Brain Twister

Dr. O’Co

He was, Malone thought, somewhere between fifty and sixty, tall and thin with skin so transparent that he nearly looked like a living X-ray. He had pale blue eyes and pale white hair, and, Malone thought, if there ever were a contest for the best-looking ghost, Dr. Thomas O’Co

“This is all necessary for the national security,” Burris said, a little sternly.

“Oh,” Dr. O’Co

“Let’s go ahead, shall we?” Burris said.

O’Co

Burris said: “Well, then,” and paused. After a second he started again: “Now, Dr. O’Co

“Of course,” Dr. O’Co

“No,” Burris said, and added: “Not by any means. Just tell us what it does.”

Dr. O’Co

“Well,” he began, “to put it very simply, the device indicates whether or not a man’s mental — ah — processes are being influenced by outside — by outside influences.” He gave the cameras another little smile. “If you will allow me, I will demonstrate on the machine itself.”

He took two steps that carried him out of camera range, and returned wheeling a large heavy-looking box. Dangling from the metal covering were a number of wires and attachments. A long cord led from the box to the floor, and snaked out of sight to the left.

“Now,” Dr. O’Co

“Just a moment, Doctor,” Burris said. He was eyeing the machine with a combination of suspicion and awe. “A while back you mentioned something about ‘outside influences.’ Just what, specifically, does that mean?”

With some regret, Dr. O’Co

“I see,” Burris said. “You can detect a telepath with this machine.”

“I’m afraid—”

“Well, some kind of a mind-reader anyhow,” Burris said. “We won’t quarrel about terms.”

“Certainly not,” Dr. O’Co

“Well, then,” Burris said, “what does the thing do?” His face wore a mask of confusion. Momentarily, Malone felt sorry for his chief. He could remember how he’d felt, himself, when that law professor had come up with a particularly baffling question in class.

“This machine,” Dr. O’Co

“You mean, if my mind were being read right now—”

“Not right now,” Dr. O’Co

“I meant theoretically,” Burris said.

“Theoretically—” Dr. O’Co

“You mean, if somebody was reading my mind, I’d know it?” Burris said. His face showed, Malone realized, that he plainly disbelieved this statement.

“You would know it,” Dr. O’Co

“Thank you,” Burris said with a trace of irritation. “I know what hormones are.”

“Ah. Good,” Dr. O’Co

You could almost see the quotation marks around what Dr. O’Co

“I see,” Burris said with a disappointed air. “But what do you mean, it won’t detect a telepath? Have you ever actually worked with a telepath?”

“Certainly we have,” Dr. O’Co

“I see,” Burris said hurriedly. “Only wait a minute.”

“Yes?”

“You mean you actually got a real mind-reader? You’ve found one? One that works?”

Dr. O’Co

“An imbecile?” Burris said. “But how were you able to—”

“He could repeat a person’s thoughts word for word,” Dr. O’Co

“I’m sure,” Burris said. “But he was really an imbecile? There wasn’t any chance of—”

“Of curing him?” Dr. O’Co

Burris sighed. “I see your problem,” he said. “But what happened to this imbecile boy of yours?”

“Very sad,” Dr. O’Co

“Gave up?”

“That was as good an explanation as our medical department was able to provide, Mr. Burris. There was some malfunction — but — we like to say that he simply gave up. Living became too difficult for him.”

“All right,” Burris said after a pause. “This telepath of yours is dead, and there aren’t any more where he came from. Or if there are, you don’t know how to look for them. All right. But to get back to this machine of yours: it couldn’t detect the boy’s ability?”