The Psilent Partner by John Victor Peterson and Edward S. Staub
Black admitted, "from someone I don't know, afellow who wanted Standskill. Wouldn't say why or give his name. Themoment I told him Standskill was in Paris he said with some reluctancethat he would have to contact another law firm. The caller wasprobably Lawrence. If you could describe him--"
"So Standskill's in Paris! The answering service didn't know that.Well, that rules him out. Thank you, Black. Are you sure you're allright?"
"Rather tired," Black said. "Overwork, I expect. The training israther strenuous, and I do wish you wouldn't probe. As you found inpsi school, my powers have a very delicate balance."
The probe withdrew hastily.
"Sorry, Black. Very sorry. Perhaps you need a rest. I'll be only tooglad to send through an order--"
"Oh, thank you, sir," Black said, trying to make it sound fervent andproperly subservient. He sent a thought of thankfulness after hiswords, a weak one. He must not appear too strong.
Dodson rang off.
The coast was clear! They would not probe again soon!
Black immediately called Charles Wythe, found his broker's cadaverousface puzzled.
"Marty, the market's crazy! I managed to pick up four thousand shareswithin ten minutes after the market opened. One purchase. The brokerfrom whom I obtained them represented Dan Redgrave--"
"Redgrave!" Black almost shouted.
"Yes, Redgrave. He said Redgrave is plain cuckoo. Ordered him to sellat one hundred fifty. Said he'd bought them at that and would sellthem at that. No profit wanted. Glad to get out in time to recoup hisoriginal investment. What's cuckoo about it is that, except for themomentary flurry when we picked up the Redgrave shares, the stock hasbeen rising all morning. It's up to two twenty-five as of this moment.
"Lawrence must have someone else buying regardless of the price. Threeconcerns are still trying to buy at the present price. Ethics forbidsme to ask who their clients are. Not that they'd tell me anyway! Now,look, Marty, do you want me to buy at that price, if I can, that is?"
"Well, I must have six thousand, unless Lawrence is buying and I'mquite sure he isn't. See if you can find out who the buyer is, won'tyou?"
"Everybody's crazy today," the broker said. "I'll call you back."
Wythe did, a few minutes later.
"I'm afraid it's no use, Marty. There's not another share to be had.There's been news from the hospital. Lawrence has rallied. Althoughhe's still in a coma, his chances are good for recovery. Not onlythat, but the Business Ethics Bureau has issued a statement to theeffect that the tip they'd received about Lawrence and a deal has notbeen proved to have a foundation in fact. Those things have put thestock way up. Everybody wants to buy Lawrence but nobody wants tosell--except me! Let's sell, Marty!"
"Not on your life," Black said decisively. "And, look, we _must_ gettwo thousand more shares! Get them, Charlie!"
He clicked off again.
So Dan Redgrave had sold at a ridiculously low price! Had hisconsciousness wandered in those dreams? Had he psionically persuadedRedgrave to sell? That wouldn't be ethical. But do ethics apply to_involuntary_ acts?
His mind was in turmoil. He dared not exercise his psi powers againjust now. He feared above all the wrath of Dodson and the otherservice psis. If they came to suspect that he had persuadedRedgrave--that he had, according to Ethics, misused his powers ... heknew only too well that there are ways of banishing psi powers,insulin shock and other treatments.
And for all his present aloneness he was beginning to realize hislatent powers--powers which, when fully developed, would doubtlesslybring him into contact with others like himself, with someone whocould share the fierce ecstasy of probing with the consciousness tothe moon, or even farther, at the speed of light at which thoughtmoved. No, perhaps he need not always be alone....
He went out to lunch, returned, called his broker. Wythe told himthere was no activity in Lawrence. The afternoon wore. A few minutesbefore the exchange closed the broker called.
"It's hopeless, Marty," said Wythe. "Let's sell. The price is stilltwo twenty-five and nothing for sale. How about it? Three hundredthousand profit in one day."
