The Electronic Mind Reader

by John Blaine

  Hartson Brant went to get her while the young people started to deluge Steve with questions. He held up a hand in protest. “Wait until the whole family’s here, please.”

  In a moment Mrs. Brant had joined them and greeted Steve cordially. Then the young agent got serious.

  “I was only partly joking when I said I wanted to take over Spindrift. I really do, in a way. Here’s why. We’ve had a team of scientists working on a project that’s of the greatest importance to national defense.

  There were four in the team, alltopnotchers . Hartson, I’m sure you’ll know some, if not all of them, by reputation.”

  Steve removed the ammunition clip from his submachine gun and sighted through the barrel, then let the bolt ram home with a sharp click. “It was my job to guard the project.

  As you know, I had to go to theVirgin Islands , but I left one of my best men in charge, and he did his job thoroughly. I’m satisfied about that. No unknown person has been near the project office. And no unknowns have been in close contact with any of the team. Yet, two of them are in the hospital.”

  “Sick or wounded?”Scotty asked.

  “Neither, really. We don’t know what’s wrong. Their minds suddenly ceased to

  function.”

  Hartson Brant leaned forward. “You mean they’re unconscious?”

  Steve shook his head. “Not in the usual sense. It’s as though all their thoughts and memories had suddenly been scrambled. Did you ever see a teletype machine in

  operation, particularly one that suddenly went haywire?”

  Rick had. “The news machine did that over at the Whiteside Morning Record. It was typing out clear copy,then suddenly there wasn’t anything but gibberish.”

  “That’s it,” Steve agreed. “And it’s the best analogy I can think of for what happened to the two scientists. When a teletype goes haywire, one moment everything is clear and perfect, the next everything is scrambled. All the letters are there but they no longer make words. The scientists talk words-common, everyday words-but the words don’t make thoughts or sentences. Just sounds.”

  “How awful,” Mrs. Brant murmured. Barby looked horrified.

  Rick searched his memory for anything similar he had ever read about or heard of, but there was nothing. From the expressions on their faces, his father and Scotty were equally puzzled.

  “Well, even though I have absolutely no evidence of foul play, I decided not to take chances,” Steve went on. “I got one of the scientists to go along with my plan. He shares my concern, simply on the basis that no known disease would affect human beings in this way, and two scientists of the same team being stricken with an unknown ailment is too much coincidence.”

  “He’s wise,” Hartson Brant agreed.

  “He also has a family. The other scientist does not. He’s a crusty old bachelor who thinks the whole thing is nonsense and insists on staying right where he is.”

  “How do we fit in?” Scotty asked. “You said you needed all of us.”

  “That’s right. I want to relocate the project at Spindrift.”

  “Using the co-operative scientist as the basis for a new staff?” Rick inquired.

  “Yes. We went through some of the most complicated maneuvers you ever saw to get him out of Washington with his family. I’m certain his movements cannot be traced. So his presence here will be a complete secret. But it isn’t just the scientist. I’m also asking you to take in his family, consisting of his wife and daughter.”

  “Of course we will,” Mrs. Brant said warmly.

  Steve turned to Barby. “I think you’ll enjoy it, because the girl is just your age, and she’s a very friendly and pleasant young lady.”

  Barby looked pleased and excited. “What’s her name?”

  “Janice. Janice Miller.”

  “Is the scientist Dr. Walter Miller by any chance?” Hartson Brant asked quickly.

  “Exactly right.Do you know him?”

  “Not personally. We’ve never met, but a few years ago we carried on a very extensive correspondence on the subject of energy levels in nuclear isomers.”

  Steve grinned. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re talking about. But I’m glad you’ll have something in common. Will you and your staff join him to make up a new project team?”

  “I think we can,” Hartson Brant said thoughtfully. “Some of us can put aside what we’re doing. I’ll have to know a little more about the project, of course.”

  The federal agent nodded. “Dr. Miller can give you the details personally.”

  Rick expressed a thought that had been on his mind. “We’re sort of isolated here, but we’re certainly not cut off from the world. Our friends visit us, and we go to the mainland almost every day. How do we explain who these people are? I’m sure you don’t want their names to get out.”

