revealed it. Not even to his closest friends." - -"And you knew that the real Alien had been killed?" - -"Almost as soon as it happened. He died in agony. He had a powerful -mind. He broadcast so wildly that every Psi-High within a hundred miles -must have gotten a shower. I was in Des Moines, and got the whole -picture clear as a bell. Went down and picked the details out of the -farmer's brain. He was too frightened to tell what he had done, and -nobody paid too much attention to him anyway." He shifted wearily on -the cot. "The Alien must have been working so hard to maintain his -disguise that the farmer caught him short. I knew it, and I knew what I -had to do. I went ahead and did it." - -"Of course Towne will fight," said Roberts later, when the man had -drifted off into a deep sleep. "He's clever, and resourceful. When -we 'rescue' him from Eagle Rock, he's going to know exactly what has -happened." - -Jean Sanders laughed happily. "I'd like to see him," she said. "I'd -like to see him helpless just once." - -Paul grinned. "You will. Things will be too far ahead of him by then. -And of course, there will be a physical and mental examination. It -will be a pity that the Alien left his mind in such a state of shock -and delusion but maybe after a few months of psychiatric treatment we -can find out the real reason why he hates Psi-Highs so much. And then, -perhaps, we'll have a powerful fighter on our side instead of against -us." - -He looked around at the others, his face grave. "We can't afford -to have the world against us again, not ever. _That_ part of the -news broadcast was perfectly true. There _was_ an Alien. He _was_ -telepathic. And there will be others coming--maybe in a year, maybe in -five, or ten, or a hundred--" He leaned back wearily in the relaxer. -"We cashed in on it, this time, but we mustn't forget the parts that -are true." - -Jean smiled and put her arm around him. "They'll come, sometime--yes. -But when they come they'll find the Earth well guarded." Her eyes -drifted to the sleeping figure on the cot, and then came back to Paul's -and held them. "When they do come, there'll be others--like him--to -stop them." - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRAIN SINNER *** - -***** This file should be named 63759-0.txt or 63759-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/7/5/63759/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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Nourse - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Brain Sinner - -Author: Alan E. Nourse - -Release Date: November 14, 2020 [EBook #63759] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRAIN SINNER *** -</pre> -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>THE BRAIN SINNER</h1> - -<h2>By ALAN E. NOURSE</h2> - -<p><i>An invisible network of human minds<br /> -lay across the country, delicately tuned,<br /> -waiting breathlessly for the first spark<br /> -of contact from the unknown ... from<br /> -the unpredictable telepathic Alien.</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Spring 1955.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The ship skimmed down like a shadow from the outer atmosphere and -settled gently and silently in the tangled underbrush of the hill that -overlooked the bend in the broad river. There was a hiss of scorched -leaves, and the piping of a small, trapped animal. Then there was -silence.</p> - -<p>Higher up, the sunlight was bright over the horizon; here the shadows -had lengthened and it was quite dark. Far across the hills a dog -howled mournfully; night birds made small rustling sounds through the -scrub and underbrush. The alien waited, tensely, listening, waiting -with his mind open for any flicker of surprise or wonder, waiting for -a whisper of fear or recognition to slip into his mind from the dark -hills around the ship. He waited and waited.</p> - -<p>Then he gave a satisfied grunt. Foolish of him to worry. All possible -care had been taken to avoid any kind of alarm. He had landed unseen -from Io.</p> - -<p>The alien stretched back against the couch, allowing his long, tight -muscles to relax, as he sent inquiring feelers of thought out from the -ship, probing gently and tentatively, for signs of the psi-presence. -The landing, after all, had been assumed. Already the natives had -convinced themselves that ships such as his were a delusion. Such -simple creatures, to disregard the evidence of their own senses! There -should be no problem here when the invasion began, with the preliminary -studies already completed, the disguising techniques almost perfected. -A primitive world, indeed, but a world with psi-presence already -developing—a possible flaw in the forthcoming silent conquest.</p> - -<p>For psi-presence could detect other psi-presence, always, anywhere, -despite any disguise. The alien knew that. It was the one universal -denominator in all the centuries of conquest and enslavement in his -people's history. Before they could come, they must know the strength -of the psi-presence on this world.</p> - -<p>The alien moved, finally, beginning his preparations. In the center -of the cabin an image flickered, swarming flecks of light and shadow -that filled out a three-dimensional form, complete and detailed. The -alien sat back and studied it through hooded yellow eyes—carefully, -oh so carefully, for there must be no mistake, not here, not now. The -scouts had come and gone, bringing back the data and specimens of -the man-things necessary for a satisfactory disguise. Now the alien -stared at the image, regarding the bone structure and muscle contour -critically. Then, slowly, he began work with the plastiflesh, modelling -the sharp angles of his members into neat curves, skillfully laying -folds of skin, molding muscle bulges and jointed fingers, always -studying the strange, clumsy image that flickered before him.</p> - -<p>It was the image of a man. That was what they called themselves. There -were many of them, and somewhere among them there was psi-presence, -feeble and underdeveloped, but there somewhere. He eyed the image -again, and pressed a stud on the control panel, and another image -met his eyes, an electronic reflection of himself. He studied it, and -carefully superimposed the two, adding contour here and there, yellow -eyes seeking out imperfections as he worked.</p> - -<p>There must be no mistake. Failure would mean disgrace and death, -horrible, writhing death by dissociation and burning, neuron by -neuron. He knew. He had officiated at executions before; delightful -experiences, but not to be trifled with. He stared at the image again -and then at himself.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The skin tone was wrong. The yellow came through too clearly in -places, and in this strange culture that color was reported to carry -unpleasant connotations. He worked pale, sickly-pink stuff into his -soft, wrinkle-free skin, then molded out the cheeks and forehead. Hair -would be a problem, of course, but then there would be many small -imperfections. He smiled grimly to himself. There were other ways of -masking imperfections.</p> - -<p>At last he was satisfied. There was no way to bring the normal reddish -color into the pale green lips; there was no way to satisfactorily -prepare the myriad wrinkles and creases that crossed the skin of the -man-things, but with a little skillful application of projection -techniques it did not matter.</p> - -<p>The alien struggled into the tight, restricting clothes that lay in a -bundle, carefully folded and pressed, at his feet. The hard, board-like -shoes cut at his ankles, and the hairy stuff of the red-and-white -checked shirt made him writhe in discomfort, but once outside the -ship he was glad for the warmth. He stepped out onto the ground, and -listened again carefully. Then he made certain arrangements with wires, -and threw a switch on a small black case near the air lock, and began -marching down the hill away from the ship.</p> - -<p>He would no longer need the ship. Not now.</p> - -<p>The underbrush grew thicker, and he fought his way through the scrub -until he reached a roadway. It was not paved. A flicker of sour -amusement swept through the alien's mind. They had been afraid that -these simple creatures might try to oppose them! Yet the scouts had -said that far to the East were great stone and steel cities—the -places-of-madness, the scout had said. Perhaps. But here there was no -stone and steel, only dust, and the ruts of wagon wheels, and a howling -dog somewhere over the hill.</p> - -<p>The alien trudged on for almost an hour, trying to acclimate his legs -to the fierce tug of gravity that pulled at him. And then he stopped -short and listened.</p> - -<p>He heard them, then, in the depths of his mind, somewhere on the other -side of the hill. His eyes narrowed. No psi-presence there, but two of -the man-things, beyond doubt. Other whispers, too dull, stupid, vagrant -whispers flickering through his mind. Lower life forms, no doubt. -Possibly a farm with work animals. The scouts had said there were such. -He turned off the road and almost cried out when the sharp barbs of a -fence cut through his tender skin.</p> - -<p>A trickle of green dripped down his arm, until he rubbed a poultice -across it, and it became smooth and sickly-pink again. With a vicious -jerk he pulled the fence out, post and all, and left it on the ground, -moving through the woods toward the sounds he had heard.</p> - -<p>Soon the woods ended and he saw the dwelling across a broad clearing. -Black dirt lay open in the moonlight. He started across. There was -light inside the dwelling, and the dull, babbling flow of uncontrolled -man-thought struck his mind like a vapor. There were other buildings, -too, dark buildings, and one tall one that had a spoked wheel on top, -and creaked and rustled in the darkness.</p> - -<p>He had almost reached the dwelling when a small, four-legged creature -jumped up in the darkness, crying out at him in a horrible discordant -barrage. The creature came running swiftly, and the alien's mind caught -the sharp whine of fear and hate emanating from the thing. It stopped -before him, baring its fangs and snarling.</p> - -<p>The alien lashed his foot out savagely; it crunched into flesh and -bone, and the creature lay flopping helplessly, spurting dark wet -stuff, its cry cut off in mid-yelp. The alien stepped onto the porch -as the door opened suddenly, framing a tall, thin man-thing in a box -of yellow light. "Brownie?" he called. "Come here, Brownie! What's the -matter—" His words trailed off when he saw the alien. "Who are you?"</p> - -<p>"A traveller," said the alien, his voice grating harshly in the -darkness. "I need lodging and food—"</p> - -<p>The farmer's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he peered from the doorway. -"Come closer, let me get a look at you," he said.</p> - -<p>The alien stepped closer, concentrating all his psi-faculties on the -farmer's mind, blurring his perception of the minute imperfections of -his disguise. It required all his power; he had none left to probe the -farmer's mind, and he waited, trembling. That could come later.</p> - -<p>The farmer blinked, and nodded, finally. "All right," he said. "We've -got some food on the stove. Come on in."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">II</p> - -<p>Senatorial Councilman Benjamin Towne slammed his cane down on the floor -with a snarl, and eased himself back down in his seat, staring angrily -around the small Federal Security Commission ante-room. The American -Council attaché standing near the door retrieved the cane, handing it -to the Councilman with a polite murmur. Instantly he regretted his -action when Towne began slapping the cane against his palm, short -staccato slaps that rang out ominously in the small room.