It sounded attractive. Black hesitated, then thought of Lawrence,good, old would-be humanitarian and philanthropist D. V. Lawrencelying in coma. Lawrence, whose dreams were in his hands now. He hadcome to like Lawrence, the trail-blazer where there were so few trailsto be blazed. He had to help him. If worse came to worse he would castEthics to the winds. He'd have to! His conscience couldn't permit himto do anything else. He would psionically persuade at least one of theother stockholders to vote Lawrence's way.
Well, at least his mind was made up. Lawrence would have his options.And with forty-nine percent of the stock between them they couldgamble on getting a favorable vote.
"What about it, Marty?" the broker asked impatiently.
"Sorry," Black said. "The answer is no, Charlie! I want that stock."
He rang off.
Moments later his consciousness was on its way to keep the rendezvouswith Joyce high in the evening sky over Oklahoma, up where the blue ofthe atmosphere turned to the black of infinity.
And moments later lights blazed over a table in a realty office in LosAngeles where no one sat. But pens lifted and wrote....
"_D. V. Lawrence by Martin J. Black, his attorney-in-fact._"
"_J. F. Cadigan Realty Corporation by Richard Joyce, Vice-President._"
Another pen lifted with the invisible but delicate twist of a femininepsi-touch.
"_Before me this ninth day of September in the year Nineteen Hundredand Seventy-six Anno Domini psionically appeared...._"
The options were psigned, come what may!
VI
An oak-panelled conference room. Lawrence's first vice-presidentreading the proposal. The board of directors. The major stockholders.Smaller ones. Attorneys-in-fact for both Lawrence and Black.
And _Bob Standskill_!
What was Standskill doing here?
But the first vice-president had finished reading the proposal and wasasking for a vote.
Lawrence--forty-five thousand shares--_yes_!
Maryk--twenty thousand shares--_no_!
Carrese--nine thousand shares--_no_!
Tonemont--seven thousand shares--_no_!
Black--four thousand shares--_yes_!
Turitz--five thousand shares--_no_!
And the smaller stockholders, one by one--_no_, _no_, _no_!
Forty-nine thousand shares--_no_! Forty-nine thousand shares--_yes_!
Black felt ill. His hovering consciousness almost fled from itsinvisible vantage point above the conference table back to the mansionon Riverside Drive, back where the memories of Martha Blackremained.... But it wavered, stabilized....
Standskill rising, so implacable, so sure and saying, "Two thousandshares--yes!"
Black probed Standskill's mind almost involuntarily then, realizinginstantly that he should have disregarded Ethics and probed before.Standskill was a psi, a _non-service psi_! And Black knew then thatwhen his consciousness had flitted through association to _Le ChevalFatigue_ in Montmarte, Paris, and had fixed there for a brief unstablemoment it had yielded to Standskill all knowledge of the Lawrencedeal, persuading Standskill to order his brokers to buy thecorporation's stock for the trust....
Black's consciousness sped to join Joyce's in a law office inOklahoma. It watched the landowners signing the deeds even as itsigned psionically the checks which represented the good and valuableconsiderations.
The deal was closed.
VII
_Joyce, tell me--did you, to your knowledge, tip off the BEB psis?_
_Yes. Inadvertently, of course. I had a nightmare. I'm afraid I'msometimes unstable, anonymously so, when asleep. Only then, though,thank Heaven!_
_And, Joyce, why aren't you in service?_
_For the same reason you can't be._
Confusion.
