The Telenizer Read online

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  The Telenizer

  By DON THOMPSON

  Illustrated by VIDMER

  [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science FictionMarch 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  [Sidenote: Langston had technicolor delusions; inanimate objects camealive in his hands; THEY were persecuting him, out to get him ... what arelief it was to know he wasn't going insane!]

  When I saw the blood dripping from the tap in the bathtub, I knew thatsomeone had a telenosis beam on me, and I breathed a very audible sighof relief.

  During the past few days, I had begun to wonder if I was really crackingup.

  When you start seeing visions of a bearded gent with a halo, or havingvague but wonderful dreams about some sort of perfect world, feelingintense loyalties to undefined ideals, and experiencing sudden impulses,sometimes cruel and sometimes kind--you know that something's wrong.

  At least I do.

  If he--whoever he was--had just kept up the slow, subtle pace he'dmaintained for the past two or three days, he would have had me in alittle while. For whatever he wanted.

  But now, he'd overplayed his hand. I knew, at least, what was going on.Who was doing it, or why, I still didn't know--nor whether I could standit, even knowing.

  * * * * *

  The thick, bright red blood dripping steadily from the water tap in thebath tub wasn't so bad.

  I stood before the mirror, with my softly humming razor in my hand, andI watched the blood ooze from the tap, quiver as it grew heavy andpregnant, then pull itself free and fall with a dull _plonk_ to theenamel as another drop began to form.

  That wasn't so bad. But my sigh of relief became a gurgle of almosthysterical apprehension as I braced myself for what might come, with thetelenizer knowing that I was aware.

  There was something I could do--should do--but my mind refused to focus.It bogged down in a muck of unreasoning terror and could only scream_Why? Why? Why?_

  The drops of blood from the water tap increased both in size andrapidity, as I watched. Heavy, red, marble-sized tears followed oneanother from the tap, _plonk, plonk, plonk_, splashing in the tub and onthe floor. Faster and faster, and then the drip became a flow, a gush,as though the vein of some giant creature had been slashed.

  The tub filled rapidly, and blood flowed like a crimson waterfall overthe edge and across the floor toward me.

  I heard a tiny howling, and looked down.

  I screamed and threw the soft, brown, fuzzy, squirming puppy-thing thathad been a razor into the advancing tide of blood.

  The fuzzy thing shattered when it hit the blood, and each of thethousand pieces became another tiny puppy-thing that grew and grew,yapping and swimming in the blood. The tide was now rising about myshoes.

  I backed away from the mirror, trembling violently. I forced myself toslosh through the thick blood into the bedroom, groping for a bottle ofwhisky on the bureau.

  * * * * *

  "What the hell are you doing here?" the boss asked when I opened hisoffice door and peeked in. "You're supposed to be in Palm Beach. Well,damn it, come on in!"

  I clung to the door firmly as I maneuvered myself through the opening.And when I closed the door, I leaned back against it heavily.

  I could see the boss--Carson Newell, managing editor of Intergalaxy NewsService--half rising from behind his big desk across the room; but hewas pretty dim and I couldn't get him to stay in one place. His voicewas clear enough, though:

  "Must be mighty important to bring you back from.... Damn it, Langston,are you drunk?"

  I grinned then, and said, "Carshon. Carton. Old boy. Do you know thattelenosis therapy is no sonofabitchin' good on alcoholics?"

  Carson Newell sat back down, frowning.

  I stumbled to a chair by the corner of his desk and gripped the armstightly.

  "Telenosis therapy," I repeated, "is just no--"

  "Snap out of it," Newell barked. "It's no good on dumb animals, either,and you're probably out of range by now, anyway."

  He took a small bottle from his desk and tossed a yellow Anti-Alch pillacross the desk to me. I popped it into my mouth.

  It didn't take long to work. A few minutes later, still weak and alittle trembly, I said, "Would have thought of that myself, if I hadn'tbeen so damn drunk."

  The boss grunted. "Now what's this business about telenosis?"

  "Somebody's been using it on me," I said. "Maliciously. Damn neardrowned in a lake of blood from a water faucet."

  "Couldn't have been DTs?"

  "I'm serious. It's been going on for three or four days now. Not theblood. That's what gave it away. But other things."

  "You've been working pretty hard lately," Newell reminded me.

  "Which is why I'm on vacation and all nice and relaxed. Or at least, I_was_. No, it's not that. Listen, Carson, I admit that I'm no technicalexpert on telenosis. But a long time ago--seven or eight years ago, Iguess--I did a feature series on it. I learned a little bit. Enough tosave my life this time."

  Newell shrugged. "Okay. You probably know more about it than I do. Ijust know it's damned restricted stuff." He paused thoughtfully. "Anymissing telenizer equipment would cause a helluva fuss, and there hasn'tbeen any fuss."

  "No machines in Palm Beach or vicinity that somebody on the inside couldbe using illegally?" And then I answered that question myself: "No ... Idoubt it. The machines are used only in the larger hospitals."

  "Don't suppose you have any hunches?"

  I shook my head slowly, frowning. "You couldn't really call it a hunch.Just a bare possibility. But I noticed on a news report the other daythat Isaac Grogan--you know, 'the Millionaire Mayor of Memphis,'released about a month ago, bribery and corruption sentence--anyway,he's taken up temporary residence in Palm Beach."

  The boss rubbed his chin. "As I recall, you did an expose series on himfour or five years ago. Corroborated by official investigation, andGrogan was later sentenced. You thinks he's after revenge?"

  I raised a hand warningly. "Now, hold on--I said it was a barepossibility. All I know is that Grogan hates my guts--or might think hehas some reason to. I know that Grogan is in Palm Beach, and that I'vebeen under telenosis attack. There's no necessary connection at all."

  "No," Newell said. "But it's something to start on." He looked at hiswrist watch. "Tell you what. It's nearly noon now. Let's go out forlunch, and while I'm thinking, you can tell me all you remember abouttelenosis."

  * * * * *

  It's altogether possible that you may have no more than barely heard oftelenosis--its technical details are among the most closely guardedsecrets of our time. So I'll go over some of the high spots of what Itold Newell.

  Mind you, I'm no authority on the subject, and it has been a full sevenyears since I have done any research on it. However, I learned all Iknow from Dr. Homer Reighardt, who, at the time, was the world'soutstanding authority.

  Telenosis, nowadays, is confined almost exclusively to use inpsychiatric hospitals and corrective institutions. It's used chiefly onneurotics. In cases of extreme dementia, it's worthless. In fact, themore normal you are, the more effective the telenosis.

  Roughly--without going into any of the real technicalities--it's thisway:

  Science has known for a long time that electrical waves emanate from thebrain. The waves can be measured on an electroencaphalograph, and varywith the physiological and psychological condition of the individual.Extreme paranoia, for example, or epilepsy, or alcoholism areaccompanied by violent disturbances of the wav
es.

  Very interesting, but....

  It wasn't until 2037 that Professor Martin James decided that thesebrain waves are comparable to radio waves, and got busy inventing adevice to listen in on them.

  The result, of course, was telenosis. The machine that James came upwith, after twenty years of work, could not only listen in on a person'sthoughts, which are carried on the brain waves, but it could transmitmessages to the brain from the outside.

  "Unless the waves are in a state of disturbance caused by alcohol orinsanity or some such thing?" Newell commented.

  I nodded.

  "The word 'telenosis' comes from 'hypnosis,' doesn't it?"

  "Yes, but not very accurately," I said. "In hypnosis, you