Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe March 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
[_Without stressing the technological aspects of the strange powers of the widely-talented ones--the psis, espers, telepaths which have been so painstakingly forecast by Stapledon, van Vogt, Weinbaum, Vance and others--Messieurs Peterson and Staub have whipped fantasy, forecasts and facts into a stirring and mentally titillating story of a too-imaginative mind._]
the psilent partner
by ... Edward S. Staub and John Victor Peterson
A pstrange probing mind that crossed pstate lines, the pseas, even high in the psky--to bring psomething new to Wall Pstreet.
* * * * *
_He had never cast his consciousness so far before. It floated highabove New York, perceiving in the noonday sky the thin, faint crescentof a waning moon. He wondered if one day he might cast his mind evento the moon, knew with a mounting exultation that his powers werealready great enough._
_Yet he was as afraid to launch it on that awesome transit as he stillwas to send it delving into the tight subway tunnels in the rock ofManhattan. Phobias were too real now. Perhaps it would be differentlater...._
_He was young, as a man, younger as a recognized developing psi. Ashis consciousness floated there above the bustling city, exultant,free, it sensed that back where his body lay a bell was ringing. Andthe bell meant it--his consciousness--must return now to thatbody...._
* * * * *
Dale V. Lawrence needed a lawyer urgently. Not that he hadn't a scoreof legal minds at his disposal; a corporation president must maintaina sizable legal staff. You can't build an industrial empire withouttreading on people's toes. And you need lawyers when you tread.
He sat behind his massive mahogany desk, a stocky, slightly-balding,stern-looking man of middle age who was psychosomatically creatinganother ulcer as he worried about the business transaction which hecould not handle personally because of the ulcer operation he wasabout to have. Neither the business transaction nor the operationcould be delayed.
He needed a particularly clever lawyer, one not connected with thecorporation. Not that he had committed or that he contemplatedcommitting a crime. But the eyes of the law and the minds of the psisof the government's Business Ethics Bureau were equally keen. Anyonein the business of commercially applied atomics was automatically andimmediately investigated in any proposed transaction as soon as BEBhad knowledge thereof. There was still the fear that someone somewheremight attempt, secretly, to build a war weapon again.
Lawrence had an idea, a great, burning, impossible-to-discard idea.Lawrence Applied Atomics, Inc., had been his first great idea--theidea that had made him a multi-millionaire. But through some deviousfinancing he had lost control of the corporation. And although hisideas invariably realized millions, the other major stockholders werebecoming cautious about risking their profits. Overly cautious, hethought. And on this new idea he knew they would never support him.They'd consider it a wild risk. He could blame BEB with its psis forthat. BEB was too inquisitive. A business man just couldn't take adecent gamble any longer.
The real estate firm in Los Angeles was secretly securing options fromindividual landowners. Fortunately the firm employed a psi, one of thefew known psis not in government service. Lawrence had wondered whythis psi was not working for the government, but decided the 'why'didn't matter if there were positive results.
Lawrence knew a little about psis. He knew, of course, what wascommonly known--that they possessed wide and very varied talents, thatthey were categorized as plain psis, psi-espers, esper-psis, telepathsand other things. They weren't numerous; the Business Ethics Bureauwhich employed at least sixty percent of the known psis showed thirtyon the payroll for this fiscal year.
Despite their rumored emotional instability, he knew that they wereclever and he would steer clear of them in the present stages of histransaction. Although his idea wasn't unethical, the so far closelykept secret would be out if BEB investigated. Then anybody could cutin. BEB advertised whatever it did on its video show, "YourDeveloping Earth."
So, he needed a lawyer who could act for him personally, now, andsteer his project clear of the government service psis. But where tofind a psis....
* * * * *
Of course! Bob Standskill! Standskill had helped him once years beforewhen he had had that trouble with the Corporation Stock Control Boardover a doubtful issue of securities he had floated to build MojaveCity out of desert wastes. Without Standskill's techniques he neverwould have put that issue across. Standskill could handle this ifanyone could.
Lawrence reached to the visiphone, punched the button sequence ofStandskill's office number. The bell rang interminably before a ratherbored young voice said, "Offices of Standskill and Rich,Attorneys-at-Law."
"I know," Lawrence said harshly. "I don't button wrong numbers. IsStandskill there? And where's your courtesy? There's no visual."
The picture came in then. Lawrence caught a flash of long, skinny legsgoing down behind the desk at the other end of the circuit; then hesaw a most remarkable thing--the open collar of the young man's shirtseemed suddenly to button itself and the knot of the gaudy tie totighten and all the while the fellow's hands were lying immobile onthe desk!
_Impossible!_ Lawrence thought. _I'm cracking up! Too many worriesabout the psis ... I think I see them everywhere!_
As the youth gulped as though the tie was knotted too tightly,Lawrence was sure that he saw the knot relax itself!
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Standskill's on vacation and Mr. Rich isin court. May I help you, sir, or take a message?"
Undoubtedly the fellow had recognized him from news fotos.
"Well, who are you, the office boy?"
A frown of annoyance crossed the young man's thin, dark features. Hesnapped, "Are corporation presidents exempt from common courtesy? Myname is Black--Martin J. Black. I'm not connected with this firm. Ianswered as a courtesy. Shall we disconnect?"
Lawrence was silent for a moment. He thought of the shirt-tie businessand said, "You're a trainee psi, aren't you? A prospective servicepsi?"
"I'm afraid so. I wish I weren't. It's not a pleasant prospect."
"What do you mean?"
"Would you like to probe minds for a living? And it has its otherdrawbacks. You can't live normally and you'll have very few friends.Unfortunately no two psis are alike, which makes the job morecomplicated. I'm un-normal, abnormal, subnormal or some other normalthey haven't prefixed yet."
"Any special talents?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Rather young," Lawrence mused. Then said, "Are you economicallystable?"
The young man hesitated, then said hastily, "Oh, yes, of course.Economically, yes. Somewhat more stable than most, I think. I'm infinal training now. The legal phase comes last, you know."
"Then you're not committed yet? You've not taken the Oath ofAnterhine?"
"No. I won't until the training is done. Wish I didn't have to then."
"And your training?"
"Complete except for criminal psychology."
"Would you like to make a hundred thousand dollars?"
Black said, "Your firm bought out Black Controlled Atomics, remember?That was my dad, and that was the end for him." He hesitated. "Let'ssay I'm vaguely interested. What's your proposition?"
Lawrence was silent for a mom
ent. At length he said, "Being a psi yourultimate destiny is to aid in the development of the world whether youlike to look forward to it or not. But would you not like to seedesert areas developed through applied atomics as Mojave City, SanupPlateau City and Quijotoa City were?"
"Certainly," Black said quickly. "It's in my blood. The old man didwell at such developments; in fact, he started Quijotoa. Sometimes Iwish Standskill hadn't liquidated our estate, but my mother's willmade it mandatory."
"How much do you know about Standskill's techniques?"
"I'm a psi," Black said. "I can find out anything I want to know."
"Where _is_ Standskill?"
"Paris. His first vacation in years. Going to be away
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