The Telenizer Read online

need some sortof visual or auditory accompaniment. With telenosis, you can gaincontrol of a person's mind directly, through the brain waves."

  "You say 'gain control of a person's mind,'" Newell said. "Do you meanthat if you tell someone who is under telenosis to do something, he'sgot to do it?"

  * * * * *

  "Not necessarily," I said. "All you can do with telenosis is transmitthoughts to a person--counting visual and auditory sensations asthoughts. If you can convince him that the thoughts you're sending are_his_ thoughts ... then you can make him do almost anything. But if heknows or suspects he's being telenized--"

  "I'm with you," Newell interrupted. "He still gets the thoughts--visionsand sounds or what have you--but he doesn't have to obey them."

  I nodded. My mind was skipping ahead to more immediate problems. "Don'tyou suppose we ought to notify Central Investigation Division rightaway? This is really a problem for them."

  But Newell was there ahead of me. "So was the Memphis affair," he said.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  "Meaning," the boss continued, "that I'd like to give your hunch a playfirst."

  "But it's not even a hunch," I objected. "How?"

  "Well, by having you interview Grogan, for instance...."

  I opened my mouth and almost shook my head, but Newell hurried on."Look, Earl, it's been a long time since Intergalaxy has scored a goodnews beat. Not since the Memphis expose, in fact. Remember that?Remember how good it felt to have your name on articles published allover the world? Remember all the extra cash? The fame?"

  I grunted.

  "Now before you say anything," Newell said, "remember that when youstarted on that case you didn't have a thing more concrete to go on thanyou have right now--just a half a hunch. Isn't that right? Admit it!"

  "M'm."

  "Well, isn't it worth a chance? What can we lose?"

  "Me, maybe. But...."

  The boss said nothing more. He knew that if he let me do the talking,I'd soon argue myself into it. Which I did.

  Five minutes later, I shrugged. "Okay. What, specifically, do you havein mind?"

  "Let's go back to the office," Newell said.

  * * * * *

  It was just a short walk. Or, I should say, it would have been a shortwalk, if we had walked.

  But New York was one of the very last cities to convert to the "level"transportation system. It had been one hell of an engineering feat, butfor Amerpean ingenuity and enterprise nothing is impossible, so the jobhad finally been tackled and completed just within the past year. Andthe novelty of the ambulator bands on pedestrian levels was still strongfor native New Yorkers.

  So instead of leaving the restaurant on the vehicle level, where wehappened to be, and taking an old fashioned sidewalk stroll to the IGNbuilding, Newell insisted on taking the escalator up to the next leveland then gliding along on an amband.

  That's just the sort of person he is.

  When we got back up to his office, he asked, "Isn't there some sort ofdefense against telenosis? I mean, other than alcohol or insanity?"

  I thought for a moment. "Shouldn't be too hard to devise one. All youneed is something to set up interference vibrations on the same band asthe brain waves you're guarding."

  "Sounds simple as hell. Could one of our men do it?"

  "A telenosis technician at one of the hospitals could do it quicker," Isuggested.

  "Without the sanction of C.I.D.? I doubt that."

  "That's right," I agreed. "Okay. I'll run down to Technology and seewhat we can work out. It may take two or three days--"

  "I'll see that it gets top priority. I want you to get back to PalmBeach as soon as you can."

  As I was getting up to leave, Newell said, "Say, by the way, how's thathealth cult in Palm Beach--Suns-Rays Incorporated? Anything on that?"

  Suns-Rays Incorporated was one of the chief reasons I was taking myvacation in Palm Beach, Fla., instead of in Sacramento, Calif., my hometown. Carson Newell had heard about this crackpot religious group thatwas having a convention in Palm Beach, and he couldn't see why one ofhis reporters shouldn't combine business and pleasure.

  And maybe that tells you a little more of the sort of person he is.

  "It's a complete fraud," I told him. "They worship a glorified sunlampand take regular treatments. Same time, they follow a strict diet andsystem of exercises--have their own little spot on one of the beaches.Guaranteed to cure what ails you."

  "Who's the head?" Newell asked. "How many are there?"

  "About twenty-five or thirty members, I'd say. That's not counting thefew curiosity-seekers, like me. And nobody in particular seems to be incharge right now. I guess the big boss died, and they're holding thisconfab to elect a new one. Supposed to have the elections today, come tothink of it. There's a great big scoop I missed."

  "Any real news value in it?"

  I shook my head. "Feature story, maybe, but it's pretty run-of-the-millstuff, even at that."

  "Well, stay with it," Newell said. "Just in case nothing pops on thistelenosis deal. And get that defense mech as soon as possible."

  "Do I get a real vacation after this is all over?" I asked, knowing whatthe answer would be.

  "Scram," Newell replied. "I'm a busy man. Get going!"

  * * * * *

  Late afternoon of the next day, my defense mechanism was ready. They hadtaken a reading of my brain wave with a makeshift electroencaphalograph,and then a couple of electronics boys had tinkered around until they hada gadget that would throw out vibrations on exactly my wave-band.

  Of course, not having any telenosis equipment, we weren't able to make areal check of the contraption's effectiveness. I had to take thetechnologists' word that it would work.

  Frankly, I didn't feel any too well defended as I hopped the fiveo'clock stratoliner back to Palm Beach.

  The defense mech was enclosed in a black case that looked like aportable radio or a portable typewriter or a small suitcase. When youopened the lid, there was a flat surface having only one dial--forvolume. The vibrations had a radius of about three-quarters of a mile.

  It was after six when I got back to my hotel. I had Grogan's address,and he wasn't too far from where I was staying--but Grogan is not thesort of person on whom you make a business call after business hours.

  My confidence in the defense mech hadn't grown, but I knew of anothersure-fire defense, so after dinner I went to the bar to start setting itup.

  But I lugged the thirty-pound portable along, anyway, wishing that itlooked a little more like a briefcase instead of a typewriter or aradio.

  Not that it really mattered, though. I could have carried an open birdcage with a live and screaming Calypsian _grimp_, odor and all, andstill not have attracted any attention--because it wouldn't have beenany more unusual than some of the guests at the hotel.

  For a student of interplanetary biology, this would be a perfectobservation post. There aren't many forms of extraterrestrial life thatcan accommodate themselves to Earth's conditions, but there are spotsthat go out of their way to provide suitable conditions for anythingthat comes along, and this was one of them.

  * * * * *

  In the two weeks I had been here, I had seen only one Calypsiandominant, and he didn't happen to have a _grimp_ with him. But therewere a pair of Uranian _galgaque_--squat, gray, midget honeymooners--whosmelled just as bad. They left a few days after I got here.

  Then there had been at least half a dozen flimsy, ethereal littleVenusians at one time or another, dragging themselves around and lookingunhappy as hell. None of them stayed more than a few days, and theyspent most of their time in the water.

  I noticed one or two hairy, apelike dominants from Jupiter's third moon,and a few of the snaky, scaly, six-limbed creatures from the second. Inaddition, there was a group of Vega VI dominants who were hard todistinguish from humans if you didn't look closel
y enough to noticetheir complete hairlessness and the absence of neck.

  And of course there were the inevitable Martians--giant, big-chested,spindly-limbed, red-hued parodies of humanity; friendly, good-naturedand alert. But I don't really suppose they should be classed among theoddities of the place.

  As one of my colleagues commented in a national publication not longago: "The only place a Martian is a novelty any more is on Mars."

  I fully expect the 2080 census to show a Martian population on Earthmore than double that of the home planet. So far, the Martians seem tobe the only