  “I’ll give you a cover story. Their name is Morrison. You met them through Dr. Ernst while you were in the Virgin Islands. They were very hospitable, and you’re simply returning their hospitality. They know the Islands well from vacations spent there, so no one will trip them up on details.”

  “How about details of our trip?”Scotty asked.

  “They’ve been briefed thoroughly, by me. You can check them and fill in any missing details.”

  Barby giggled. “I’m glad that you didn’t have any doubts about our taking them in, Steve.”

  “Steve knows we’re available any time he needs us, and for anything we can give,”

  Rick said.

  Steve smiled his thanks. “Well, now you can guess why I showed up with a hunk of

  artillery under my wing. I had to be sure there wasn’t a reception party waiting. You never can tell about information leaks, no matter how careful you are, so I landed at the back end of the island with a squad of men and we went over the place with a fine-tooth comb. I didn’t walk in until I was certain there wasn’t a stranger on the island-including strangers you might not have known about.”

  Hartson Brant rose. “Well, I think we’ve settled all initial details except where we put the Millers-or rather, the Morrisons. Can you bring them tomorrow?”

  Steve rose, too. “As Rick and Barby said, I didn’t have any doubts.How about tonight?”

  “Tonight!”Barby gasped. “Are they here?”

  “Almost.They’re on a cutter offshore. If it isn’t convenient, I can keep them overnight.”

  “Of course it’s convenient,” Mrs. Brant said firmly. “We’ll put Mr. and Mrs. Morrison in John Gordon’s room. He’s still out West. And well take the spare twin bed out of Hobart Zircon’s room and put Janice in with Barby. Bring them ashore right away, Steve. Barby and I will get busy, and Rick and Scotty can move the spare bed.”

  “Wonderful.” Steve walked out to the porch and coughed twice. Rick hurried to his side just in time to see one of the trees in the orchard yield up a dark shadow that turned out to be a Coast Guard petty officer, carbine at the ready and a walkie-talkie slung over his shoulder.

  “Let me have your horn, Smitty,” Steve requested.

  The coastguardman gave Rick a curious look as he handed Steve the phone.

  The agent said, “Nevada, this is Texas. Deliver the goods.”

  The reply was, “Texas, this is Nevada. The package is in the mail.”

  Steve handed the phone back to the coastguard-man and ordered, “Get the boys together and return to the ship, Smitty. Repeat their instructions. They don’t know where they’ve been, and they don’t know what they’ve been doing.”

  Smitty grinned.“Aye-aye, sir. That won’t be hard. None of us really know where we’ve been or what we’ve been doing.”

  “Life is easier that way,” Steve said. “Shove off, now.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”The guardsman faded off into the night.

  “Let’s move furniture,” Steve suggested.

  For the next few moments the house was a flurry of activity. Rick and Scotty

  dismantled the twin bed in Zircon’s room,
explaining only to the big scientist that unexpected company had arrived. Zircon, engrossed in a theoretical problem, scarcely noticed.

  Rythe time Mrs. Brant was satisfied with arrangements and had counted the towels for the third time, Steve called from downstairs that the boat was arriving.

  Rick, Scotty, and Barby ran to Steve’s side and walked with him toward the landing where the Spindrift boats were moored. Dismal had paid little attention to the proceedings, but now, fearful of being left behind, the pup raced ahead of the group.

  The boat carrying the Morrisons-for so Rick was already conditioning himself to think of them-was

  The coastguardman gave Rick a curious look approaching the dock. As the group hurried to meet the unexpected guests, two coastguardmen leaped from the big motor whaleboat and made it fast.

  Dismal got there first. He barked furiously, trying to frighten off the invaders, then his barks suddenly changed to an anguished howl as a new voice joined in the racket. It was a feline voice, and a highly indignant one.

  “Great grandma’s ghost!”Steve exclaimed. “I forgot to tell you they have a cat!”

