To Ride Pegasus
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Серия: Talents #1
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «To Ride Pegasus». Краткое содержание книги:
“Sorry about that, mac, but someone said stop!”
The abrupt surcease of the parapsychic was recorded on the graph, as was the minor activity of mopping up the spill.
“Hey, my pants are dry!”
“Are there any other questions?” asked Henry, winking surreptitiously to the grinning Ralph.
“Yes,” and a heavy set man towards the rear of the room stood slowly to his feet. “Coffee vending machines handle this sort of service, an idiot can drive a nail; granted a waldo is used for delicate sterile operations, any long hair plays guitar…not all at once, admittedly, but how would someone like Ralph be employed? And incidentally, I know his background.”
“You might say.” Henry said with a smile, “that Ralph is a real product of his background of reform school and correctional institution. That’s how he acquired his Talent. Society wasn’t ready for Ralph or his Talent. We are.
“We’ve demonstrated here that Ralph can do a variety of things simultaneously: tasks requiring multiple action such as assembling coffee implements and teleporting them to the proper destination, as well as exercises requiring a certain strength and/or precision.
“However, Ralph has a limited range. We’ve duplicated today’s fun and games over a distance of half a mile, but not further with any precision or strength. Ralph is not a superman. That’s the first point I wish to impress on you. He has a
Talent but it’s a finite one, suitable for certain, rather limited use. He would be a profitable investment for someone like yourself. Mr. Gregory, for precision assembly under vacuum, sterile or radiation conditions.
“I don’t say that Ralph is a totally reformed character at all,” and Henry grinned at Ralph, “but he is now able to purchase legally the things he used to heist. He is subject, and he knows it, to the mental examination of a strong telepath. He also thoroughly enjoys his present occupation.”
“You bet, mac.” And the scathing look Ralph bent on the audience left no doubts that the little man delighted in disconcerting the men of distinction, rank and position.
“If you can’t cure ‘em, recruit ‘em,” Henry added.
“Are you implying, Mr. Darrow, that half the population of jails and mental institutions are peopled by your misunderstood parapsychics?”
“Not at all. I admit we’re testing many so-called misfits to see if thwarted or yes, misunderstood, paranormal Talents are not partly responsible for their maladjustment. But that does not mean they are all graduates of institutions.
“Talent, gentlemen, can include something as simple as being a born mechanic.
We’ve all known or heard of the guy who just listens to the sound of an engine and knows what’s wrong with it. Or the plumber who can dowse the exact location of a break in water pipes. Or the pyromaniac who “knows” when and where a fire will break out and has so often been accused of starting it; the woman whose hands ease a fever or soothe a pain, the worker who knows instinctively what the boss needs, the person who can always find what’s been mislaid or lost. These are everyday, but valid, evidences of the parapsychic Talent. These are the people we want to include in our Centers-not just the more dramatic mind-readers and clairvoyants. The Talented are rarely supermen and women, just people who operate on a different wavelength. Employ them in the proper capacity and utilize their Talents to your advantage.”
“Besides money, what do you want from us, Darrow?”
“Doctor Abbey, isn’t it? From you and your colleagues all over the world, I want the public admission that Talent has left the tearoom and entered the laboratory. We have scientific evidence that the parapsychic faculty exists and can be used, at will, with predictable result. Science, gentlemen, by definition, is any skill that reflects a precise application of principles. The principle in Ralph’s case is moving objects without artificial aid.”
“I might buy the teleportation, Darrow,” replied Doctor Abbey, slightly contemptuous, “but go back to the tearoom a minute. Give me an example of the science behind precognition.”
“I knew you’d ask that, Doctor Abbey. And I predict that you will receive a favorable answer to your latest inquiry into the problem-“ Henry raised his hand to suppress Abbey’s exclamation, “I’m discreet enough, Doctor Abbey-into the problem you’re investigating with Doctors Schwarz,
Vosogin and Clasmire. That, Doctor Abbey, is predictable, scientific and accurate enough-since your correspondence with the three men is a closely guarded secret-to be convincing. Right?
From the stunned expression on Dr. Abbey’s face as he sank into his chair, Darrow knew he was right and Abbey was convinced.
“Now,” Henry asked the audience in general, “all of you have had problems which I believe some of our Talents can solve. What am I offered?”
“Why, after fourteen years and nine rent increases-which I didn’t protest by the way-will you not renew my lease?”
“Mister Darrow, I’ve been told that your lease is not renewable and that’s what I’ve been told to tell you.”
“How come the ‘Mister Darrow,’ Frank? Now look, I’ve paid my rent right on the button for fourteen years. I’ve had no more than legitimate redecorating, why am
I not able to renew my lease?” Henry knew the problem, had foreseen this situation, but he was human enough to like to see people squirm. Particularly if it might let in a little wisdom and understanding of Talent.
Frank Hummel looked very uncomfortable.
“C’mon, Frank. You know. Don’t try to kid me you don’t.”
Frank looked up with a miserable expression in his eyes. “And that’s it, Hank.
That’s just it. You do know. You know too goddamned much and the other tenants are scared.”
Henry threw back his head and roared with laughter. “No one’s conscience is clear? My God, Frank, do they really think I know or care, for that matter, about their petty intrigues and affairs?” Then he saw he’d offended Frank and wished he were a telepath, not a precog. “Frank, I ‘see’ no more than I did when I used astrology to focus my
Talent. No one was afraid of me when I was just a star-gazer.”
Frank did squirm at Henry’s choice of phrase because that’s how the man thought of Henry.
“I can’t read minds,” Henry went on, “and come to that, Frank, I don’t really know what’s going on under my nose. My Talent is not for individuals: it’s for mass futures. Oh, yes, important individuals who will affect the lives of millions. But not if Mrs. Walters in 4-C is going to have a baby…not unless I have cast her individual horoscope…and she’s too scared of her husband to come to me for that.” Henry sighed for even that piece of common sense insight was now being misconstrued by the apprehensive real estate agent.
“Look, everyone in the building knows Walters’s opinion of me, and how scared she is of him. That takes no Talent at all, Frank. And it takes no Talent either to know that Walters is probably one of the prime instigators in getting me evicted.”
“You’re not being evicted, Mr. Darrow.”
“Oh no?”
“No! It’s just that your lease is not being renewed.”
“How much of an extension can I have to find new quarters? You know how tight the housing situation is in Jerhattan.”
Frank looked everywhere but at Henry.
“Frank…Frank? Frank, look at me,” and reluctantly, hesitantly, the man obeyed. “Frank, you’ve known me for fourteen years. Why, suddenly, are you afraid of me?” Henry knew the answer but he wanted Frank to admit it. One man, one Frank Hummel, wouldn’t change the struggle of the Talented for acceptance but it might change one other mind now, three next week. Every ally was valuable. And to have allies one had to admit to enemies.