Man of Many Minds Read online

  Chapter 3

  As Hanlon entered his dormitory room, his roommate looked up from hisstudies.

  "What'd the Big Brass Bull want, Han?"

  "Huh?" Hanlon snapped out of his abstraction and grinned. "Nothingimportant. You'll be up soon. Just about our first assignments aftergraduation." He was thinking swiftly. "... Uh, I get some extrainstruction in piloting, and a chance at the controls."

  "Gee, I hope they let me work on codes."

  Hanlon shrugged. "They probably will, Dick. They try to fit us where wecan do the most good, Rogers said." He picked up a book and sat down,apparently studying intently, and young Trowbridge resumed his ownlessons.

  Hanlon began practicing his mind-reading at every opportunity. At firsthe felt sure he would be caught at it, but quickly remembered that, as achild, his victims never suspected they were being mentally invadedunless he told them or acted carelessly upon information so gleaned.

  Yet it had been his naive, boyish pride then, that had made him boast tohis playmates of his ability, and prove it by telling them things he hadlearned about them. All that, naturally, got him into much trouble andnot a few fights, and caused the loss of all his early boyhood friends.That was why he had quit using his wild talent and had been sodetermined never to do so again, as he had first told Admiral Rogers.

  But now he realized he must use it with all the ability and skill hecould acquire. For this mind-reading, whatever of it he could do, wasdecidedly his dish. The SS would be sure to hand him all the jobs whereit might best get them what they needed--if he showed he could produce.

  Yet with his present equipment Hanlon knew he could do little. As he hadalso told the commandant, he couldn't actually read anyone's mind to theextent of getting definite wording or specific information. But he couldget quite clear sensory impressions that helped him deduce what theother person was thinking.

  He had partially learned--and now practiced with all his abilities andgained knowledge and intellect to improve and perfect the technique--togauge the other's looks, glances, facial expressions, muscle movements,sudden tensenesses, and so on. For those, together with themood-impressions and bits of fleeting thoughts, enabled him to knowalmost to a certainty what the other was actually thinking at theobserved time.

  In the barracks, later that first evening, he got into a card game andconcentrated on trying to win by this method. Nor was it consciouslythat he chose a game being played for low stakes--he just wouldn't havethought of trying to win large sums by such "cheating".

  For some time he won consistently and easily. He couldn't know whatcards his opponents held, by suit or number, but he could tell withoutany difficulty whether each of the other players felt he had a poor,medium or good hand. By playing his own accordingly, his wins were fargreater than his losses. After an hour or so of play had proved he coulddo it, and had given him considerable practice, Hanlon closed his mindto their impressions. He now played his cards so recklessly he soon losthis winnings. Then he got out of the game on a plea of having to study.

  The next morning during first class, the door opened and Admiral Rogersentered the classroom.

  "'Ten-shun!" the teacher called, springing to his feet.

  "As you were. I want to borrow one of your young gentlemen for the day,Major. A VIP is in town, and we want to give him an aide." He lookedabout the room, as though to pick out a likely-looking candidate. "Howabout Cadet Hanlon? Does he especially need today's lesson?"

  "Oh, no, sir, he's one of our top students."

  Admiral Rogers looked directly at Hanlon, who had risen to attentionwhen his name was mentioned. "In my office, in full dress uniform, onthe double."

  "Dismiss, Hanlon," the instructor said, and the cadet ran out.

  In Admiral Rogers' office ten minutes later, Hanlon received hisinstructions. "Report to the Simonidean Embassy and put yourself at thedisposal of Hector Abrams, First Secretary to the Simonidean PrimeMinister. But first, hang this stuff on you. This dress sword is alittle unusual--the scabbard is rounder than yours, but not noticeablyso. It's really a blaster; the trigger is here on the handle as yougrasp it. Put on these aide's aguillettes--the metal tips are policewhistles. No," seeing Hanlon's questioning look, "we don't expect anytrouble today--these are just routine, for we like to be ready foremergencies."

  Hanlon fastened the braided cords to his shoulder tabs, and belted onthe twenty-inch-long blaster-sword. The admiral touched a switch on hisdesk and spoke into a microphone. "My personal car to take Cadet Hanlonto the Simonidean Embassy, then return."

  At the Embassy, Hanlon reported to the receptionist, and was shown withdue deference into one of the private offices, where he was introducedto several men, among them the Secretary he was to accompany.

  "I have a number of errands to do today, but the first and mostimportant is laying the cornerstone of our new Embassy building--thisone is merely rented, you may know."

