"That's no solution and you know it."
"Then give me an alternative."
Phillip shrugged. "Now that you're here, you're here. It's obvious that
you know too much, Steve. You should have left well enough alone."
"I didn't know well enough. Besides, I couldn't have been pushed better
if someone had slipped me--" I stopped, stunned at the idea and then I
went on in a falter, "--a post-hypnotic suggestion."
"Steve, you'd better come in and meet Marian. Maybe that's what
happened."
"Marian?" I said hollowly.
"She's a high-grade telepath. Master of psi, no less."
My mind went red as I remembered how I'd catalogued her physical charms
on our first meeting in an effort to find out whether she were esper or
telepath. Marian had fine control; her mind must have positively seethed
at my invasion of her privacy. I did not want to meet Marian face to
face right now, but there wasn't a thing I could do about it.
Phillip left his pump and waved for me to follow. He took off in his
jeep and I trailed him to the farmhouse. We went through a dim area that
was almost the ideal shape for a home. The ring was not complete, but
the open part faced the fields behind the house so that good privacy was
ensured for all practical purposes.
On the steps of the verandah stood Marian.
Sight of her was enough to make me forget my self-accusation of a few
moments ago. She stood tall and lissome, the picture of slender, robust
health.
"Come in, Steve," she said, holding out her hand. I took it. Her grip
was firm and hard, but it was gentle. I knew that she could have pulped
my hand if she squeezed hard.
"I'm very happy to see that rumor is wrong and that you're
not--suffering--from Mekstrom's Disease," I told her.
"So now you know, Steve. Too bad."
"Why?"
"Because it adds a load to all of us. Even you." She looked at me
thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "Well, come on in and relax,
Steve. We'll talk it out."
We all went inside.
On a divan in the living room, covered by a light blanket, resting in a
very light snooze, was a woman. Her face was turned away from me, but
the hair and the line of the figure and the--
#Catherine!#
She turned and sat up at once, alive and shocked awake. She rubbed the
sleep from her eyes with swift knuckles and then looked over her hands
at me.
"Steve!" she cried, and all the world and the soul of her was in the
throb of her voice.