</p> - -<p>The Councilman was not in the habit of waiting. He did not like it -in the least, and made no effort to conceal his feelings. His little -green cat eyes roved around the room in sharp disapproval, resting -momentarily on the neat autodesk, on the cool grey walls, on the -vaguely disturbing water-color on the wall—one of those sickening -Psi-High experimentals that the snob critics all claimed to be so -wonderful. The Councilman growled and blinked at the morning sunlight -streaming through the muted glass panels of the northeast wall. Far -below, the second morning rush hour traffic buzzed through the city -with frantic nervousness.</p> - -<p>The Councilman tapped his cane on the floor, glancing up at his -attaché. "That Sanders girl," he snapped. "Give me her file again."</p> - -<p>The Council attaché opened a large briefcase, and produced a thick -bundle of papers in a manilla folder. Towne took them and glanced -through the papers, lighting one of his long, green-tipped cigarettes -from a ruby-studded lighter. "How about Dr. Abrams? Was he questioned?"</p> - -<p>The attaché nodded in embarrassment. "Nothing doing. He ran us in -circles."</p> - -<p>Towne's scowl deepened. "Did you give him the Treatment?"</p> - -<p>"He just wasn't having any, sir. Said he'd answer to a Joint Council -hearing, and nothing less."</p> - -<p>"Stubborn old goat. He knows I've got nothing that will stand up in a -Council hearing." Towne went back to the papers again, still tapping -the floor with the cane. "<i>Damn</i> that Roberts!"</p> - -<p>The attaché glanced down at Benjamin Towne with some curiosity. -It was easy to see how the man drew such powerful support from -his constituents. There was something overwhelming about his -appearance—the heavy jaw and grim mouth line, the shock of sandy hair -that fell over his forehead, the burning green eyes, the stout, well -muscled body. The attaché's eyes drifted down to the withered left leg -and the grotesque twisted foot, and he looked away in embarrassment. -What was so awe-inspiring about a crippled man who accumulated great -power? Towne certainly had done that. Some said that Ben Towne was the -most powerful man in North America. Some also said that he was the -greatest man, but that was something quite different indeed. And some -said that he was the most dangerous man alive. The attaché shivered. -That was none of his business. If he went probing <i>that</i> line too far -they'd be calling him Psi-High, and he liked his job too much to risk -that.</p> - -<p>The inner door opened and a tall man with prematurely gray hair strode -in, followed by a girl in her early twenties. "Sorry to keep you, -Councilman," the man said. "No, no, don't get up. We can talk right -here."</p> - -<p>Towne had made no effort to rise. He glared at the man, and then his -eyes drifted to the girl and widened angrily. "I said a <i>private</i> -conference, Roberts. I don't want one of these damned brain-picking -snakes in the same room with me."</p> - -<p>The man nodded cooly to the girl. "Sit down, Jean. Councilman, this is -Jean Sanders. If you're here about the Alien investigation, I want her -to sit in."</p> - -<p>Ben Towne slowly set the papers down on the floor. "Record this, -Roger," he said to the attaché. His eyes turned to Roberts. "I -understand he slipped out of your hands again yesterday," he said with -vicious smoothness. "A pity."</p> - -<p>Roberts reddened. "That's right. He slipped out clean."</p> - -<p>"No pictures, no identifications, no nothing, eh?"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid not."</p> - -<p>Towne's voice was deadly. "Mr. Roberts, an unidentified Alien creature -has been at large in this country for three solid weeks, and your -Federal Security teams haven't even gotten near him. I want to know -why."</p> - -<p>"I'd suggest that if you read our reports—"</p> - -<p>"Damn you, man, I didn't come here for insolence!" Towne slammed the -cane down with a clatter. "You're answerable to the Joint Senatorial -Council of the North American States for every wretched thing you do, -and I'm ready to bring charges of criminal negligence against you in -this Alien investigation—"</p> - -<p>"<i>Criminal negligence!</i>" Roberts jumped up, his eyes blazing. "My god, -Councilman! We've thrown everything we have into this search. This -creature has played us for fools every step of the way! We didn't even -get a look at his ship. It blew up right in our faces! Do you realize -what we're fighting here?"</p> - -<p>"I realize quite well," said Towne, frostily. "You're fighting an -Alien who has slipped into our population, somehow, and just vanished. -There's no way to tell what he wants or what he's doing. The potential -danger of his presence is staggering. And you've fumbled and groaned -for three weeks without even turning up a hot trail. You haven't even a -coherent description of him—"</p> - -<p>"We're fighting a telepath," Roberts said softly. "An Alien with -telepathic powers like nothing we've ever dreamed of. That's what we're -fighting. And we're losing, too."</p> - -<p>The girl across the room stirred uneasily. Ben Towne's green eyes shot -over to her viciously. "And you're using freaks like her to help him -hide, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"Jean Sanders is not a freak." Roberts' voice grated in the still air -of the room. "She's Psi-High, and she's the most valuable asset we've -got in this search at the present moment. It's a real pity there aren't -more Psi-Highs that have had her training."</p> - -<p>"And you sit there and tell me you'd dare use Psi-Highs in an -investigation as critical as this?"</p> - -<p>Roberts sighed in disgust. "Councilman, you don't have any idea what -you're saying."</p> - -<p>"I beg to differ," Towne's eyes flashed. "I happen to be aware that -there are a group of individuals wandering around loose who will have -this country in chains in a hundred years if they're allowed to develop -as they please. Psi-Highs are a vicious menace, nothing more nor less. -We can't help it that we have them. The fools in the government were -blind two hundred years ago when they first started appearing, and -psi-factors are gene-controlled. But they can't use their extra-sensory -powers without training."</p> - -<p>He picked up the cane and leaned forward at Roberts. "Thanks to Reuben -Abram's meddling over at the Hoffman Center, some of them are already -developing their psi-faculties, learning to use a treacherous power -that has no place in civilized society. Well, <i>I don't want them -working in Security</i>! Is that clear enough?"</p> - -<p>Roberts sighed tiredly and leaned back in his chair. "You're confused -a little," he said. "This is not the Rotary Club. It's not a Federal -Isolationist rally, and it's not the Senate floor, either. It's just me -you're talking to. And to my knowledge, you haven't succeeded as yet -in removing all Psi-High rights. You've gotten laws through Congress -to make them take tests and submit to registration; you've passed laws -to prevent them from marrying; you've blocked their education and -hamstrung their training and developement, but you <i>haven't</i>, as yet, -been able to strip them of their citizenship—"</p> - -<p>"Not as yet," said Ben Towne.</p> - -<p>"And you can't, as yet, dictate the activities of the Federal Security -Commission."</p> - -<p>"Not as yet."</p> - -<p>Roberts' eyes blazed. "All right. Now you can listen to me for a -minute, Councilman, recording or no recording. We've got an enemy in -our midst—an Alien we've never even seen. We can thank a psi-positive -citizen out in Des Moines for spotting him in the first place. He had -the sense and the loyalty to report it to us. Normal psi-negative -individuals can't see him, can't identify him, can't even get near him. -We haven't tried Psi-High agents against him yet but we're going to -have to, whether you like it or not. Psi-negatives are strapped. The -Alien can run circles around them. Our only hope of catching him is -to use psi-positive agents, the best-trained we can get our hands on. -Like Jean, here. And if you want to stop me you'll have to reorganize -Federal Security to do it."</p> - -<p>Towne lurched to his feet, his face white. "I may do that, Roberts." He -reached for his cane. "I may just do that."</p> - -<p>"You'll have to throw the Liberal Council out of office first. They're -supporting me, and outvoting your American Council two to one."</p> - -<p>Towne gave him a shrewd look. "Better start watching the telecasts, and -newstapes," he said bluntly. "Already there are rumors going around -about a mysterious Alien fugitive. Oh, I know it's top secret, but -you know how news leaks." He gave a nasty smile. "People get nervous -about rumors like that, especially when the Administration denies -them so sharply. You'd better catch him pretty quick." He nodded to -his attaché, and limped to the door. Then he glanced back over his -shoulder. "Be sure to watch the telecasts," he said, and slammed the -door behind him.</p> - -<p>Jean Sanders stood up, white-faced and trembling. "What a vicious man," -she murmured. "What did he mean, Bob?"</p> - -<p>Robert Roberts shook his head, and fished a cigar from a desk drawer. -"I'm not sure that I know," he said slowly.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">III</p> - -<p>Paul Faircloth finished reading the teletape briefing just as the -little jet plane slipped down toward the hangar slot in South Chicago. -He slapped the spools into the erasure can and flipped the control -switch to activate the distortion field inside the can. He stretched -his legs, then, wondering vaguely whether he was going to come out of -this whole mess alive.</p> - -<p>Jean's parting hug was still warm in his memory, and he remembered the -worry in her big grey eyes as she had kissed him and said, "Be careful, -darling. I wish I could go, too. I couldn't bear to have anything -happen—" It was the first time she had ever actually spoken that word -to him, and he was glad she had. Almost defiantly glad. She had said it -aloud, and she had said so much, much more without words. Only vague -shadows in Faircloth's untrained mind, but he knew the meaning of those -shadows.</p> - -<p>A man was waiting down below on the platform for him. The hangar vault -was dark and deserted. He took the agent's card and scanned it briefly. -"Marino? I'm Paul Faircloth. Better give me a late briefing."</p> - -<p>Marino nodded. He was small and wiry, with catlike movements and -exceedingly bright eyes under his jet black eyebrows. "We'd be wise to -get on over while we talk," he said.</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded and stepped into the little tube-car that was waiting -at the end of the platform. It was a tight fit for two men, and Paul -ducked by reflex as it gave a lurch and dipped down the chute into a -narrow tunnel, hanging free and speeding ahead on its electronic guide -beam. "Is the Condor Building where he was spotted?"</p> - -<p>Marino nodded. "In Center City, Chicago. First thirty-six floors are -commercial, and the twenty above are residential. He's pinned pretty -definitely on the forty-second, in a large residential suite. No idea -why he chose it or how long he's been there—" He turned apologetic -eyes to Faircloth. "I'm Psi-High—I guess you know. We've got him -located and triangulated, and we can keep him pretty well pinned if -he doesn't try to give us a shower. We're pretty sure he knows we're -there."</p> - -<p>"Shower?"</p> - -<p>Marino nodded, grimly tapping his forehead. "A barrage, the works. This -Alien's got a powerful psi. And I mean powerful. He gave it to one of -our Psi-High men yesterday. It was savage. Nearly ripped him apart."</p> - -<p>Faircloth shivered. "But you can keep track of him."</p> - -<p>"Yes." Marino lit a cigarette with nervous fingers. "Roberts put -Psi-Highs out to spot him, but he doesn't want any Psi-Highs in on the -kill." His voice was flat with disappointment. "Political pressure, I -guess. People couldn't bear to give a Psi-High credit for anything—" -He glanced at Faircloth and reddened. "Sorry. No offense. It just -slipped out." He bit his lip. "Anyway, that's what you're here for. -Half a dozen other psi-negatives will help you. I hope God'll be -helping you too."