"Tell me how you knew Mary hadn't used sleight of hand in Lindstrom's
laboratory," he demanded.
There was nothing I could say. I bit down on my teeth. Well, I had
decided to shoot the wad if I had to. He'd called my bet.
"I'll tell you, Maragon," he said. "I hate to admit it of a skunk like
you, but you've got the Stigma. You kept a TK grip on those bills she
shuffled. Her hallucination is too good for you not to think it was
sleight of hand."
"No!" Mary shrieked.
"Not him!" Elmer said.
I stood up to face them. "Yes," I said. "I _do_ have the Stigma. The
only lie was that I was the Lodge's counsel. I'm not."
"What then?" Keys demanded.
"I'm Grand Master of the Manhattan Chapter," I told him. "And you,
like every Psi who is made aware of the existence of the Lodge, are
now subject to my orders."
"Not me," Elmer said. "You ain't got the Stigma."
I fired a lift at an ashtray on the table beside him, and it sailed in
an arc toward the kitchen and crashed against the wall. My TK was
certainly a lot better than it had been in the morning. Well, I'd
spent an hour or so warming up before they had come in.
"_Who_ hasn't got the Stigma?" I said.