  "I am entirely at your disposal, sir," Hanlon saluted crisply, and fellinto step just behind the portly statesman as he left the building.

  They rode in an open car with a uniformed chauffeur, the othersfollowing in other cars. As they rode Hanlon probed the statesman'smind, but found only worry-tension, that he shrewdly guessed had to dowith the coming speech, rather than with any thought of intrigue orillegal machination.

  As they came into the Greek section of the city, their ride took on moreand more the aspects of a parade, as the Simonidean was recognized.

  Hanlon opened his mind wide and attempted to analyze thethought-sensations he received from the crowds. It was one of gaiety andgood nature, and reminded him of the way his boyish mind interpreted thethoughts of holiday crowds at the circus, Fourth of July celebrations,picnics, and so on.

  From the moment he first entered the Embassy, Hanlon had been probingwith every iota of his ability, hoping he could find some lead towhatever it was that was bothering the Corps about Simonides, but hadfound nothing sinister or menacing, nor could he get any such sensationsfrom the crowd.

  But now he concentrated more on watching the increasingly denser throngof people, for the car was nearing their destination. The buildingsalong here were all bedecked with Simonidean and Greek-Terran flags, andthere was now a continuous cheering from the populace. Abrams wasstanding in the back of the car now, smilingly acknowledging theirplaudits by bowing to one side and the other.

  Hanlon, sitting stiffly at attention, nevertheless kept his eyes dartinghere and there, watching as carefully as he could for any possiblehostile demonstrations or menacing figures.

  Arrived at the building site, Abrams was greeted by numerousdignitaries, and escorted with much pomp to the flag-bedecked stand,amid greater cheering from the assembled crowd.

  The chairman of the occasion stepped to the public-address microphone,and raised his hands for silence. The band broke off in the middle of anumber, the cheering from the huge throng gradually died down, and theceremony got under way.

  Hanlon, who had taken his post at one corner of the platform, paid scantattention to what was happening on it, as it neither interested him norcould he understand too much of it, even though he knew quite a bit ofGreek. Again his eyes were busy continually looking all about the greatcrowd and the surroundings.

  Nothing of note occurred until the chairman began introducing Abrams,and then hecklers in the crowd began shouting:

  "Freedom for the Greeks of Simonides!"

  "Empires are out of date; let the people rule!"

  "Demos forever!"

  These calls were few at first, but the men yelling them wereleather-lunged. The chairman's face turned reddish, and he wavered a bitin his speech, then raised his own voice in an attempt to drown out theinterruptions.

  Others were now crying out, though still only a few, but in spite oftheir shouts the ceremonies continued, and Abrams, properly introduced,rose and began his prepared speech.

  Hanlon, more alert than ever, could see local police shoving through thecrowd, trying to apprehen
d and silence the hecklers. But from hisvantage point Hanlon saw the latter shifting rapidly from place toplace, partly to escape detection, he swiftly deduced, and partly tomake it seem as though more and more people were joining in thedemonstration.

  In a side glance Hanlon saw that the Secretary was nettled at thedisturbance, and his color was high although he bravely continuedspeaking. The great audience was largely paying attention to him, andmust have found him interesting, from their frequent cheers.

  Suddenly, at one side, there seemed to be a more determineddemonstration, and Hanlon tore his gaze from it, remembering hisinstructor's words:

  "Disregard specific diversions in one spot! Let the police handlethose--you must watch most carefully then for assassins!"

  Instantly he was more alert, more carefully scanning the whole scenebefore him, his eyes travelling forth and back.

  A glint of reflected sunlight from a nearby roof jerked his eyes upward,and at what he saw, with one swift, smooth motion he drew hisblaster-sword, sighted carefully, and pressed the trigger.

  There was a crack of flame, and a gunman half-hidden behind a chimneyscreamed, half-rose, then, his body charred by the force of that blast,toppled from the roof into the street below, his rifle falling near him.Hanlon swivelled. "Cover Abrams!" his voice rang out commandingly, andhe himself jumped in front of the Secretary while others on the platformsprang up to completely surround the Simonidean, and hide him frompossible further danger.

  Hanlon raised one of the tassel-whistles and blew a piercing blast. Nowhe could see several local policemen running toward the platform, and inmoments Abrams, surrounded by an armed and alert escort, was hustledinto a waiting police car, which sped back to the Embassy.

  The Simonidean was white and shaking, upset by the episode.

  "Why?" he kept asking, but no one had any answers. "I'm not importantenough for anyone to want to kill," Abrams shook his head. "The peopleof Simonides like the empire status--why should anyone here on Terraobject?"

