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you either have two minds or the most unusual single mind in the galaxy."
("He was right the first time.")
I know, but what do we do?
("Play dumb, of course. We wanted to get out of microbiology and into psych this
may be our chance.")
Dalt mulled this over. Finally, "This is all very interesting, Dr. Webst, but quite
meaningless as far as my professional life is concerned." That should put the conversation
on the track we want.
"That's what I'd like to discuss with you," Webst replied. "If I can get a release from
Dr. Hyne, would you be interested in spending some time with my department assisting
us with some experiments?"
"Just what kind of experiments?"
Webst came around his desk to stand before Dalt. "I've been trying to find a use for
psionics in psychotherapy. We are daily trying to probe the minds of these so-called
horrors cases in an effort to find out why they don't respond to conventional therapy. I
have no doubt that it's the path of the future all we need is the right technology and the
right psi talents.
"Remember Sally Ragna? The girl who hides in the corner and no known
psychotherapy can reach? That's the kind of patient I'm after. We've developed an
instrument to magnify psi powers, and right now a man with one per cent of your
aptitude is trying to get a look inside her mind." Webst suddenly stiffened and his eyes
burned into Dalt. "Right now! Would you come over to Big Blue right now and give it a
try? All I want you to do is take a quick look just go in and out, no more!"
("This is our chance,") Pard urged. ("Take it!") He was obviously anxious to give it a
try.
"All right," said Dalt, who had a few reservations lurking in the back of his mind.
"Might as well give it a try and see if anything at all can be done."
In Big Blue they seated him before Sally Ragna, who wasn't cringing now, due to
heavy sedation. The psi booster Webst had mentioned, a gleaming silver disk, was
slung above them.
This is a waste of time, Dalt told Pard.
("I don't think so. I've learned one thing, anyway: That machine of Webst's isn't worth
a damn I'm not getting a bit of boost from it: But I don't think I'll need it. I've made a
few probes using the same technique I played with on the liner and I'm meeting with
very little resistance. I'm sure I can get in. One thing, though ... I'm going to have to take
you with me.") I don't know if I like that.
("It's necessary, I'm afraid. I'll need every ounce of reserve function to stay oriented
once I get in there, and I may even have to draw on your meager psi power.")
Dalt hesitated. The thought of confronting madness on its own ground was deeply
frightening. His stomach lurched as he replied, Okay, let's do it. But be careful!
("I'm frightened too, friend.")
The thought flashed across Dalt's mind that he had never before considered the
possibility of Pard being frightened of anything. Concerned, yes ... but frightened
The thought disappeared as his view of Sally Ragna and the room around them
swirled away and he entered the place where Sally was spending her life:
/countless scintillating pinpoints of light that somehow gave off no illumination poured into
treelike shapes/ a sky of violet shot through with crimson flashes that throw shadows in paradoxical
directions/an overall dimness that half obscures living fungus forms that crawl and leap and hang
from the pointillistic trees/ /moving forward now/
/past a cube of water with schools of fish each made of two opposing tails swimming forever in
stasis/mountains crumble to the right/breach-born ahead is a similar range/which disappears as they
step off a sudden precipice and float through a dank forest and are surrounded by peering, glowing,
unblinking yellow eyes/ /descent/
/to a desert road stretching emptily and limitlessly ahead/and suddenly a town has sprung up
around them, its buildings built at impossible angles/a stick man walks up and smiles as his form
fills out and then swells, bloats, and ruptures, spewing mounds of writhing maggots upon the
ground/the face and body begin to dissolve but the mouth remains, growing larger and nearer/it
opens to show its double rows of curved teeth /and growing still larger it moves upon them,
enveloping them, closing upon them with a SNAP/
Dalt next found himself on the floor with Webst and a technician bending over him.
But it was Pard who awakened him.
("Get up, Steve! Now! We've got to go back in there as soon as possible!")
Dalt rose slowly to his feet and brushed his palms. "I'm all right," he told Webst. "Just
slipped out of the chair." And to Pard: You must be kidding!
("I assure you, I am not. That was a jolting experience, and if we don't go back
immediately, we'll probably build up a reflex resistance that will keep us out in the
future.")
That's fine with me.
("But we can do something for this girl; I'm sure of it.")
Dalt waved Webst and his technician away. I'm going to try again," he muttered, and
repositioned himself before the girl. Okay, Pard. I'm trusting you.
/and then they were in a green-fogged bog as ochre hands reached up for them from the rank
marsh grasses to try to pull them into the quicksand/
/the sun suddenly appeared overhead but was quickly muffled by the fog/it persisted, however,
and slowly the fog began to thin and burn away/
/the land tilted then and the marsh began to drain/the rank grasses began to wither and die in the
sun/slowly a green carpet of neatly trimmed grass unrolled about them, covering and smothering
the ever-clutching hands/ [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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