  Dismal shot by them, followed by an enormous creature with glowing eyes that yowled at the top of its lungs, in what was probably very coarse language to anyone who spoke cat talk. Dismal had at last met his match, and was beating an inglorious retreat.

  Just as Rick was about to take up the chase and rescue his pup, the cat decided to break off the engagement. The ruffled fur subsided slightly as the animal turned from the chase and approached the four who had been hurrying to the pier. In the beam of Steve’s flashlight Rick saw that the cat was a huge blue Persian, and though he knew little about cats, he recognized that this was an aristocrat of its kind.

  The Persian gave a meow of greeting, then walked up and rubbed against Barby’s legs.

  It gave out a noise that reminded Rick of a wood rasp rubbing over a piece of broken pine. The cat was purring!

  Barby had stamped her foot angrily at the sight of Dismal being forced to retreat to the house, but the cat was too much for her. “You beautiful thing!” she exclaimed, and picked the creature up. It responded by purring louder.

  Rick grinned. On the pet level, at least, the Morrison invasion was off to a fast start. He hoped the incident wasn’t symbolic.

  CHAPTER III

  A SystemWithin a System

  When Rick came down to breakfast the next morning, the day was already hours old for his father, Steve Ames, Julius Weiss, Parnell Winston, and Dr. Walter Miller alias Morrison. The scientists had been closeted in the library with Steve since dawn, their talks interrupted only by Mrs. Brant serving coffee to the group. Steve, too, had remained overnight.

  Barby and Scotty were around the island somewhere with Janice. Mrs. Brant and Mrs.

  Morrison were in the kitchen, getting acquainted and finding that they had friends in common.

  It wasn’t that Rick had slept late; he was on time. Everyone else had gotten up early.

  Rick told himself that he was the only calm member of the family, but underneath he was a little chagrined. If he had arisen earlier, he might have been able to take part in the talks now going on in the library.

  The Morrisons had been so tired from the strain of getting out ofWashington

  undetected, and from the trip in the confined quarters of the Coast Guard cutter that they had gone to bed almost immediately.

  Dr. Morrison turned out to be a tall man with a kind, tired face, steel-rimmed glasses, and a shock of curly white hair. Mrs. Morrison was a pleasant, stylish woman whose reaction was a mixture of pure pleasure at finding herself in the comfortable Brant home and embarrassment at the circumstances that had forced her to impose herself on strangers. Rick had liked both the Morrisons immediately.

  His reaction to Janice was favorable, too. He admitted that she was a remarkably pretty girl, as dark as Barby was fair, and of about the same height and slimness. She hadn’t said a great deal, and he decided at once that she was shy. Barby had taken to her

  immediately, and she to Barby. The last thing Rick had heard before falling asleep was the two of them talking and giggling in the room down the hall.

  He walked into the dining room, hoping he wasn’t too late for breakfast, and stopped short, stifling a laugh at the sight that met his eyes.

  The Morrisons’ cat, whose name was Shah, was crouched on one of the dining-room chairs.Dismal was sniffing around beneath the chair, obviously looking for the cat. As Rick watched, Dismal gave up the search and walked from under the chair. Instantly he was batted on the nose from above by a paw that moved with supersonic speed. Rick laughed as Dismal gave a cry of pure frustration and headed for the kitchen at a trot. The cat had been playing, since the blow was struck with claws sheathed. If Shah had wanted to hurt the pup, raking claws could have torn deep furrows.

  Rick stroked the silky fur and Shah purred hoarsely. He hadn’t had much experience with cats, but he liked this one. The Persian had a sense of humor. Rick went into the kitchen and consoled Dismal, after bidding good morning to his mother and Mrs.

  Morrison. The pup rolled over on his back and played dead, his only trick. The boy scratchedDismal’s stomach until the pup’s hind leg flailed in delighted ecstasy.

  “Am I too late for breakfast?” Rick asked his mother.

  “Of course not.We’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  Rick wandered out to the screened front porch that was the Brants’ summer living room.

  The ocean was calm this morning. He searched the horizon for some sign of the Coast Guard cutter. There was none, which didn’t surprise him. Steve was too old a hand to attract attention to Spindrift by having a government craft waiting offshore.

