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.No one had mentioned Kingman's specialization but clearly he was an expert.Behind them was a veritable bank of instruments clearly installed for this particular meeting.Maynard faced them all with the uneasy feeling that he was on trial.Stebbing flicked a switch with his little finger and his own voice, evidently a recording, began to speak."We have made a thorough study of subject's brain fluctuations and our findings are these.There are definite variations at dream levels leading us to suppose that a certain telepathic awareness occurs in this state.Unfortunately, this talent is unselective and uncertain, subject exercising no control over his communication faculties.Telepathic links with other functioning brains appearing to be a matter of chance rather than design.Subject's brain reacts to any wave in tune with it at the time of entering the dream state.Rather, to simplify, like an old-time radio receiver without a selector."The voice clicked off and Kingman leaned forward."Mr.Maynard, you have performed yeoman services for Security but, for the moment, in order to obtain fully comprehensive readings from our instruments, we must treat you as a suspect."He paused, as if searching for the right words."We must treat you not as an ally but as an alien enemy from whom, by interrogation, we must extract the last ounce of information.Drugs cannot be used as they would cause fluctuations in our instrument readings.We must, therefore, grill you and, in order to reach conclusions, you must answer honestly—we shall know if you do not do so.Do you fully understand this?""Yes.""Excellent—who is Lia?""I don't know.""Yet you converse with her frequently in the dream state—all your dreams have been monitored.""Yes.""In the dream state, you are developing emotional attachments for her, is this not so?""I sometimes hope I shall dream about her, yes.""What does she look like?""I don't know.""Can you locate her?""No, but I think I could if I put my mind to it.""With whom else do you communicate in the dream state?""No one.""That is untrue, our records give other readings.""I don't actually communicate, I just listen.""And what do you hear?""Nothing that makes very much sense." He told them about the conversation in the darkness."And the remark ‘the unconscious control of one's environment' makes no sense to you?""None whatever.""Could it be, Mr.Maynard, that it made sense in your dream?""Yes, it seemed reasonable enough then.""Ah!" Kingman folded his hands and smiled vaguely."Mr.Maynard, yesterday, for the benefit of several experts, you demonstrated your newfound talent.You did, in fact, appear to change your appearance, on six different occasions.It is also known that in the recent successful engagement with the Enemy you changed your appearance on no less than nineteen occasions.Now we are fully aware, and our tests have proved, that this is purely hypnotic.How do you do it?""I don't know.I just think hard of what I want to look like and people see me like that.""Quite so." He smiled again."You have no name or mental description for this talent.""No.""No! We find that a little odd, Mr.Maynard, for we have all agreed that in degree, and, admittedly, in degree only, this odd talent could well be described as the unconscious control of one's environment."A cold feeling seemed to occur suddenly in Maynard's stomach.This was no game! The passing reference to ‘an alien enemy' had been deliberate.In the bank of instruments behind his interrogators, something went Toc! Toc! Toc! imperatively.Sandling rose and studied the dials."Emotional overload," he said."Subject is aware of our purpose now and is afraid."Kingman smiled thinly but made no apologies."If you are wise, Mr.Maynard, you will continue to answer our questions with the same frankness as before.If you do not, we shall be compelled to apply pressures which will force you to do so."He paused and took a sip of water from a glass beside him."What interests us now are the dreams you had prior to joining our ranks.You see, Mr.Maynard, we have thoroughly checked your background and there is nothing to suggest the abnormal.We can only conclude, therefore, that in one of your dreams, you made a contact.""Contact?""Yes, a contact—don't look so blankly innocent, please—you established communication with an intelligence, or a group of intelligences, which were non-human.""What!" He was suddenly shocked to anger."That's a damn lie." He half rose, his face flushed."You're guessing, fishing in the dark, you have absolutely no proof.""Sit down!"Some power within his chair forced him back into a sitting position and then, suddenly, they were all firing questions at him.Drawing closer, eyes staring, mouths barking words."I put it to you—you made a deal with an alien.""No, no—I—""What were you offered in exchange?""Nothing—""What do you mean—nothing? Isn't the ability to change your appearance something?""Do you remember all your dreams?""Of course not [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]