</p> - -<p>Faircloth grinned tightly. "Got you nervous?"</p> - -<p>"It's got me plenty nervous."</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded again, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "All right. I -want your best men, every one of them, to go in with me. I don't care -whether they're Psi-High or not. Neither does Roberts; he's with you -folks all the way. But we've got to get this creature and get him cold. -He's slick. Is the building sewed up?"</p> - -<p>"Tight as a vacutainer."</p> - -<p>"Good. Keep it under cover, and try to keep the Psi-Highs from -broadcasting any more than necessary."</p> - -<p>Marino gave him a queer look. "They'll do their best, of course."</p> - -<p>"Right." Faircloth ran a hand through his brown hair and loosened his -tie a trifle. "As soon as the building is cleared from rush hour, I -want the power shut off all over the building. Elevators, lights, -everything. We'll be on the 41st floor, and a squad will be on the -43rd. We'll close in together."</p> - -<p>Marino shook his head. "I hope it works. They had him just as tight in -Des Moines last week, and he slid right through." The man's eyes were -worried. "We just don't know what we're fighting. That's the whole -trouble. Even the Psi-Highs are up a tree."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The car gave a lurch and slid to a stop. They stepped out into a shiny -tunnel filled with people emptying out of the huge building above. The -two men waited to board an express surface elevator, and stepped off on -the main concourse of the Condor Building. The last sunset rays made -a dazzling golden display on the banks of heliomirrors, and Faircloth -blinked, shielding his eyes a moment after the softer light below. -Then he glanced at his watch. "Let's coffee up," he said. "We've got a -few minutes."</p> - -<p>They slid into an eating booth on the concourse and dropped in coins -for coffee. It was so clumsy, Faircloth thought. Three and a half weeks -since the ship had been spotted down along the Mississippi, and they -were still just learning how clumsy they were. They had even thought -that the visitor, whoever he was, had been killed in landing until the -first Security Team had gotten to the ship. They'd gotten to within -just ten feet of it when it had exploded. And even then they hadn't -realized what they'd found, until the report came from Des Moines, and -they started following up leads. They had followed the alien, true, -from the first farmhouse where he had stopped the night he landed, west -through the farm country to Des Moines, then northeast to the great -Chicago metropolis. But when it came to contacting the creature or -capturing him—Faircloth shook his head. Clumsy just wasn't the right -word.</p> - -<p>He glanced at Marino, and then readied across the booth and buzzed for -a newstape. He glanced over the Washington news hurriedly. Another -upheaval in the Liberal Council. The Northern Democrats were trying to -drum up Civil Rights Party and One World Party support for their new -South American Developement program, and they weren't getting to first -base. And there was another vicious attack by Ben Towne on the Hoffman -Center's training program for Psi-Highs. Towne had even named Reuben -Abrams as a leader there, and worked in some high-grade anti-Semitic -innuendo into the association. Paul went tense, searching for Jean's -name. It was not mentioned. He took a deep breath. If that filthy dog -ever dragged her name into public. He finished his coffee, and gave the -repeat button a vicious jab.</p> - -<p>Then his eye caught a small item with a Des Moines dateline, well -hidden down at the bottom of the backside of the tape. He read it, -frowning:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="ph1">WOMAN CHARGES PSI-HIGH CONSPIRACY</p> - -<p>Des Moines, Ia., 27 June, 2157. A woman whose name was withheld today -placed charges against Miss Martha Bishop, 23, of Oak Park Section, -Chicago, whose name is listed in the Federal psi-positive registry. -The charge was made at local Federal Security offices, and accused -Miss Bishop of mental interference. The victim, who allegedly had -information concerning the rumors of an Alien visitor which have been -persistently appearing lately, claimed that Miss Bishop had attempted -to prevent her from reporting her information. After failing in this -attempt, Miss Bishop was charged with using her psi-powers to erase -the information from the woman's mind. Miss Bishop could not be -reached for comment.</p> - -<p>Mr. J. B. Dunlap, spokesman for the Liberal Senatorial Council in -Washington, has repeatedly denied that the rumor of alien visitors has -any basis in fact. Nevertheless, the charges against Miss Bishop are -being investigated fully—</p></div> - -<p>Faircloth crumpled the tape with a snarl and returned to his coffee. -Finally he nodded to Marino. "Drink up," he said, "and get in touch -with your men. It's time to go."</p> - -<p>Ted Marino left for the elevators to corral his men, arranging to meet -Faircloth in the concourse five minutes later. Paul found a visiphone -relay booth, and sank his long, lean body down in a relaxer facing the -screen. The last of the rush-hour people were still drifting by in the -corridor; Paul watched them anxiously. Then he gave a nervous laugh, -forcing himself to relax for a moment. If only Jean were here! He -battled an impulse to call her. Finally he dialed the priority code for -the Federal Security Commission offices in Washington.</p> - -<p>The relays clicked, and the code carried him through the front-line -secretaries without any trouble. He gave a sigh of relief. He was in -no mood to argue with secretaries. A moment later he was blinking at -Roberts' tri-di image on the screen.</p> - -<p>Roberts' face looked haggard. He nodded to Faircloth. "You got there, -then. Good. How does it look, Paul?"</p> - -<p>"Everything's just real nice," Faircloth growled. "They think they've -got him pinned. The building here has a central power source, and we -can bottleneck the whole place if we time it right."</p> - -<p>"Don't miss, Paul." Roberts' voice was tense. "Whatever you do, don't -miss."</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?"</p> - -<p>"Ben Towne has worked his way into this."</p> - -<p>"Oh, god!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I can't help it, there was nothing I could do. He has the whole -American Council behind him, and the Liberals can't hold out long on -negative results. Towne has the whole picture now, and if we don't -wrap it up fast, things here in the Capitol are going to blow sky high."</p> - -<p>Faircloth scowled. "Did you see the newstapes tonight?"</p> - -<p>"You mean the Bishop girl in Des Moines?" Roberts nodded unhappily. -"Got the report from Des Moines on it this afternoon. Trumped up from -beginning to end. I tell you, Towne is not playing around. I don't -know how he plans to work things, but I'm afraid that story was just -a starter. He'll do everything he can to tie the Alien up with the -Psi-Highs in the public eye—and you know Ben Towne when he gets -rolling. He'll play this rumor business up to the hilt. And the way -things are in the Senate now, that could mean real trouble."</p> - -<p>"Who's controlling Security news releases?"</p> - -<p>Roberts gave a short laugh. "Take a guess. Just one guess. Don't miss -tonight, my friend."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Faircloth nodded and signalled off. He sat swearing quietly to himself -for a few moments. Then Marino came by, and he swung out into the hall -again, glancing at his watch. "Ready?"</p> - -<p>Marino nodded. "Got the squads placed on the 41st and 43rd. Power goes -off when we step off the elevator on the 41st. Okay?"</p> - -<p>Faircloth grunted, and spread out a floor plan of the 42nd floor. "Is -the building all clear?"</p> - -<p>"All the commercial levels, yes. And autolocks go on all the doors but -the one we want when the power goes off."</p> - -<p>"Good. At least we shouldn't have residents underfoot. You've got -Psi-Highs posted outside the building?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, in 'copters. Circling the building fairly close, out of sight -range of the 42nd."</p> - -<p>"All right. We'll move in on him as soon as the power goes off. I want -cameras going everywhere—in the corridors, in the stairwells, even -in the 'copters outside. If there's a slip-up, I want to see where he -goes, and especially I want a picture of him. A <i>good</i> picture of him. -Maybe he can fuzz up human eyesight, but he'll have a hell of a time -fuzzing up a camera. Let's go."</p> - -<p>They stepped on the elevator, felt it rush up to the 41st floor. They -stepped off. As the door closed behind them, the whirring motors died, -and the lights went out. Faircloth led the way swiftly to the closed -stairwell where they met four other men, one with a motion camera. -"Cover everything," Paul said sharply. "If you see him, stop him with a -shocker, not with pellets. We want him alive." He opened the stairwell -and started up with the men behind him. Moments later they met part of -the group from the 43rd; they started swiftly down the dark corridor -toward the pinpointed residential suite.</p> - -<p>And then, like a savage blow, a wall of fire exploded in Faircloth's -brain. He gave a scream and jerked out his arms in an agonized -convulsion. He fell forward on his face.</p> - -<p>Wave after wave of searing agony burned through his brain; he jerked on -the floor, trying to scream again, unable to force a sound through his -twisted lips. He heard shouts around him, and a whistle shrilled; there -were running feet. Somebody tripped over him, tumbled to the floor with -a bone jarring crash. Three shots rang out even as he dragged himself -to his knees.</p> - -<p>He was blinded; he had never felt such horrible, driving pain, and -he clawed along the wall as more footsteps echoed frantically in the -corridor. Suddenly Marino was shaking his arm, and together they burst -through the open door of the suite as a roar of derisive laughter tore -through his mind.</p> - -<p>Faircloth opened his eyes and saw the empty room through a burning red -haze of pain. He collapsed on a chair, exhausted, as Marino threw open -all the doors. He gave a shout down the hall and others came running.</p> - -<p>Unbelieving, Faircloth stared around him, then looked frantically at -Marino. "You—you got him on the stairs?"</p> - -<p>Marino shook his head miserably. "Nobody could see him. Not a soul."</p> - -<p>The hoarse laughter grew louder in Faircloth's ears. "The cameras!" he -gasped.</p> - -<p>"Three of them are smashed. I don't know about the rest—"</p> - -<p>"You're certain?"</p> - -<p>Marino didn't answer. The answer was obvious. The Alien had slipped -away like a ghost in the night.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">IV</p> - -<p>Robert Roberts was waiting, nervous as a cat, when Faircloth arrived -at the Security office. There were deep circles under his pale grey -eyes, and a dark stubble on his chin. He greeted Paul with a silent -handshake; then they went back into the rear office, with its modern -panelled wall looking out across the valley to the tall white buildings -of the Capitol. Once it had been an inspiring sight to Faircloth. Now -he hardly even noticed. A rocket rose in the morning air, leaving its -white vapor trail like a pillar of cloud behind it. The weekly Venus -rocket, probably, or maybe one of the dozens of speculator ships off -for Titan. Faircloth scowled and sank into a relaxer with a sigh. "I'm -sorry, Bob," he said. "It was a bust. I couldn't help it."</p> - -<p>Roberts mixed a drink and shoved it across the desk to Paul; then he -touched off the end of a long black cigar. "What's done is done," he -said sourly. "You thought he was sewed up, and it turned out that he -wasn't." He turned worried eyes to Faircloth. "What we've got to know -is why he wasn't sewed up. Something went sour. What was it?"</p> - -<p>Faircloth was silent for a long moment. Then he said: "I think the -whole approach is sour."