  "There's always crackpots in every crowd," a police captain said. "Weget riots like this one almost every time there's a public ceremony.Most of 'em're plain nuts--once in a while only is there one who feelshe's got a real grievance, personal."

  "But with so many participating, this one looked planned," Hanlonobjected. "I was higher and watching, and I could see at least a dozenmen shouting at the beginning, starting all at the same time, although alot more took it up. It must have been a plot of some kind."

  His mind was racing. Was this part of what he was being sent toSimonides to investigate? He had tried to probe the crowd minds, butthere were so many conflicting thought-emanations, such a welter ofsensations he wasn't able to isolate any single, individual moods orthoughts.

  Safely back inside the Embassy, Abrams seemed to relax a bit. He turnednow to Hanlon.

  "My very sincere thanks, young man, for your quickness and alertness insaving my life. I shall be eternally grateful."

  Hanlon waved his hand deprecatingly. "It was my job, sir. I'm sorry yourday was spoiled that way."

  "I still can't make out why?" The Simonidean said slowly, and Hanlon,probing, could sense that his mind was full of question marks. "I'm notthat important. If it had been the emperor"--Hanlon caught an impressionof loyalty and love for that dignitary--"or even the Minister"--here hecaught a feeling of doubt and some dislike--"it might make sense. Justas I cannot figure out why I should have been sent here for thispurpose. It's almost ..." he was silent, and Hanlon's probes found onlypuzzlement.

  "Nuts!" the young Corpsman felt frustrated. "If only I could really readminds! I think this guy knows something I want to learn, but I can't getthe least idea of what it is."

  But he kept trying, and not only with the mind of this one man he hadbeen sent here to guard. He reached out to all other minds in the room,but none of them seemed to have any thoughts about the why of thisunexpected happenstance. There were mostly feelings of anger that theirbeautiful new Embassy building had not been properly dedicated, andtheir ceremony ruined.

  Abrams had sunk into a chair, and it soon became apparent to Hanlon thathe wasn't planning on handling any of his other outside errands thatday.

  "Will you want me any more, sir?" he finally asked after a considerableperiod of uneasy fidgetting. The Simonidean broke out of hisabstraction, and rose to his feet.

  "No, I shall stay here for the balance of the day at least. You may aswell return to your other duties. Again, thank you, personally, forsaving my life, and please express my thanks to the Corps for sendingyou. But I still can't understand ..." He turned away, muttering.

  Hanlon saluted the other members of the Embassy staff, and rode theslideways back to Base, reporting to Admiral Rogers, to whom he gave afull and concise account of all that had happened.

  "Whatever Mr. Abrams and the police may think, I still believe it wasall carefully planned," he concluded thoughtfully. "It wasn't just oneman, for I could see at least a dozen. Though, of course," he addedquickly, "one man may have been behind it."

  "Undoubtedly," the admiral said. "There was the chance of something likethis, which is why I picked you for the job, hoping you could get someleads from it."

  "I told you I couldn't read specific thoughts or information," Hanlonsaid. "If you and the top brass picked me for the SS because you thoughtI could, you'd better release me from it. I can't work in a crowd atall, for there's such a jumble of thought-emanations I can't separatethem. Even working with an individual I can only sense something of hisfeelings. Just as now," he grinned mirthlessly, "you're disappointedbecause I didn't get any data, and thinking my so-called mind-reading isall a fake."

  The admiral almost jumped. "Why, I am not ...," then he lookedsurprised, and laughed. "By Snyder, I was, too!" He sobered. "But if youcan do that, even if you can't actually read the words of the thought,you'll still be able to help, I'm sure. No, you keep on studying. I'llbet you'll be able to do a lot more before long."

  "I sure hope so," Hanlon slowly unfastened the aiguellettes and removedthe sword and belt, laying them on the corner of the big desk. At touchof that weapon he suddenly realized what he had done with it, andshuddered, while his face grew white and strained.

  "What's the matter?" the admiral asked anxiously.

  "I ... killed ... a ... man," Hanlon trembled.

  "No! You killed a snake!" Admiral Rogers laid his arm comfortingly aboutthe younger man's shoulders. "It isn't the same at all. Don't let itbother you."

  Hanlon tried manfully to rise from his dark mood. "You're right, in away, sir, and I'll try to look at it that way. As to the mind-reading,I'll keep on trying, and I hope I can prove of some use."

  The admiral patted his shoulder encouragingly. "You will. Dismiss."