_What do you mean?_
_Your mother knew._
_My mother?_
_Yes, Marty
, don't you realize that only unstable psis are taken intoservice? Stability is the mark of the superman. Do the majority of menwant the minority--the supermen--running their world even though thesupermen are their brothers, sisters and children? And they mustsurely realize that all mankind will evolve to psis one day. Marty,you were in psi school. So was I. Did you complete Stabilization?... Isee you didn't. No psi does! They let you think you're getting awaywith something when you skip classes, but you're not!_
_Fortunately, if you are strong enough, you stabilize on your own.Perhaps you'll realize now that your mother gave you the incentive:the thirty percent angle, realizing that an uncle you definitely didnot like would inherit if you didn't strive to the utmost. It worked._
_They can't touch me, Marty, and they can't touch you! We can eludethem
"So Standskill's in Paris! The answering service didn't know that.Well, that rules him out. Thank you, Black. Are you sure you're allright?"
"Rather tired," Black said. "Overwork, I expect. The training israther strenuous, and I do wish you wouldn't probe. As you found inpsi school, my powers have a very delicate balance."
The probe withdrew hastily.
"Sorry, Black. Very sorry. Perhaps you need a rest. I'll be only tooglad to send through an order--"
"Oh, thank you, sir," Black said, trying to make it sound fervent andproperly subservient. He sent a thought of thankfulness after hiswords, a weak one. He must not appear too strong.
Dodson rang off.
The coast was clear! They would not probe again soon!
Black immediately called Charles Wythe, found his broker's cadaverousface puzzled.
"Marty, the market's crazy! I managed to pick up four thousand shareswithin ten minutes after the market opened. One purchase. The brokerfrom whom I obtained them represented Dan Redgrave--"
"Redgrave!" Black almost shouted.
"Yes, Redgrave. He said Redgrave is plain cuckoo. Ordered him to sellat one hundred fifty. Said he'd bought them at that and would sellthem at that. No profit wanted. Glad to get out in time to recoup hisoriginal investment. What's cuckoo about it is that, except for themomentary flurry when we picked up the Redgrave shares, the stock hasbeen rising all morning. It's up to two twenty-five as of this moment.
"Lawrence must have someone else buying regardless of the price. Threeconcerns are still trying to buy at the present price. Ethics forbidsme to ask who their clients are. Not that they'd tell me anyway! Now,look, Marty, do you want me to buy at that price, if I can, that is?"
"Well, I must have six thousand, unless Lawrence is buying and I'mquite sure he isn't. See if you can find out who the buyer is, won'tyou?"
"Everybody's crazy today," the broker said. "I'll call you back."
Wythe did, a few minutes later.
"I'm afraid it's no use, Marty. There's not another share to be had.There's been news from the hospital. Lawrence has rallied. Althoughhe's still in a coma, his chances are good for recovery. Not onlythat, but the Business Ethics Bureau has issued a statement to theeffect that the tip they'd received about Lawrence and a deal has notbeen proved to have a foundation in fact. Those things have put thestock way up. Everybody wants to buy Lawrence but nobody wants tosell--except me! Let's sell, Marty!"
"Not on your life," Black said decisively. "And, look, we _must_ gettwo thousand more shares! Get them, Charlie!"
He clicked off again.
So Dan Redgrave had sold at a ridiculously low price! Had hisconsciousness wandered in those dreams? Had he psionically persuadedRedgrave to sell? That wouldn't be ethical. But do ethics apply to_involuntary_ acts?
His mind was in turmoil. He dared not exercise his psi powers againjust now. He feared above all the wrath of Dodson and the otherservice psis. If they came to suspect that he had persuadedRedgrave--that he had, according to Ethics, misused his powers ... heknew only too well that there are ways of banishing psi powers,insulin shock and other treatments.
And for all his present aloneness he was beginning to realize hislatent powers--powers which, when fully developed, would doubtlesslybring him into contact with others like himself, with someone whocould share the fierce ecstasy of probing with the consciousness tothe moon, or even farther, at the speed of light at which thoughtmoved. No, perhaps he need not always be alone....
He went out to lunch, returned, called his broker. Wythe told himthere was no activity in Lawrence. The afternoon wore. A few minutesbefore the exchange closed the broker called.
"It's hopeless, Marty," said Wythe. "Let's sell. The price is stilltwo twenty-five and nothing for sale. How about it? Three hundredthousand profit in one day."