</p> - -<p>"Very possibly. How do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"I mean we're outclassed, that's what. This Alien is out of our -league—way out." His eyes caught Roberts'. "He's a telepath, Bob, and -I don't mean halfway. He's not just a feeble, groping, half-baked, -half-trained, poorly developed Psi-High human. I mean we're dealing -with telepathic power no human Psi-High ever even dreamed of—"</p> - -<p>Roberts' lips were tight. "Exactly what happened in Chicago?"</p> - -<p>"That's just it, I don't know." Faircloth sprang to his feet, his face -white. "Look, Bob, the building was virtually escape-proof. The boys -had every exit guarded three ways from Sunday. The power was off in the -entire building, and there was no way he could get out short of walking -through walls. And we had the walls guarded just in case he could. -We got him sewed up, and then we went in to get him, and WHAMMO!" -Faircloth clenched his fists, trembling. "I don't want to go through -that again, Bob, not for anything. It was murderous. And the horrible -part of it was that he wasn't using his full power on me. What I got -was just a gentle rap on the knuckles—"</p> - -<p>"And he slid through."</p> - -<p>"Clean. Smashed the cameras; got away without leaving a trace."</p> - -<p>Roberts shook his head, and fished a folder from his desk. "He didn't -smash all the cameras." He shoved the pictures across to Paul. "See -what you make of those."</p> - -<p>Faircloth blinked at them. There were several frames, obviously -printed from motion film. Pictures of a man-like figure running down a -passageway. The face was not visible. "Not much help," said Faircloth. -"Gives us a clothing description, maybe. Nothing else. He certainly -looks human enough!"</p> - -<p>Roberts nodded sourly. "At that distance anything would. Can't even get -reliable measurements. And you didn't even see him?"</p> - -<p>Faircloth shook his head. "Like I said, the whole approach is sour. -You're never going to get him this way."</p> - -<p>"You've got some ideas, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"I have."</p> - -<p>"Well, thank God somebody has." Some of the tiredness left Roberts' -face. "Let's have them."</p> - -<p>Paul Faircloth lit a cigarette and slowly shook his head. "Sorry," he -said. "First I want some answers. Straight answers about a certain -individual."</p> - -<p>Roberts' eyes narrowed. "You mean Ben Towne."</p> - -<p>"That's right."</p> - -<p>Roberts scowled and threw down his cigar. "All right, I'll tell you -about Ben Towne. It isn't pretty. Frankly, this Chicago fiasco was the -break Towne has been waiting for. There were Psi-Highs involved in -that raid. Towne knows it. And he's going to build a story of Psi-High -alliance with the Alien that will carry him to the White House."</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded grimly. "Does he have any conception of the -dangerousness of this creature?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Roberts snorted. "Of course he knows it! But Ben Towne is obsessed -with a single idea, and it twists everything he thinks into horrible -distortion." He leaned forward, staring at Paul. "Benjamin Towne wants -to wipe psi-positive faculties off the face of the Earth. He hates -Psi-Highs. Oh, I don't know the motives behind it. Maybe the fact of -his own imperfect body makes him hate what he considers a sort of -super-perfection appearing in the human race. It's a false premise, -of course. The predisposition of certain people to high extra-sensory -powers is neither a perfection nor an imperfection.</p> - -<p>"It's just another tiny step in the evolutionary chain. It happens -to be a dominant gene factor, and in our society it happens to put -the Psi-High in a slightly advantageous position in comparison to -psi-negatives."</p> - -<p>Roberts threw up his hands. "But the motives don't really matter. -Towne was smart enough to realize that there were lots of people -who hated and feared the expansion of Psi-Highs in our society. He -started fighting against it, and he's ridden that fight right into the -Chairmanship of the American Senatorial Council. If he can split up the -Liberal Council just a little bit, he can throw them out of office, and -move his American Party right in."</p> - -<p>"And where does the Alien fit in?"</p> - -<p>Roberts shrugged. "It's obvious, isn't it? Towne has taken an issue and -split the country wide open with it. And now, along comes a visitor -from the stars, an Alien visitor who steps out of his ship and just -disappears like a spirit into the population. An Alien who is fully -telepathic. Towne can control the news releases; he has the power to -decide on the security classification of information about the Alien. -It's been kept top secret up 'til now. But Ben can control the news, -and he can tie Psi-High humans and a vicious enemy Alien together so -neatly in the public mind that every Psi-High in the country will be in -danger of his life. It's political dynamite, and Towne is controlling -the fuse."</p> - -<p>Faircloth's face was white. "And if the Alien is caught?"</p> - -<p>"All the better for Towne. Then the 'rumored' liason between Psi-High -humans and invaders from space can be 'proved.' Towne is in the -driver's seat."</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded bitterly, and stood up, shaking the creases out of his -trousers. His face was grim. As he reached for his hat, his hand was -trembling. "That's just about the way I had it lined up, too," he said. -"Good-bye, Bob. Have a nice hunt."</p> - -<p>"Sit down, Paul."</p> - -<p>"Sorry. I'm not working on Ben Towne's payroll."</p> - -<p>"I think you are," Roberts snapped. His eyes flashed, and he sat up -straight behind the desk. "You're going to work with us, and you're -going to follow through to the bitter end. You and Jean both."</p> - -<p>Faircloth's eyes darkened. "Jean is not involved in this."</p> - -<p>"I am afraid she is. Just as deep as you are. And you and Jean are -going to do what I tell you in this investigation whether you happen to -like it or not. That is, if you ever want to marry Jean—"</p> - -<p>Faircloth whirled on Roberts, his eyes blazing. "What do you mean by -that?" he said softly. "What are you trying to say?"</p> - -<p>Roberts' eyes caught Paul's, and held them. "I'm saying that you happen -to be a Psi-High, Paul. And I just happen to know it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Paul Faircloth sank down in the chair again, staring at Roberts' face. -There was silence in the room for a long time. Then Paul said, "That's -a pretty bad joke, Bob."</p> - -<p>Roberts nodded sharply, his eyes twinkling. "I'll say it's a joke. It's -a colossal horse laugh—on Ben Towne. He was so sure that that private -file of his contained the names and histories of every psi-positive -individual in the country! It's a horse on you, too. It's against -Federal law to forge examination papers, Paul. It's against the law for -a Psi-High to be unregistered. Both state and Federal registration are -required. And it's against the law for two Psi-Highs to be married, -regardless of their stage of developement. Jean's work with Dr. Abrams -has developed her powers amazingly in the last couple of years. Yours -must be pretty crude, in order to keep them hidden so well—"</p> - -<p>"You've gone out of your mind," said Faircloth flatly.</p> - -<p>"Sorry, my friend. I'm afraid not."</p> - -<p>"But you have no proof—"</p> - -<p>"True, its strictly a hunch, and a little personal investigation. You -were through school when the registry law went through, and you must -have found somebody to leak the examination to you early. How you did -it, I neither know nor care. But all I need is a good strong suspicion -to subpoena you over to the Hoffman Center for a test." He smiled -at Faircloth. "Care to have me call Dr. Abrams? He's got some nice -definitive tests—"</p> - -<p>Faircloth's eyes fell. "That won't be necessary." He sighed, and sank -wearily back into the relaxer. "I knew it would be spotted sooner or -later. I even thought for a while that Marino had spotted it."</p> - -<p>"He had."</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded listlessly. "All right. What do you want, Bob?"</p> - -<p>Roberts' eyes were excited. "I want you to work with me. I think we -can get this Alien and sink Ben Towne's raft at the same time. There's -no single person in the country as dangerous to Towne right now as an -unregistered and unrecognized Psi-High. And that's just what you are. -And with you and Jean working this thing as a team, I think we can turn -the capture of the Alien to the benefit of all Psi-Highs."</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded slowly. "It could be done if my ideas are any good. -And they certainly would require Jean to put them across."</p> - -<p>"Then you're with me?"</p> - -<p>"Okay. You've got the aces." Faircloth gave a defeated grin. "I'll -probably hate you for this but let's get Jean over here and do some -planning. The first job on the docket is to pin this Alien and keep him -pinned."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">V</p> - -<p>Jean Sanders tossed her pencil down on the desk and flopped down -cross-legged on the floor. "I think we're going around in circles," she -said disgustedly. "Three separate circles," she added, with an owlish -glance at Bob Roberts.</p> - -<p>"All right, we're tired," the Security chief sighed. "We've been at -this for hours."</p> - -<p>"It's here," Faircloth said stubbornly. "We've got all the information -we need, if we can only pin down the application. Or at least we've got -enough information to make a start."</p> - -<p>"The more I see of the whole business," said the girl, "the more it -looks fishy to me." She lit a cigarette thoughtfully. Her face was -slender, with black brows and big grey eyes, and her slim figure made -her look sixteen. "And it gets fishier and fishier the more we talk."</p> - -<p>Paul nodded. "Exactly. There's something that we aren't seeing or -realizing or that we just don't know about this creature."</p> - -<p>"Well, let's try classifying what we do know," said Roberts. "We've got -a picture that isn't worth a plugged nickel. We've got a few photos -of the outside of the ship before it exploded. We know that he's -psi-triple-high, fully telepathic, with the ability to fuzz up his -observer's perception of him."</p> - -<p>"Disguise," said Jean. "It isn't perfect. He needs that to hide the -wrinkles in the disguise."</p> - -<p>Faircloth walked across the room, staring at the walls. "Then there's -the ship. It was found near Gutenberg, Iowa, on a bluff overlooking the -Mississippi, three months ago. That's a fact. Farm kids found the ship -but didn't go near it. Scared stiff. Told their father and he called -Security. I don't suppose there was any way of telling how long the -ship had been there?"</p> - -<p>Roberts shook his head. "Biologists and geologists both had a whack at -it, but the explosion destroyed all the flora and ground area within -twenty feet of it."</p> - -<p>"Well, anyway, no occupant of the ship was found, and no trace of where -the occupant might have gone. Security sent a scout squad down to -photograph the ship and it blew into a million pieces."</p> - -<p>"That's right."</p> - -<p>"How many of the million pieces were recovered?"</p> - -<p>"About ten. Magnesium alloy. Told us nothing."</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded. "Okay. Then the Psi-High report came in from Des -Moines, and you turned up the farmer and his wife who saw the Alien -the first night. What was their name? Bettendorf, I think. Jacob -Bettendorf. Rather dull folks. They fed him and sent him on his way. -Noticed nothing odd, but the farmer said his eyes felt tired all the -time the creature was there. How did their description jive with the -others you've gotten?"</p> - -<p>Roberts shrugged. "The same—or I should say, uniformly different. -Nobody seems to agree. It's obvious that they don't actually see him in -any detail at all. They just think they do."