David's tone now. “Modern science and technology is in the process of changing our world in fundamental ways. It could easily be destroying us. Just look at the depletion of the ozone layer and the effects of acid rain. Most of our thinking on the subject is straight out of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the age of the machine. That kind of outmoded thinking has to change because we desperately need new perspectives on man and nature. That's the task of philosophy.”
“And you think you can change our outmoded thinking?” Hatch asked.
“Well, maybe not yours,” David admitted sarcastically. “But I have hopes for other people, like Jessie.”
Sensing disaster, Jessie rushed in to divert the conversation. “David, I was absolutely thrilled when Aunt Glenna told me you'd been accepted at Parkington. I'm so pleased for you.”
“Parkington's one of those fancy private colleges back East someplace, isn't it?” Hatch picked up a chunk of bread, took a bite that showed his strong white teeth, and leaned his elbows on the counter as he chewed. “Expensive.”
“Well, yes, as a matter of fact.” David shot an uncertain glance at Jessie, as if asking for guidance.
“David,” she said firmly, “tell me something. Do you know anything about a group that calls itself DEL? It stands for Dawn's Early Light. Some sort of environmental extremist group, I think. They supposedly recruited some students from Butterfield College. Did you ever see any of them on campus?”
“DEL?” David looked thoughtful, an expression he did very well. “Yeah, I think I did hear something about it a few months ago. Led by a so-called climatologist, I think. I didn't pay too much attention. They held a couple of small group lectures and talked to some people, but they didn't hang around long. We get that kind of thing all the time around a college campus. Why?”
“I'm looking for a student at Butterfield who apparently joined DEL. Her name is Susan Attwood. Know her?”
“No. What year?”
“Sophomore, I believe.”
David shook his head again. “Haven't run into her.”
Jessie sighed. “I suppose it was too much to hope that you might have known her.”
“There are a few thousand students at Butterfield,” David pointed out. “Why are you looking for this Susan Attwood?”
“Jessie's pursuing a new career option,” Hatch said. “Psychic cult-buster.”
“What?” David wrinkled his intelligent brow. “Is this some sort of joke?”
“Got it first try,” Hatch told him. “It's a joke. Unfortunately, Jessie's taking it seriously. No sense of humor, our Jessie.”
Jessie shot Hatch an annoyed glance. “Ignore him, David. This is a serious matter. I'm trying to research DEL for a client of Mrs. Valentine's whose daughter ran off and joined the cult.”
“What are you supposed to do? Get her back?”
“If possible. The client believes this Edwin Bright person has hypnotized her daughter and others somehow. She assumes he's claiming some psychic ability to forecast disaster. She wants Valentine Consultations to prove the guy is a phony.”
“Sounds a little out of your line, Jessie,” David remarked, helping himself to a chunk of the sourdough.
“Very observant of you,” Hatch said approvingly. He was apparently surprised by such a show of intelligence. “It's way out of her line.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Jessie ordered. She leaned forward and folded her arms on the counter. “David, could you do me a favor and see what you can find out about DEL's activities on campus? What I'd really like is an address. There's nothing in the local-area phone books and I couldn't find anything at all in the newspaper indexes. Your mother gave me some books to read on cults in general, but I need specific information on this one.”
“Well, I suppose I could ask around and see if anyone knows someone who talked to the DEL people when they were on campus. But I'm not so sure this is a good
“And you think you can change our outmoded thinking?” Hatch asked.
“Well, maybe not yours,” David admitted sarcastically. “But I have hopes for other people, like Jessie.”
Sensing disaster, Jessie rushed in to divert the conversation. “David, I was absolutely thrilled when Aunt Glenna told me you'd been accepted at Parkington. I'm so pleased for you.”
“Parkington's one of those fancy private colleges back East someplace, isn't it?” Hatch picked up a chunk of bread, took a bite that showed his strong white teeth, and leaned his elbows on the counter as he chewed. “Expensive.”
“Well, yes, as a matter of fact.” David shot an uncertain glance at Jessie, as if asking for guidance.
“David,” she said firmly, “tell me something. Do you know anything about a group that calls itself DEL? It stands for Dawn's Early Light. Some sort of environmental extremist group, I think. They supposedly recruited some students from Butterfield College. Did you ever see any of them on campus?”
“DEL?” David looked thoughtful, an expression he did very well. “Yeah, I think I did hear something about it a few months ago. Led by a so-called climatologist, I think. I didn't pay too much attention. They held a couple of small group lectures and talked to some people, but they didn't hang around long. We get that kind of thing all the time around a college campus. Why?”
“I'm looking for a student at Butterfield who apparently joined DEL. Her name is Susan Attwood. Know her?”
“No. What year?”
“Sophomore, I believe.”
David shook his head again. “Haven't run into her.”
Jessie sighed. “I suppose it was too much to hope that you might have known her.”
“There are a few thousand students at Butterfield,” David pointed out. “Why are you looking for this Susan Attwood?”
“Jessie's pursuing a new career option,” Hatch said. “Psychic cult-buster.”
“What?” David wrinkled his intelligent brow. “Is this some sort of joke?”
“Got it first try,” Hatch told him. “It's a joke. Unfortunately, Jessie's taking it seriously. No sense of humor, our Jessie.”
Jessie shot Hatch an annoyed glance. “Ignore him, David. This is a serious matter. I'm trying to research DEL for a client of Mrs. Valentine's whose daughter ran off and joined the cult.”
“What are you supposed to do? Get her back?”
“If possible. The client believes this Edwin Bright person has hypnotized her daughter and others somehow. She assumes he's claiming some psychic ability to forecast disaster. She wants Valentine Consultations to prove the guy is a phony.”
“Sounds a little out of your line, Jessie,” David remarked, helping himself to a chunk of the sourdough.
“Very observant of you,” Hatch said approvingly. He was apparently surprised by such a show of intelligence. “It's way out of her line.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Jessie ordered. She leaned forward and folded her arms on the counter. “David, could you do me a favor and see what you can find out about DEL's activities on campus? What I'd really like is an address. There's nothing in the local-area phone books and I couldn't find anything at all in the newspaper indexes. Your mother gave me some books to read on cults in general, but I need specific information on this one.”
“Well, I suppose I could ask around and see if anyone knows someone who talked to the DEL people when they were on campus. But I'm not so sure this is a good
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