It sounded attractive. Black hesitated, then thought of Lawrence,good, old would-be humanitarian and philanthropist D. V. Lawrencelying in coma. Lawrence, whose dreams were in his hands now. He hadcome to like Lawrence, the trail-blazer where there were so few trailsto be blazed. He had to help him. If worse came to worse he would castEthics to the winds. He'd have to! His conscience couldn't permit himto do anything else. He would psionically persuade at least one of theother stockholders to vote Lawrence's way.
Well, at least his mind was made up. Lawrence would have his options.And with forty-nine percent of the stock between them they couldgamble on getting a favorable vote.
"What about it, Marty?" the broker asked impatiently.
"Sorry," Black said. "The answer is no, Charlie! I want that stock."
He rang off.
Moments later his consciousness was on its way to keep the rendezvouswith Joyce high in the evening sky over Oklahoma, up where the blue ofthe atmosphere turned to the black of infinity.
And moments later lights blazed over a table in a realty office in LosAngeles where no one sat. But pens lifted and wrote....
"_D. V. Lawrence by Martin J. Black, his attorney-in-fact._"
"_J. F. Cadigan Realty Corporation by Richard Joyce, Vice-President._"
Another pen lifted with the invisible but delicate twist of a femininepsi-touch.
"_Before me this ninth day of September in the year Nineteen Hundredand Seventy-six Anno Domini psionically appeared...._"
The options were psigned, come what may!
VI
An oak-panelled conference room. Lawrence's first vice-presidentreading the proposal. The board of directors. The major stockholders.Smaller ones. Attorneys-in-fact for both Lawrence and Black.
And _Bob Standskill_!
What was Standskill doing here?
But the first vice-president had finished reading the proposal and wasasking for a vote.
Lawrence--forty-five thousand shares--_yes_!
Maryk--twenty thousand shares--_no_!
Carrese--nine thousand shares--_no_!
Tonemont--seven thousand shares--_no_!
Black--four thousand shares--_yes_!
Turitz--five thousand shares--_no_!
And the smaller stockholders, one by one--_no_, _no_, _no_!
Forty-nine thousand shares--_no_! Forty-nine thousand shares--_yes_!
Black felt ill. His hovering consciousness almost fled from itsinvisible vantage point above the conference table back to the mansionon Riverside Drive, back where the memories of Martha Blackremained.... But it wavered, stabilized....
Standskill rising, so implacable, so sure and saying, "Two thousandshares--yes!"
Black probed Standskill's mind almost involuntarily then, realizinginstantly that he should have disregarded Ethics and probed before.Standskill was a psi, a _non-service psi_! And Black knew then thatwhen his consciousness had flitted through association to _Le ChevalFatigue_ in Montmarte, Paris, and had fixed there for a brief unstablemoment it had yielded to Standskill all knowledge of the Lawrencedeal, persuading Standskill to order his brokers to buy thecorporation's stock for the trust....
Black's consciousness sped to join Joyce's in a law office inOklahoma. It watched the landowners signing the deeds even as itsigned psionically the checks which represented the good and valuableconsiderations.
The deal was closed.
VII
_Joyce, tell me--did you, to your knowledge, tip off the BEB psis?_
_Yes. Inadvertently, of course. I had a nightmare. I'm afraid I'msometimes unstable, anonymously so, when asleep. Only then, though,thank Heaven!_
_And, Joyce, why aren't you in service?_
_For the same reason you can't be._
Confusion.
_What do you mean?_
_Your mother knew._
_My mother?_
_Yes, Marty
_Fortunately, if you are strong enough, you stabilize on your own.Perhaps you'll realize now that your mother gave you the incentive:the thirty percent angle, realizing that an uncle you definitely didnot like would inherit if you didn't strive to the utmost. It worked._
_They can't touch me, Marty, and they can't touch you! We can eludethem