</p> - -<p>"You know," said the girl, suddenly, "that's one of the things that -bothers me. A lot of those people out there are Ben Towne's stoutest -supporters. They don't like Psi-Highs. They keep their eyes open -for people that act like Psi-Highs—you know, the way we're likely -to nod and start answering a question before a person gets it half -asked—or the way we sometimes forget our expressions when we've had -an accidental peep at some sweet innocent young girl's inner thoughts. -Those people can spot that. But the Alien went right through. Not even -a suspicion."</p> - -<p>"He got into the city fast, though," said Roberts. "City folks are -likely to be a lot less observant than country people."</p> - -<p>"All right," said Paul. "That fits well enough. Now, since he destroyed -his ship, we can assume that he is planning to stay a while. That -probably means that there have been others before him. He's too -confident for an advance scout. He knew he could mingle, and stay, -and observe, and learn, and get away with it. Probably his job is to -accumulate information, detailed information about human beings, and -with full blown telepathy he must really be making hay. And unless I -miss my guess, the information he wants most of all is information -about Psi-Highs." Faircloth faced Roberts and the girl. "This is -beginning to add up now. I don't think we're going to catch him in -a dragnet. No matter how skillfully it's laid. No matter how many -Psi-Highs we have on it, and no matter how well trained they are."</p> - -<p>Roberts looked disgusted. "Then you're saying that we aren't going to -get him, period."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no. I think we can catch him. At least I've got an angle that's -worth trying. We'll have no way of evaluating it first, because of -the nature of the thing, but in the end we'll either have the Alien or -we won't, and I think there's a good chance that we will. If we keep -playing the Chicago game we'll lose every time."</p> - -<p>"But what went wrong in Chicago?" Roberts cried.</p> - -<p>"Nothing, except that we were licked before we started. Look at it this -way. He's outguessed us every time. And if you analyze that a little, -it's not really surprising that he has because he's telepathic. He does -not need a twenty-page report and a road map to know what's going on -around him. All he needs is a hint. Just a bare touch of man's mind, -a slight flicker of contact, and he has enough of a head start to sit -down and figure out everything that's going to happen from then on. -Just like a chess game. You play along and suddenly your opponent -makes a move that reveals a whole gambit which you hadn't been able to -see before. But our Alien friend spots the gambit on the basis of the -first move instead of the tenth. We make a move and he has it pinned. -He knows we operate along fairly logical lines. He can follow out the -logical possibilities before they happen, and there's no possible way -we can trap him. Psi-Highs or no Psi-Highs."</p> - -<p>Roberts scowled at him. "Then what do you propose?"</p> - -<p>Faircloth grinned. "It should be obvious by this time. We feed the -computer with all the evidence we have, and let it meditate a while -and plot out a supremely logical approach to trap the creature on -the basis of what we know of him now. Then we take that supremely -logical approach, and change it a bit. We change it into a completely -<i>illogical</i> approach."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The call they were waiting for came through at three o'clock one -morning, after they had almost given it up in despair.</p> - -<p>It had been a long, heartbreaking wait. Time after time Faircloth had -pleaded that they must have been very close in Chicago, closer than -they realized, that the Alien was just temporarily frightened, because -there had been no sign, no due to the Alien's whereabouts, no sign that -he was even in existence since the Chicago raid. Yet Faircloth felt -sure that sooner or later the contact would come.</p> - -<p>It was possible, of course, that the change in the search pattern -had worried the Alien. Logically, a dragnet should have been set up -in Chicago, and the entranceways to all the large cities guarded -carefully. That was what the computer had said. "Probability is very -strong that the Alien desires to remain in a city, but suggests that -Chicago may not be the optimum location for him. Recommended heavy -Security measures be taken in Chicago and surrounding cities of -size. The probability is very high that the Alien is seeking some -specific information. Advise close control of all spaceports, air, and -rolling-road escapeways—"</p> - -<p>And so forth. That was what the computer had said. Of course, the -computer was far from infallible, but its analysis and recommendations -were utterly logical on the basis of the information given it. That was -exactly why they were carefully ignored.</p> - -<p>It was a gamble, and no one was more aware of this than Faircloth. -All Security personnel were withdrawn from the Chicago area, Psi-High -and otherwise, except for a small crew headed by Ted Marino, who were -scattered throughout the city. A gamble, but it was not entirely -guesswork that made Paul so certain that the Alien, if left quite -alone, would try to make contact with a Psi-High mind sooner or later. -Of course, that conclusion itself was the result of logical reasoning. -No matter what efforts were made to remove logic from the approach, it -crept in. It had to creep in.</p> - -<p>It was logical that a telepathically sensitive creature visiting a -strange planet would seek to learn something about the segment of the -population that could expose his presence. He would seek signs of his -own kind of thought. Paul knew too well that a Psi-High mind that -was cut off and alone was a sick mind. That was why Psi-Highs always -settled in the cities, why they sought each other with such fierce, -desperate clannishness which in itself had bred suspicion of them in -the minds of psi-negatives. It was not a matter of choice, with them. -It was a desperate need. And Paul knew how overpowering that need could -be.</p> - -<p>No, logically, the Alien would make contact with a human Psi-High, -sooner or later. It would not be difficult to keep control of such -a contact. The Psi-Highs were very few, numbering in the hundreds, -scattered in colonies in the larger cities of the North American -States. With painstaking care each one was contacted and warned, and -those in Security Service were spotted in the most likely places for -the contact they were waiting for. The roads were left free, and the -airports and spaceports were not checked. An invisible network of human -minds lay across the country, delicately tuned, waiting for the spark -of contact.</p> - -<p>Faircloth was asleep when the call finally came. He rolled groggily -out of bed, his heart racing, and groped for the visiphone screen. Ted -Marino's face materialized on the silvery curve; a frightened, shaking -Marino whose eyes were wide with horror, whose hands jerked nervously -as he unsuccessfully tried to control them. His voice was on the thin -edge of hysteria. "He hit me, Paul. Just a little while ago."</p> - -<p>Paul leaned forward, staring at the pale form in the screen. "Ted, are -you hurt?"</p> - -<p>"No, no. But oh, god!"</p> - -<p>"It couldn't have been just another Psi-High contacting you? It's -deadly important, Ted—"</p> - -<p>Marino shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no. It <i>couldn't</i> have been. -I've been in Psi-High contact enough to know what it's like. This was -different. It was like he'd lifted off my skull and scooped out my -brains."</p> - -<p>Faircloth lit a smoke, trembling. "Did you try to fight it?"</p> - -<p>The man nodded. "I tried. He was clear in before I knew what had -happened, but I tried. I—I think it puzzled him. It didn't do any good -at all. He just brushed it aside."</p> - -<p>"Ted," said Faircloth. "Now listen. Forget about it. Don't write up a -report. Don't even think about it. As far as you're concerned, the job -is over. Get dressed, and travel south—down to Florida, Rio, any old -place, it doesn't matter where, just go. Use an expense account and -have yourself the time of your life."</p> - -<p>Marino's eyes opened in amazement. "Are you crazy? I thought this was -what—"</p> - -<p>"It is. Do what I say and don't worry about it. You're finished on this -job. When you've gotten a good rest come back to the Hoffman Center -and take up your training with Dr. Abrams where you left off." Paul -flipped the switch and turned back to the room, his heart pounding a -staccato cadence in his throat. He grinned triumphantly and began to -pack his bag.</p> - -<p>The chase was on, but this time, the mouse was chasing the cat.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">VI</p> - -<p>As if a dam had broken, the reports began streaming in. Three more -came from Chicago. Then a call came from Cleveland, from a Psi-High -technician there who was not remotely connected with the Federal -Security Commission. Then from Pittsburgh, then New Philadelphia. Like -a fearful, ominous flood the reports of the Alien's contacts swarmed -in. And Paul Faircloth and Jean Sanders were ready for them.</p> - -<p>Their headquarters was a small suite of rooms in a middle class -residential hotel in the heavily populated metropolitan area between -Washington and Baltimore. Few of the Federal Security agents, Psi-High -or otherwise, knew this. They knew only a visiphone priority code -number, and a special word-key for scrambling. This was as Faircloth -insisted. Of all the agents posted and assigned, only Paul, Jean, and -Roberts knew the true nature of the operation, and each of them worked -out their own illogical details without telling the others.</p> - -<p>The wisdom of such a procedure was graphically illustrated a dozen -times over for the Alien at work was thorough. An operative in -Pittsburgh had attempted resistance to the Alien's telepathic -overtures, as instructed, and suffered a burst of wrath that had left -him blubbering in a corner for three days until a crew from Hoffman -Center straightened him out with a week's diet of amphetamine and -glucose. More and more, the Alien's puzzlement and frustration and -wrath began to seep through, and Paul and Jean watched the reports, and -nodded approvingly. Three times, when they were sure that the Alien -had left a locality, they ordered cleanup squads to make raids on his -former quarters, quizzing the inhabitants and neighbors, asking a -multitude of idiotic questions, uncovering a half a dozen descriptions -and leads which they assiduously ignored. Then they began stabbing -erratically at locations where the Alien had <i>not</i> yet been, raids -which were carried out with a viciousness and singleness of mind that -left the unfortunates who were questioned quaking in their boots. On -these raids, even the agents themselves were confused as to their -purpose.</p> - -<p>And there were other tactics, a myriad of disjointed, unconnected, -abortive, harassing procedures, as though the whole search had suddenly -fallen into the hands of a madman. A rocketship bound for Venus was -delayed four days beyond an opposition, adding a half-million dollars -to the cost of fueling it. A whole series of road blocks were thrown -up between New York and New Philadelphia, virtually paralyzing the -commercial traffic between the cities for two days. Quite suddenly, -the order went out to close down on all passengers in the great St. -Louis-New York rolling roads, and Robert Roberts put in a grueling week -soothing the ruffled feelings of the businessmen who had been held up -and the companies whose products had spoiled when the swift-moving -strips had ground to a halt.</p> - -<p>The news that there <i>was</i> an Alien from the stars at large, that -Federal Security was waging a vast underground battle to capture him, -was no longer a deep secret. The tension mounted daily.