"Well--" Malone thought fast. Presenting the case to O'Connor was
impossible; it was too complicated, and it might violate governmental
secrecy somewhere along the line. He decided to wrap it up in a
hypothetical situation. "Doctor," he said, "I know that all the
various manifestations of the _psi_ powers were investigated and named
long before responsible scientists became interested in the subject."
"That," O'Connor said with some reluctance, "is true." He looked sad,
as if he wished they'd waited on naming some of the psionic
manifestations until he'd been born and started investigating them.
Malone tried to imagine a person doing something called O'Connorizing,
and decided he was grateful for history.
"Well, then--" he said.
"At least," O'Connor cut in, "it is true in a rather vague and general
way. You see, Mr. Malone, any precise description of a psionic
manifestation must wait until a metalanguage has grown up to encompass
it; that is, until understanding and knowledge have reached the point
where careful and accurate description can take place."
"Oh," Malone said helplessly. "Sure." He wondered if what O'Connor had
said meant anything, and decided that it probably did, but he didn't
want to know about it.
"While we have not yet reached that point," O'Connor said, "we are
approaching it in our experiments. I am hopeful that, in the near
future--"
"Well," Malone cut in desperately, "sure. Of course. Naturally."
* * * * *
Dr. O'Connor looked miffed. The temperature of the room seemed to
drop several degrees, and Malone swallowed hard and tried to look
ingratiating and helpful, like a student with nothing but A's on his
record.
Before O'Connor could pick up the thread of his sentence, Malone went
on: "What I mean is something like this. Picking up the mental
activity of another person is called telepathy. Floating in the air is
called levitation. Moving objects around is psychokinesis. Going from
one place to another instantaneously is teleportation. And so on."
"The language you use," O'Connor said, still miffed, "is extremely
loose. I might go so far as to say that the statements you have made
are, essentially, meaningless as a result of their lack of rigor."
Malone took a deep breath. "Dr. O'Connor," he said, "you know what I
mean, don't you?"
"I believe so," O'Connor said, with the air of a king granting a
pardon to a particularly repulsive-looking subject in the lowest
income brackets.
"Well, then," Malone said. "Yes or no?"
O'Connor frowned. "Yes or no what?" he said.
"I" Malone blinked. "I meant, the things have names," he said at last.
"All the various psionic manifestations have names."
"Ah," O'Connor said. "Well. I should say." He put his fingertips
together and stared at a point on the white ceiling for a second.
"Yes," he said at last.
Malone breathed a sigh of relief. "Good," he said. "That's what I
wanted to know." He leaned forward. "And if they all do have names,"
he went on, "what is it called, when a large group of people are
forced to act in a certain manner?"
O'Connor shrugged. "Forced?" he said.
"Forced by mental power," Malone said.
There was a second of silence.
"At first," O'Connor said, "I might think of various examples: the
actions of a mob, for example, or the demonstrations of the Indian
Rope Trick, or perhaps the sale of a useless product through
television or through other advertising." Again his face moved, ever
so slightly, in what he obviously believed to be a smile. "The usual
name for such a phenomenon is 'mass hypnotism,' Mr. Malone," he said.
"But that is not, strictly speaking, a _psi_ phenomenon at all.
Studies in that area belong to the field of mob psychology; they are
not properly in my scope." He looked vastly superior to anything and
everything that was outside his scope. Malone concentrated on looking
receptive and understanding.
"Yes?" he said.
O'Connor gave him a look that made Malone feel he'd been caught
cribbing during an exam, but the scientist said nothing to back up the
look. Instead, he went on: "I will grant that there may be an
amplification of the telepathic faculty in the normal individual in
such cases."
"Good," Malone said doubtfully.
"Such an amplification," O'Connor went on, as if he hadn't heard,
"would account for the apparent ... ah ... mental linkage that makes a
mob appear to act as a single organism during certain periods of ...
ah ... stress." He looked judicious for a second, and then nodded.
"However," he said, "other than that, I would doubt that there is any
psionic force involved."
Malone spent a second or two digesting O'Connor's reply. "Well," he
said at last, "I'm not sure that's what I meant. I mean, I'm not sure
I meant to ask that question." He took a breath and decided to start
all over. "It's not like a mob," he said, "with everybody all doing
the same thing at the same time. It's more like a group of men, all
separated, without any apparent connections between any of the men.
And they're all working toward a common goal. All doing different
things, but all with the same objective. See?"
"Of course I do," O'Connor said flatly. "But what you're suggesting--"
He looked straight at Malone. "Have you had any experience of this ...
phenomenon?"
"Experience?" Malone said.
"I believe you have had," O'Connor said. "Such a concept could not
have come to you in a theoretical manner. You must be involved with an
actual situation very much like the one you describe."
Malone swallowed. "Me?" he said.
"Mr. Malone," O'Connor said. "May I remind you that this is Yucca
Flats? That the security checks here are as careful as anywhere in the
world? That I, myself, have top-security clearance for my special
projects? You do not need to watch your words here."
"It's not security," Malone said. "Anyhow, it's not only security. But
things are pretty complicated."
"I assure you," O'Connor said, "that I will be able to understand even
events which you feel are complex."
Malone swallowed again, hard. "I didn't mean--" he started.
"Please, Mr. Malone," O'Connor said. His voice was colder than usual.
Malone had the feeling that he was about to take the extra chair away.
"Go on," O'Connor said. "Explain yourself."
Malone took a deep breath. He started with the facts he'd been told by
Burris, and went straight through to the interviews of the two
computer-secretary technicians by Boyd and Company.
It took quite a while. By the time he had finished, O'Connor wasn't
looking frozen any more; he'd apparently forgotten to keep the freezer
coils running. Instead, his face showed frank bewilderment, and great
interest. "I never heard of such a thing," he said. "Never. Not at any
time."
"But--"
O'Connor shook his head. "I have never heard of a psionic
manifestation on that order," he said. It seemed to be a painful
admission. "Something that would make a random group of men co-operate
in that manner--why, it's completely new."
"It is?" Malone said, wondering if, when it was all investigated and
described, it might be called O'Connorizing. Then he wondered how
anybody was going to go about investigating it and describing it, and
sank even deeper into gloom.
[Illustration]
"Completely new," O'Connor said. "You may take my word." Then, slowly,
he began to brighten again, with all the glitter of newly-formed ice.
"As a matter of fact," he said, in a tone more like his usual one,
"Mr. Malone, I don't think it's possible."
"But it happened," Malone said. "It's still happening. All over."
O'Connor's lips tightened. "I have given my opinion," he said. "I do
not believe that such a thing is possible. There must be some other
explanation."
"All right," Malone said agreeably. "I'll bite. What is it?"