Mute by Piers Anthony Page A

He broke off as he fended off another kick.
    “There are distinctions between precogs,” the Captain said, “and between the specific and the general. Our precog says ‘If you take off now, you will have trouble.’ So we avoid trouble by postponing takeoff. We are shifting, as it were, to an alternate reality. Your precog may have given you a short-range, highly specific reading; much greater definition is possible when scope and time are limited. Beyond a few hours, there is no such thing as predestination; advance knowledge can always change it, with certain gross exceptions such as supernovas and the temper tantrums of women.”
    “Thank you; that makes absolute sense,” Knot said, appreciating Finesse’s glare.
    “I regret to advise you that our clairvoyant consultant reports that there is a person on this vessel who is apt to cause a mishap,” the Captain said. “It seems this is what is stymieing our precog clearance. We shall have to make a telepathic verification of passenger motives.”
    “You can’t do that!” Finesse exclaimed. “Invasion of privacy.”
    “I’m afraid the welfare of the majority pre-empts personal privilege,” the Captain said. “I can quote the applicable clause of the space-flight code if—”
    “That depends.” She fished a card from her purse and held it up where the holo-Captain could see it. “My companions and I will be verified last. If you don’t locate your culprit before reaching us, we’ll leave the ship.”
    The Captain looked at the card. “Of course,” he said equably. “We’ll start with clairvoyant analysis, and use the telepath in a secondary capacity.” He faded out.
    Knot nudged Finesse. “That’s a magic card?”
    “Yes,” she said, showing it to him. Printed on it were the large letters CC, with a code pattern.
    Your nature must not be known, Hermine explained.
    Will it be discovered? Ask Mit.
    Mit says no. Not here. Finesse has been able to keep the secret.
    Even from the station clairvoyant?
    Yes.
    Knot shook his head in wonder. Clairvoyant versus precog, or vice versa, or whatever. How could one override the other?
    He told you, Hermine thought. The specific pre-empts the general. We are very specific.
    The holo-Captain reappeared. “Please rise and file past my image separately,” he said. “Our clairvoyant is with me now, and will halt the person who complicates our voyage. The faster we accomplish this identification, the faster we shall be or our way. I know none of you wish to be delayed any longer than necessary.”
    “Oh, I don’t mind,” Knot said, before Finesse elbowed him in a rib.
    “I haven’t had this much adventure in years!” the man behind Knot said happily. “What a thrill if I’m the one!”
    The people formed a crude line and began marching past the image. One little boy poked a finger at it. “No, there’s nothing there,” the Captain said, smiling. “By law, I cannot mingle with passengers. That is one of the safety precautions CC enforces. Should I catch some loathsome disease and have my brain turn to jelly and steer the ship into a black hole, you passengers would be most unhappy with me. Especially if it hadn’t been precogged.”
    There was a general chuckle, as the passengers adapted to the situation and felt more at home with the joking Captain. Knot and Finesse took their places at the end of the line. “What if it is us?” Knot asked.
    “It isn’t. Hermine checked with Mit.”
    These were really useful animals! “Who is it, then?”
    She turned her green eyes upon his in silent rebuke.
    You talk too much, Hermine explained. We don’t want others to know our natures.
    Then tell me privately because I don’t care who knows our natures, at the moment. Who is it?
    The woman in green. She doesn’t know it yet.
    Knot looked at the woman. She was young and fairly pretty, with her hair done in an elegant bouffant, and displayed a prominent bosom. That should be interesting.
    No, it is