</p> - -<p>And bit by bit, carefully sifted bits of information were dropped into -the minds of the Psi-Highs who were still in the Alien's path. Long -hours were spent in the headquarters suite planning the pattern to be -used. But in the end it was a pattern well chosen and worth the effort -because it was soon evident that the Alien was heading for the great -metropolitan area which surrounded the nation's capitol.</p> - -<p>No attempt was made to contact him. It had been entirely passive. The -Alien's overtures had received no response other than futile attempts -at shielding; no analyses of his contacts were attempted, and this -knowledge was planted so that the Alien was sure to learn it. Warnings -of traps were planted in his path, "secret" knowledge of closing -dragnets and carefully devised Psi-High weapons to be used against -him; occasionally such warnings were followed by abortive raids, either -too early or too late to meet him, lead by psi-negative Security men -who had no more idea what they were doing than the man in the moon. But -one by one, key facts were planted, pointing always in one direction, -aimed at one man, and always the Alien moved toward the city.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Paul Faircloth and Jean Sanders seldom left their headquarters. Their -job was to keep the pattern moving, and to plan out their individual -parts quite separate from each other. It was terrifically wearing. As -the tension mounted, both of them grew more haggard. Paul had not found -time to shave in a week, and there were dark circles under the girl's -eyes. Much of the time she just sat, tense, listening, waiting. Other -times she helped him work as he fed data into the teletype and tape -readers which had been set up in their quarters. But even amid the -tension and exhaustion of the work neither of them could forget the -simple, awful fact that Paul Faircloth had been exposed as a Psi-High, -and that somehow, they would have to rearrange all that the future had -held for them both.</p> - -<p>Each morning they spread the reports out on the table before them. -"Closer," Paul said one day. "And it's on his own volition. He hasn't -been pushed. On the contrary, he's been left quite out in the cold. And -he doesn't like it."</p> - -<p>The girl nodded and glanced at the papers. "And he's definitely trying -to ask questions. Karns' call last night showed that better than any -other. And of course Karns didn't know any answers."</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded. "None of them know the answers. That's the beauty of -it. Try as he will, he doesn't get anywhere."</p> - -<p>"Not yet." The girl rose, walking across the room. "Paul, I'm afraid. -We're shooting in the dark. We don't know what we're fighting against."</p> - -<p>"Are you sorry you're in on it?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no!" She turned around, her face stricken. "I'd never want you -to think that, never." His mind was suddenly filled with shadows, -impressions struggling to get through, impressions that would make the -use of words ridiculous. "Oh, Paul, I'm afraid! For you, for both of -us. If anything should happen—"</p> - -<p>"Nothing's going to happen, darling—"</p> - -<p>"But what about <i>us</i>? If something goes wrong. Roberts knows about you."</p> - -<p>Paul's eyes could not meet hers. "It was bound to be found out -sometime. I'd rather Roberts knew than Ben Towne."</p> - -<p>The girl's eyes were wide with fright. "But we shouldn't be together! -Oh, Paul, how did he find out? Why did anyone have to find out?" -And then she was sobbing in his arms, and he held her close, trying -to comfort her as her body shook against his chest. "Jeannie," he -murmured. "Please, darling, don't—"</p> - -<p>"But it's so unfair! Why shouldn't I be allowed to marry you if I want -to?"</p> - -<p>"You know why, darling! It's the law. We tried to fight it but the -people are afraid of us. There's nothing we can do about it. They -passed the law, and they think it's right."</p> - -<p>"Ben Towne thinks it's right!" she burst out scornfully. Her tears were -hot on his cheek.</p> - -<p>"Towne backed it to the hilt, I know. But people are afraid of a man -carrying a single psi-positive gene, like you and me. What would they -do if they doubled? How could we tell what our children would be like? -Look, darling, think! You're just getting a grip on your faculties now. -You're learning how to use your psi-powers, and look what you're doing! -You can almost get through to me, and I've had no formal training at -all, I've been underground, just training myself as best I could. -You're nearly top-grade, Dr. Abrams says you'll have almost complete -control in five years, and I could too, with the proper training. What -would our children be like with the factor on both sides?"</p> - -<p>"Well, what would be wrong with it?" The girl was fighting back the -tears. "Are we such monsters? Have we done things so terrible that we -have to be caged like animals and kept under control like criminals?"</p> - -<p>Paul shook his head. "People only know what they hear. Ben Towne has -been a terrible, vicious enemy, and enough people believe him to give -him tremendous power. The people are nervous, and fearful, and there's -nothing we can do about it." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket -and dabbed at her face with it. "We've got a job to do, Jeannie. It -might be the most important thing that Psi-Highs have ever tried to do. -We can't flop on this job."</p> - -<p>"But Towne will just turn it against us—"</p> - -<p>"Not if we work it right. And I've got a hunch that we're working it -right."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">VII</p> - -<p>The visiphone buzzed shrilly that afternoon, and Roberts' worried face -appeared in the screen. "Paul," he said sharply. "There are some bad -rumors around. I think something's up."</p> - -<p>Paul cursed. "What kind of rumors?"</p> - -<p>"All kinds," said Roberts sourly. "They're saying the hunt for the -Alien is a fraud, that nobody is doing anything at all about it. There -were a couple of out-and-out charges that Psi-Highs are teaming up with -the Alien to make an attack on the government—"</p> - -<p>"My god, can't somebody put the lid on that man?"</p> - -<p>"That wasn't Towne's work. It was some other Federal Isolationist -Senator on one of the propaganda programs the Normal Supremacy party -has on TV. There's talk that the Civil Rights bloc in the Liberal -Council is getting ready to switch to the American Council side and -force a Presidential election. And that could put Towne in the White -House. He's getting ready to move, Paul. We haven't got very long. The -word has been sneaking out all over. Towne is behind it, of course, -but he's smooth; oh, he's smooth. Congress hasn't been joined into two -solid political parties for two hundred years, but they're doing it -now, and it'll be a bloody battle. If Towne can get the Civil Rights -bloc to switch to his Council he's got the Senate in the palm of his -hand."</p> - -<p>"Who's the leader of the Civil Rights men?" Faircloth's voice was sharp.</p> - -<p>"That's just the thing. It has been Mike Veriday. His brother's a -Psi-High. But his stock has taken an awful nosedive since this rumor -campaign started. The polls have got him trailing Kingsley from -Kentucky by three per cent, losing ground fast. Now Kingsley, it -seems, is in some mean financial trouble that Towne got him into, and -Towne is ready to clear him of some nasty charges if he plays along—" -He paused for a long moment. "We haven't got much time, Paul."</p> - -<p>"Well, I hope we don't need much. But I think you can call in as many -of our men as you need to. If things get too hot for you, list Jean -and myself as missing, and throw out a dragnet for us. Because I think -we'll be very much outside the law in another day or so."</p> - -<p>Roberts blinked at him. "Better tell me what you're planning, Paul."</p> - -<p>"Don't worry what I'm planning. The less you know about it the better. -Just one thing, though. You remember Eagle Rock? The place we built up -on Timagami when we were in college? Put three men at a number where -I can reach them, and give them the location of Eagle Rock. Then tell -them to stand by with a fast jet scooter. Got that? And don't let -<i>this</i> leak, no matter what happens."</p> - -<p>"I wish you'd tell me—"</p> - -<p>"We're fighting for our lives, now, Bob. And for every Psi-High in the -country. I won't tell you."</p> - -<p>Roberts nodded, and doused his cigar. "Eagle Rock," he said. "You can -count on it."</p> - -<p>Paul flipped the set off and sank back to wait for the Alien to make -contact.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He struck at ten o'clock that evening, with a ferocity beyond their -wildest expectations.</p> - -<p>They had known that he was near. The reports had come in, and they had -plotted and calculated his pathway, and waited. It was only a matter of -time, and the carefully planted information built a tangled, devious -circle with a single Psi-High individual in the center.</p> - -<p>Jean Sanders.</p> - -<p>It had to be Jean. Paul hated it. He wished it could be him, that he -could somehow protect her, but Jean Sanders was the only possible -person to bait the trap. Her psi-powers had been developed carefully -and painstakingly for years under the care of Dr. Reuben Abrams and -his staff at the Hoffman Medical Center. A Psi-High individual was -helpless to use his powers without training. Just as a child was -trained through long, gruelling years to use the mental faculties -of thought, and perception, and logic, a psi-positive mind required -training to control its powers of perception and physical control, if -its powers were ever to be used.</p> - -<p>Paul knew that all too well. He had the psi-positive factor, too. He -had not realized, in his teens, when he had plagued and baited the two -Psi-High boys in his high school class, that there might be a time -factor in psi-positive developement. Other Psi-Highs showed the signs -of abnormal sensory apparatus at the age of one, or three, or seven. -The schools caught them, tested them, registered them and sent them -out into a life of fear and suspicion and hatred. They were considered -freaks, the more dangerous because there was no physical identification -that could be used to separate them from ordinary human beings.</p> - -<p>And certain men had seen the great power that stood waiting for the man -who took advantage of the people's fears. Ambition is blinding; certain -men could see the danger to the comfortable, careless wielding of power -if Psi-High minds were to work their way into government. But minds, -like Paul Faircloth's mind, matured at different ages, and at different -times. And some slipped through the barrage of testing, undetected, -only to discover later that it was not the backs of the cards they were -reading, but the mind of their opponent that held the cards.</p> - -<p>The faculty was feeble in people like Paul. He could not read minds. -He could not sort and integrate the confused tendrils of conscious and -unconscious thought that broke like an endless stream from a human -mind; he could not separate the reality of here-and-now thinking from -the strands of fantasy, and memory, and supposition, and frustration, -and desire, and half-understanding, and confusion that lay beneath the -surface of those minds. He could detect falsehood and he could feel -suspicion; he could sense love as he had never felt it before, and he -could feel himself gripped in the helpless frustration of pity; he -could savor excitement with a thousand tingling nerves, and he could -sense the blackest depths of despair, but he could not sort them out to -make a coherent picture of the thoughts streaming from a human mind. It -took a lifetime of training of a Psi-High mind to do that.</p> - -<p>But Jean Sanders could. That was why she was waiting in the room with -him when the Alien struck.