every police officer in the country within one
hour. On the bottom of the stat we announce that the man who locates her will
automatically be jumped five grades."
"Sir: Regulations forbid elevation of more than three ranks at any time." Thus
spake Nod.
"To hell with Regulations," Powell snapped. "Five grades to the man who finds
Barbara D'Courtney. I've got to get that girl."
In Monarch Tower, Ben Reich shoved every piezo crystal off his desk into the
startled hands of his secretaries.
"Get the hell out of here and take all this slok with you," he growled. "From
now on the office coasts without me. Understand? Don't bother me."
"Mr. Reich, we'd understood you were contemplating taking over the D'Courtney
interests now that Craye D'Courtney's dead. If you---"
"I'm taking care of that right now. That's why I don't want to be bothered. Now
beat it. Jet!"
He horded the terrified squad toward the door, pushed them out, slammed the door
and locked it. He went to the phone, punched BD-12,232 and waited impatiently.
After too long a time, the image of Jerry Church appeared against a background
of pawnshop debris.
"You?" Church snarled and reached for the cut-off.
"Me. On business. Still interested in reinstatement?"
Church stared. "What about it?"
"You've made yourself a deal. I'm starting action on your reinstatement at once.
And I can do it, Jerry. I own the league of Esper Patriots. But I want a lot in
return."
"For God's sake, Ben. Anything. Just ask me."
"That's what I want."
"Anything?"
"And everything. Unlimited service. You know the price I'm paying. Are you
selling?"
"I'm selling, Ben. Yes."
"And I want Keno Quizzard too."
"You can't want him, Ben. He isn't safe. Nobody gets anything from Quizzard."
"Set up a meeting. Same old place. Same time. This is like it used to be, eh,
Jerry? Only this time it's going to have a happy ending."
The usual line was assembled in the anteroom of the Esper Guild Institute when
Lincoln Powell entered. The hopeful hundreds, all ages, all sexes, all classes,
each dreaming that he had the magic quality that could make life the fulfillment
of fantasy, unaware of the heavy responsibility that quality entailed. The
naivete of those dreams always made Powell smile. Read minds and make a killing
on the market... (Guild Law forbade speculation or gambling by peepers) Read
minds and know the answers to all exam questions... (That was a schoolboy,
unaware that Esper Proctors were hired by Examination Boards to prevent that
kind of peeper-cheating) Read minds and know what people really think of me...
Read minds and know which girls are willing... Read minds and be like a King...
At the desk, the receptionist wearily broadcast on the widest TP band: If you
can hear me, please go through the door on the left marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. If
you can hear me, please go through the door on the left marked EMPLOYEES ONLY...
To an assured young socialite, with a checkbook in her hand, she was saying:
"No, Madame. The Guild does not charge for training and instruction, your offer
is worthless. Please go home, Madame. We can do nothing for you."
Deaf to the basic test of the Guild, the woman turned away angrily, to be
succeeded by the schoolboy.
If you can hear me, please go through the door on the left...
A young Negro suddenly detached himself from the line, glanced uncertainly at
the receptionist, and then walked to the door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. He opened
it and entered. Powell was excited. Latent Espers turned up infrequently. He'd
been fortunate to arrive at this moment.
He nodded to the receptionist and followed the Latent through the door. Inside,
two of the Guild staff were enthusiastically shaking the surprised man's hand
and patting him on the back. Powell joined them for a moment and added his
congratulations. It was always a happy day for the Guild when they unearthed
another Esper.
Powell walked down the corridor toward the president's
hour. On the bottom of the stat we announce that the man who locates her will
automatically be jumped five grades."
"Sir: Regulations forbid elevation of more than three ranks at any time." Thus
spake Nod.
"To hell with Regulations," Powell snapped. "Five grades to the man who finds
Barbara D'Courtney. I've got to get that girl."
In Monarch Tower, Ben Reich shoved every piezo crystal off his desk into the
startled hands of his secretaries.
"Get the hell out of here and take all this slok with you," he growled. "From
now on the office coasts without me. Understand? Don't bother me."
"Mr. Reich, we'd understood you were contemplating taking over the D'Courtney
interests now that Craye D'Courtney's dead. If you---"
"I'm taking care of that right now. That's why I don't want to be bothered. Now
beat it. Jet!"
He horded the terrified squad toward the door, pushed them out, slammed the door
and locked it. He went to the phone, punched BD-12,232 and waited impatiently.
After too long a time, the image of Jerry Church appeared against a background
of pawnshop debris.
"You?" Church snarled and reached for the cut-off.
"Me. On business. Still interested in reinstatement?"
Church stared. "What about it?"
"You've made yourself a deal. I'm starting action on your reinstatement at once.
And I can do it, Jerry. I own the league of Esper Patriots. But I want a lot in
return."
"For God's sake, Ben. Anything. Just ask me."
"That's what I want."
"Anything?"
"And everything. Unlimited service. You know the price I'm paying. Are you
selling?"
"I'm selling, Ben. Yes."
"And I want Keno Quizzard too."
"You can't want him, Ben. He isn't safe. Nobody gets anything from Quizzard."
"Set up a meeting. Same old place. Same time. This is like it used to be, eh,
Jerry? Only this time it's going to have a happy ending."
The usual line was assembled in the anteroom of the Esper Guild Institute when
Lincoln Powell entered. The hopeful hundreds, all ages, all sexes, all classes,
each dreaming that he had the magic quality that could make life the fulfillment
of fantasy, unaware of the heavy responsibility that quality entailed. The
naivete of those dreams always made Powell smile. Read minds and make a killing
on the market... (Guild Law forbade speculation or gambling by peepers) Read
minds and know the answers to all exam questions... (That was a schoolboy,
unaware that Esper Proctors were hired by Examination Boards to prevent that
kind of peeper-cheating) Read minds and know what people really think of me...
Read minds and know which girls are willing... Read minds and be like a King...
At the desk, the receptionist wearily broadcast on the widest TP band: If you
can hear me, please go through the door on the left marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. If
you can hear me, please go through the door on the left marked EMPLOYEES ONLY...
To an assured young socialite, with a checkbook in her hand, she was saying:
"No, Madame. The Guild does not charge for training and instruction, your offer
is worthless. Please go home, Madame. We can do nothing for you."
Deaf to the basic test of the Guild, the woman turned away angrily, to be
succeeded by the schoolboy.
If you can hear me, please go through the door on the left...
A young Negro suddenly detached himself from the line, glanced uncertainly at
the receptionist, and then walked to the door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. He opened
it and entered. Powell was excited. Latent Espers turned up infrequently. He'd
been fortunate to arrive at this moment.
He nodded to the receptionist and followed the Latent through the door. Inside,
two of the Guild staff were enthusiastically shaking the surprised man's hand
and patting him on the back. Powell joined them for a moment and added his
congratulations. It was always a happy day for the Guild when they unearthed
another Esper.
Powell walked down the corridor toward the president's
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