  Barby, Jan, and Scotty were walking from the long, low gray laboratory building on the southeast corner of the island, past the place where the Sky Wagon, his plane, usually was staked down. His landing strip ran along the seaward edge of the island, from the lab building to the front of the house. However, the plane still carried the pontoons with which it had been fitted for theVirgin Islands trip, and for the time being, it was drawn ashore at Pirate’s Field.

  Presently the trio joined him on the porch. Jan smiled and said good morning in her soft voice. Scotty said, “I thought you were going to sleep all day.”

  Barby came to Rick’s defense.“He was tired. After all, it’s hard work to get wonderful ideas like the one he had last night.”

  Apparently Barby had told Jan all about it, because the girl asked, “Can I be a member of the Megabuck Mob?” There seemed to be just a touch of wistfulness about the way she added, “You always seem to be having adventures of one sort or another at Spindrift.”

  Rick answered, “Please don’t believe everything Barby tells you. She exaggerates, sort of.”

  “I do not,” Barby answered emphatically. “We do have adventures. Besides, Jan already knew about some of them, because she read about Spindrift in the papers. And she’s already a member of the Mob, because I invited her!”

  Rick interpreted Barby’s glare correctly. It said that if he wasn’t gracious and nice to their new guest, he would have his sister to reckon with, and, as he knew full well, she was no mean adversary.

  “Fine,” he said. “Welcome to the Mob, Miss Morrison. We’ll assign you the subject of economic history.”

  “Jan, please,” she answered, then smiled shyly. “But couldn’t I have another subject?

  I’m just not the type to know much about economics, I guess.”

  ‘That’s just the point,” Scotty explained.

  Barby had a serious look on her pert face. “Of course Rick’s idea about stealing a million from quiz shows was just a joke. But, Rick, you gave me an idea-if you’ll cooperate.”

  “It depends on the idea,” Rick answered warily.

  “Oh, don’t be so cautious. I’m not trying to trap you into taking me on any trips.” Barby referred to the promise she had once wangled out of her br
other that she could go on the next expedition, a promise that had gotten the Spindrift young people entangled in a hazardous adventure in the far-offSouth Seas .

  Rick perched on the arm of a sofa. “Okay. Let’s have it.”

  “Well, I was thinking about the Harvest Moon Show at school.” She explained, in an aside to Jan, “Every October the high school puts on a big variety show in the city auditorium to raise money for the school athletic fund. Rick said he could make me a radio receiver that I could wear in my hair.”

  “He can,” Scotty interjected. “Remember the control radios we made for the Tractosaur? He could make one for you the same way.”

  The Tractosaur was a “thinking bulldozer” the Spindrift scientists had designed.

  Barby continued, “I know you can make a small transmitter that will fit in your pocket, because that’s all the Tractosaur control was, really. Well, if I wore a receiver that no one could see, and if you carried a transmitter that no one could see, we could put on the most wonderful mind-reading act in history!”

  Rick’s quick imagination elaborated on Barby’s words. It was a great idea! He could work among the audience, while Barby sat blindfolded on the stage. He would choose a person in the audience and ask for something from wallet or purse, and whisper: “Please let me have your driver’s license. Thank you. Mr. Charles Rogers, is it? ... Where is3218

  Newark Drive ? . . . Oh, over by the airfield. Well, Mr. Rogers, let me see if I can transmit all this information telepathically to my sister.” Then he would hold up the driver’s license and say loudly, “What have I here?” And Barby, who had heard every whispered word, would answer. He would coax the information out of her, and the audience would be baffled.

  “Sensational,” he complimented her. “We’ll do it.”

  “Brant and Brant,” Scotty intoned, “the marvels of the universe!See the living proof of the science of parapsychology!Mystifying, terrifying, a scientific phenomenon without parallel that has baffled the leading minds of the world!” Scotty’s quick mind also had caught the implications of Barby’s idea.

  Jan Morrison was a scientist’s daughter, too, and printed electronic circuits were no mystery to her. She said enthusiastically, “You could even do mind reading at a distance.”