</p> - -<p>She was walking across the room when it happened. She stiffened, -screamed, and even Paul's untrained mind caught the impact of the wave -of fear and revulsion that swept from her mind. She sank to the floor, -and Paul stood by, watching helplessly as she twisted and writhed in -the blind agony of the powerful invasion. "Please," she choked, white -faced. "Get me a pillow. Then—then listen—"</p> - -<p>"Don't fight him," Paul whispered. "Let him in. Let him clear in. And -then jump on him for all you're worth. Dig, dig deep—"</p> - -<p>Her eyes became huge, like the eyes of an animal, frightened beyond -hope, cornered, attacked and helpless to fight back. Her neck strained -back, and her teeth clenched. The blood drained from her face as she -began moaning. "I can't, Paul—" she cried, "I—I can't get in—"</p> - -<p>"You've got to—" Frantically Paul tried to thrust out with his mind, -tried to dig through the wall of immense power that was present in the -room. The Alien was close, very close, and the presence of his mind was -overwhelming. Paul tried to break through, and then suddenly he felt a -pang of white heat sear through his brain, driving him back, a sharp, -savage stroke that doubled him up, clasping his hands helplessly to his -ears as he fell and writhed on the floor in pain. And then suddenly it -was gone as swiftly as it had come. He lay panting for a moment. Then -he managed to crawl across the room to Jean. He sank his head to her -chest, heard the slow pounding of her heart. He shook her, gently; her -eyes flickered open, her face filled with horror and loathing. "Oh, -Paul, I got—I got so little—"</p> - -<p>"What did you get, darling?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing. A picture or two, nothing more. Oh, he was so strong, I -couldn't make a dent—"</p> - -<p>"What pictures?"</p> - -<p>She sat up, her breath coming in gasps. "Nothing definite. Ben -Towne—yes, there was something about him—just the flash of a mental -picture, no rationality connected with it. And some papers, some sort -of file—" She clasped her hands to her head. "He—he stripped me -clean! I can't—"</p> - -<p>"Jeannie! There must have been something else—"</p> - -<p>She looked up at him, a strange light in her eyes. "I don't understand -it," she whispered. "There was a picture of a farm—yes, a farm, and a -dog, and blood on a pair of pants—"</p> - -<p>Paul sat back, staring at her stupidly. And then, suddenly, a light -flashed on in his mind, a flash so incredible that he hardly dared -think of it. In an instant he was on his feet, the blood pounding in -his throat. He began throwing clothes into a bag as the girl sat there, -watching him dully, in growing alarm. "Stay here," he said. "I'll call -you—"</p> - -<p>"Paul—where—"</p> - -<p>"It's my show, now, darling. Wait, rest, you'll be all right. Rest, and -say a prayer or two. Because I've got this Alien nailed for sure this -time."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was incredibly dangerous and utterly necessary. Paul found a -visiphone booth in the rear of a station where there were few people, -and quickly threw an adapter across the camera, and spun a roll of -film in. The film started when the party at the other end flipped on -the switch. The conversation was brief. Paul gave the address of a -roof-garden apartment in Central Washington, and then disconnected. -After removing the film, he reconnected with a number he had given -Roberts a few hours before. Ted Marino's face appeared, and Paul heaved -a sigh of relief. "How many men do you have, Ted?"</p> - -<p>"Two."</p> - -<p>"All Psi-High?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly."</p> - -<p>Paul nodded. "All right, we're beyond the law from now on, Ted. If you -or any of the rest want out, take off."</p> - -<p>Marino's dark eyes sparkled. "Roberts said this is the kill," he said.</p> - -<p>"It's not the kill you think. But it's a kill, all right. Take the men -to this address." He gave the roof-garden number. "Have a jet scooter -there, and see that nobody spots it. Use Security insignia. Send out a -bleeper if anything goes wrong. I'll be there."</p> - -<p>He rang off, and moments later was rising high above the city in his -own scooter. In ten minutes he had reached the roof-garden, and settled -the little ship down gently on its gyros. He walked inside and sat down -in the darkness, and waited.</p> - -<p>He heard another jet scooter land. Marino walked in with two other -men Paul remembered vaguely. He nodded to them, and they also sat -down. Paul fingered the shocker in his pocket, his nerves screaming a -thousand warnings in his ears.</p> - -<p>The guard robot on the ground floor bleeped sharply. Paul reached for -the lock-release switch, and heard the elevator start to whine. He -unlocked the door and left it ajar, then motioned to one of the men. -"Cover the hallway, and back them up when they come. Don't be surprised -at who it is."</p> - -<p>The man disappeared down the hall. Paul sat quietly, and then heard the -elevator open. There were footsteps, and a tapping sound. The footsteps -stopped at the door.</p> - -<p>"Come on in," he called sharply. "Bob'll be with you in just a minute."</p> - -<p>The door swung open and Senatorial Councilman Ben Towne walked into the -room, followed by two tight-faced men. One of the men had a hand in his -jacket pocket. Towne blinked at Faircloth, and his grin began to fade -into alarm. "Who in the hell are you?"</p> - -<p>"One of Roberts' men."</p> - -<p>"Roberts said you had the Alien," Towne snarled. His green eyes peered -around the room.</p> - -<p>Marino swung on the man to the right, bringing him down with a blow to -the temple. Paul slapped Towne's cane to the floor, and pounced on the -other guard like a cat. The Councilman staggered against the door jamb, -trying desperately to reach his cane. Moments later the guards were -helpless, and Paul and Marino dragged Towne out to the middle of the -room. "The files," Paul said sharply. "Where do you keep them?"</p> - -<p>Towne's breath came heavily. "You damned snakes can't get away with -this—"</p> - -<p>"The files, Councilman."</p> - -<p>His eyes went around the room fearfully. "The boys know where they -are," he said finally, his voice so low it was hardly audible.</p> - -<p>"Any duplicates?"</p> - -<p>"Not of the files you want."</p> - -<p>Paul nodded to the two men. "Take them down and get the files. Then -turn the men and files over to Roberts. Tell him to see that the men -forget all about this." He turned back to Towne. "You're taking a -little ride."</p> - -<p>"When this hits the papers it'll be the end of the road for you -freaks," Towne snarled. "You can't stop it now—"</p> - -<p>"We'll see," said Faircloth. "Now shut up and get moving."</p> - -<p>They left the cane in the room. Paul helped Marino load him aboard the -jet scooter. "Take him up to Eagle Rock. Keep him there. Dismantle -the engine, if you have to, to keep him there. I'll be there in a few -hours."</p> - -<p>Marino nodded. "Should I report to Roberts?"</p> - -<p>"Don't bother. Roberts would have a stroke. I brought Towne over here -on a dummy visiphone film of Roberts, which will put him in enough hot -water as it is."</p> - -<p>"And where are you going?"</p> - -<p>"I'm taking a plane west. I've got a visit to make. I've got to see a -man about a dog."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">VIII</p> - -<p>The farmer blinked across the table at him, red eyed and fearful. -"I don't know what you want," he was saying. His voice was high and -querulous. "I didn't ask no trouble of the Federal Men. They asked me -all them questions, and I told them—"</p> - -<p>"That's all right," said Faircloth. "We're just rechecking. You were -the first party the Alien contacted as far as we can tell. The ship -landed on your property, didn't it?"</p> - -<p>The farmer nodded. "Over by the river. Scrub oak and elms standing over -there on the bluff. Haven't never cleared it because it'd be too rocky -to farm."</p> - -<p>"All right, all right," said Faircloth sharply. "I want you to tell me -what happened that night."</p> - -<p>The farmer's eyes flitted to Faircloth's face and back down to the -table. "I already told you twenty times. Why do you pick on me?" he -whined. "I couldn't help it he happened to stop here. Heard him on the -porch about ten o'clock at night—I was just gettin' ready for bed. -And he said he was travelin' and wanted something to eat. We don't see -strangers around here very often, Mister—" he looked up at Faircloth -fearfully. "I—I looked at him, and he looked all right to me. My eyes -were tired, like I said. I couldn't see him too well, but he came in, -and ate, and I offered to bed him for the night. He said no, he had to -make on for Des Moines."</p> - -<p>Faircloth watched the man's eyes. "Details, Mr. Bettendorf. You've -left some out along the line, haven't you? I have a report here that -was filed by our field team that talked to you." He pulled out a sheaf -of papers in the dim kitchen light. "Says something about your dog -barking."</p> - -<p>The farmer's face went white. "There anything wrong with that? I reckon -the dog did bark. I don't remember."</p> - -<p>"And you went to open the door, and the stranger was there, eh?"</p> - -<p>The farmer nodded his head eagerly. "I told you everything—"</p> - -<p>"And you brought him in and fed him and then sent him on his way?"</p> - -<p>"That's right, that's what I done."</p> - -<p>"You're a liar," said Faircloth. He eyed the man coldly. "Try the story -over again. Once more now."</p> - -<p>The farmer jolted to his feet, his eyes feverish. "I done just like I -told you. I didn't tell no lie. I heard the dog yelping—"</p> - -<p>"And you opened the door and there was a stranger there." Faircloth's -voice was sharp. "Then what happened? Step by step. Minute by minute. I -mean it, mister, I want the truth."</p> - -<p>"I—I looked at him—"</p> - -<p>"What light did you have?"</p> - -<p>"This here same light. Not very much—"</p> - -<p>"And what did he say?"</p> - -<p>"He said, 'I'm a traveler and I'd like something to eat.'"</p> - -<p>"And what did his voice sound like?"</p> - -<p>The farmer faltered. "It was funny—like gravel in a tin can. A funny -kind of voice."</p> - -<p>"And where was the dog all this time?"</p> - -<p>The farmer blanched, "He—he done stayed outside. He saw it was all -right."</p> - -<p>"Where's the dog now?"</p> - -<p>"I sold him. I mean he ran away. You can't keep a dog forever, Mister."</p> - -<p>Faircloth's face was very near the old man's. "The stranger was out on -the porch and you talked to him and let him come in. And then what did -you do?"</p> - -<p>"I—he sat down at the table, I think—I—I—"</p> - -<p>"You went over to get some food from the stove, didn't you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes, that's right."</p> - -<p>"And then you saw blood on his pants, didn't you? And you remembered -hearing your dog give a yelp out in the yard, didn't you? The stranger -had blood all over his pants and boots, didn't he?"</p> - -<p>The farmer's eyes were wide with fear. He was shaking his head -helplessly. "No—no—"</p> - -<p>"And so you picked up your gun and you shot him, didn't you?"</p> - -<p>And then the old man's face was in his hands, bending over the table, -crying like a baby—huge, fearful sobs racking his boney shoulders. "He -killed my dog," he choked between sobs. "He killed old Brownie, gave -him a kick that split his head open. He didn't have to do that to poor -old Brownie. I knew he was a bad one when he did that. I shot him. Yes, -I did."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The news broke to the nation that night, and the country went into -a panic unequalled since the days of the Great Cold War. Paul -Faircloth spent an hour on the visiphone from Des Moines talking to -Robert Roberts, going over the whole business from beginning to end. -The Security chief chain-smoked three cigars for the first time in -his life. Finally Roberts put a line through to the Speaker of the -Joint Senatorial Councils. Half an hour later, while Faircloth was -making his way by jet back to Washington, Roberts was in top-secret -conference with the Senate Council Leaders, and then with the President -himself. And then the news broke. It was an official White House News -conference, and it had been dismissed barely three minutes when the -radios and TVs were carrying the casts of the announcement.</p> - -<p>Faircloth brought his plane down at Eisenhower Field, and saw the crowd -swarming across the landing strip before he got to the ground. A dozen -flashbulbs popped, and before he could get into the Security limousine -waiting for him, he was in the middle of a tight circle of reporters.</p> - -<p>"How long has the Alien been at large, Mr. Faircloth?" one of them -asked.</p> - -<p>"Sorry. The chief will have to answer that."</p> - -<p>"Is there any doubt that he's telepathic?"</p> - -<p>"No doubt whatsoever. I know that from personal experience. It's the -only way he could move freely in the population."</p> - -<p>"How was he first detected?"</p> - -<p>Paul smiled to himself. "The President gave you that information, -didn't he? A Psi-High citizen spotted him in Des Moines. The Psi-Highs -have been on his trail ever since."</p> - -<p>One of the reporters was tugging at his arm. "There's been a lot of -talk about some kind of—well, liason between the Alien invader and the -Psi-Highs in this country."</p> - -<p>Paul frowned. "If that were true, would we be working twenty-four -hours a day to trap him? Use your head, man. There've been a lot of -unfortunate rumors, I'm afraid. But I can speak for the Psi-Highs, and -I think Commissioner Roberts will back me up on this—the Alien is -menacing our very civilization. He's struck at one of our most beloved -public servants in an attempt to undermine the government and prepare -our planet for a full scale invasion. There isn't a Psi-High citizen -in the country who will rest until the monster is caught, and until -Councilman Towne has been returned safely to Washington."</p> - -<p>"But what about Towne's anti-Psi legislation? He's always hated -Psi-Highs."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense. Towne has been a loyal servant of the North American people. -He's fought for what he thought was right, and has exposed himself to -great dangers and personal vilification to do it. If he hasn't fully -understood the Psi-Highs' side of things, that's not a matter for us to -be vindictive about." He looked around the circle soberly. "The fact -remains that he's in the hands of a dangerous enemy, and it's our job -to save him if it can possibly be done." He nodded, and stepped into -the Security limousine. It honked its way through the crowd, and then -dipped down into the government tunnel that led to capitol hill and -Central Washington.</p> - -<p>He picked up a paper inside the car, and peered at it eagerly. The -full-color picture of the President's grave face stared out at him in -tri-di, and on either side pictures of Roberts and Towne. It was an old -picture of Towne, a flattering picture. Paul grinned as he read the -story rapidly:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="ph1">COUNCILMAN TOWNE KIDNAPPED FROM SECRET MEETING</p> - -<p class="ph1">President Reveals Alien Telepath at Large</p> - -<p>The President of the North American States revealed tonight in a -special press conference that Councilman Benjamin Towne (Federal -Isolationist, American Council) was kidnapped from a secret meeting -with Federal Security agents last night in what was described as the -first step in a plan for large-scale invasion of Earth by an Alien -race from another planet. The President reported that one Alien, -believed to be fully telepathic, has been at large in the country -since his landing near Gutenberg, Iowa, last May 26th.</p> - -<p>The Alien's presence was first detected by a loyal Psi-High citizen -of Des Moines and was reported immediately to the Federal Security -Commission. Robert R. Roberts, Chief of the FSC, has been active in -directing a nationwide dragnet to capture the Alien.</p> - -<p>Councilman Towne left his home last night at 11:00 P.M. in response -to a call ostensibly from Commissioner Roberts. It is believed that -the call was forged by the use of a dummy-film, and the Councilman was -reported missing when he did not return home. The two attachés who -accompanied him apparently have suffered severely from the encounter -with the Alien's telepathic powers, and were unable to be questioned -at the Hoffman Medical Center this morning.</p> - -<p>The President made special note of the excellent and selfless work of -certain Psi-High citizens during the past months, in the course of -a manhunt that has been shrouded in secrecy. The Alien's telepathic -powers invariably overcame the efforts of psi-negative individuals, -but through the efforts of the Psi-Highs, Commissioner Roberts has -expressed every hope of ending the search within days and securing -Councilman Towne's release.</p></div> - -<p>Faircloth flipped the page, glancing at the smaller headlines. An -interview with Dr. Abrams reporting the training program for Psi-Highs -in progress at the Hoffman Center; a long article, discussing the value -of Psi-High powers in combatting a ruthless telepathic alien force; -an article by Roberts, very carefully worded, explaining that if one -telepathic Alien had come to Earth, others could be expected. Roberts -expressed the opinion that human psi-positives were the nation's -strongest safeguard against such an invasion.</p> - -<p>Faircloth carefully folded the paper and spoke to the driver of the -limousine. The huge car rose at the next tunnel exit, and sped north -along the surface, then rose again. Paul waited, impatiently, and then -stepped out of the car at the given address. Five minutes later he was -holding Jean Sanders in his arms, while Robert Roberts sat chewing a -cigar at the far side of the room, looking vastly pleased with himself.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">IX</p> - -<p>"It was handled beautifully," Faircloth was saying. "The timing was -perfect, and there's no question but that it will go across." He looked -up at Jean. "You're sure you got everything across to him when he -contacted you again?"</p> - -<p>She nodded. Her face was still pale. "He turned me inside out. Cleaned -out everything I knew. I didn't resist. And then when we'd heard from -you he contacted me again, and I knew that we were right. He's been in -touch with me ever since. He'll be here soon."</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded to Roberts. "And you've arranged for the raids to -start up through New England?"</p> - -<p>Roberts nodded. He looked slightly high. "Everything's under control. -Marino has a ship ready for takeoff, and we have guns up near Eagle -Rock to blast it down. Ain't many people around in northern Ontario. -The pictures will be rather bad, probably, but after all—field -conditions, you know.</p> - -<p>"It will certainly look like the same sort of ship that landed out in -Iowa, and there won't be enough left when the blasting is over to tell -for sure whether the mangled mess that they drag out of it later is -man, Alien or oily rags. Those guns do a good job."</p> - -<p>Something touched Faircloth's mind, lightly, like a quiet knock. He -swung around, his eyes wide. "He's here," he said, and then he saw that -Jean already knew. "Tell him to come up."</p> - -<p>She nodded, and closed her eyes. Moments later they heard the footsteps -on the stairs, hesitant footsteps. Then the door swung open. They -stared at him for a moment, and then both men were wringing the man's -hand, offering him a glass, and he sank down on the cot they had -prepared for him, exhausted. "You must be dead," Paul said quietly.</p> - -<p>"I am, I am," said the man. "Mind if I lie down?"</p> - -<p>He was an ordinary looking man. He was slender, about thirty, and -very pale. A single-factor Psi-High had no distinguishing physical -characteristics; there really was no reason to expect a double-factor -psi-positive to look any different. But somehow they had half expected -a god-like creature, and he just looked like a frightened young man.</p> - -<p>His face was mild and rather sad. But his eyes were clear and sharp, -and the mouth was in a grim line, as he sank back on the couch. "I was -afraid you'd never spot it," he said. "For a while it looked as though -the whole thing would backfire. I mean when Towne was planning the -shift in the Council and trying to force an election. I was afraid—and -in the midst of that, you started your cat-and-mouse game—"</p> - -<p>Faircloth nodded. "We had no choice. We didn't know, and you didn't -dare reveal what you were doing at that point."</p> - -<p>The man shook his head. "It was better this way, much better. I planned -to kill Towne and then let you capture me. Counting on you to work -the propaganda right. Then nobody would have known that the Alien was -killed before he even got started."</p> - -<p>Faircloth smiled. "The computer even listed that as a possibility. Low -probability, but that was on the basis of what we knew. We hadn't even -considered it—yet every living Psi-High has known for a long time that -someday two Psi-Highs would have a child. We could only guess what the -child might be like."</p> - -<p>The man looked up at them sadly. "The child would be lonely beyond -words," he said. "He would be able to hide, yes. He would be able to -slow down his psi-powers in order to appear like an ordinary Psi-High. -He could never have revealed it. Not even to his closest friends."</p> - -<p>"And you knew that the real Alien had been killed?"</p> - -<p>"Almost as soon as it happened. He died in agony. He had a powerful -mind. He broadcast so wildly that every Psi-High within a hundred miles -must have gotten a shower. I was in Des Moines, and got the whole -picture clear as a bell. Went down and picked the details out of the -farmer's brain. He was too frightened to tell what he had done, and -nobody paid too much attention to him anyway." He shifted wearily on -the cot. "The Alien must have been working so hard to maintain his -disguise that the farmer caught him short. I knew it, and I knew what I -had to do. I went ahead and did it."</p> - -<p>"Of course Towne will fight," said Roberts later, when the man had -drifted off into a deep sleep. "He's clever, and resourceful. When -we 'rescue' him from Eagle Rock, he's going to know exactly what has -happened."</p> - -<p>Jean Sanders laughed happily. "I'd like to see him," she said. "I'd -like to see him helpless just once."</p> - -<p>Paul grinned. "You will. Things will be too far ahead of him by then. -And of course, there will be a physical and mental examination. It -will be a pity that the Alien left his mind in such a state of shock -and delusion but maybe after a few months of psychiatric treatment we -can find out the real reason why he hates Psi-Highs so much. And then, -perhaps, we'll have a powerful fighter on our side instead of against -us."</p> - -<p>He looked around at the others, his face grave. "We can't afford -to have the world against us again, not ever. <i>That</i> part of the -news broadcast was perfectly true. There <i>was</i> an Alien. He <i>was</i> -telepathic. And there will be others coming—maybe in a year, maybe in -five, or ten, or a hundred—" He leaned back wearily in the relaxer. -"We cashed in on it, this time, but we mustn't forget the parts that -are true."</p> - -<p>Jean smiled and put her arm around him. "They'll come, sometime—yes. -But when they come they'll find the Earth well guarded." Her eyes -drifted to the sleeping figure on the cot, and then came back to Paul's -and held them. "When they do come, there'll be others—like him—to -stop them."</p> - -<pre style='margin-top:6em'> -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRAIN SINNER *** - -This file should be named 63759-h.htm or 63759-h.zip - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/7/5/63759/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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