"What are you talking about, another one?" Malone said. "We have one.
Does anybody else have any more?"
"Well," Burris said, "we just got a report on another one--maybe.
Besides yours, I mean."
"I hope the one you've got is in better shape than the one I've got,"
Malone said. He took a deep breath, and then spat it all out at once:
"The one we've found is a little old lady. She thinks she's Queen
Elizabeth I. She's a telepath, sure, but she's nuts."
"Queen Elizabeth?" Burris said. "Of England?"
"That's right," Malone said. He held his breath.
"Damn it," Burris exploded, "they've already got one!"
Malone sighed. "This is another one," he said. "Or, rather, the
original one. She also claims she's immortal."
"Lives forever?" Burris said. "You mean like that?"
"Immortal," Malone said. "Right."
Burris nodded. Then he looked worried. "Tell me, Malone," he said.
"She _isn't_, is she?"
"Isn't immortal, you mean?" Malone said. Burris nodded. Malone said
confidently: "Of course not."
There was a little pause. Malone thought things over.
Hell, maybe she was immortal. Stranger things had happened, hadn't
they?
He looked over at Dr. Harman. "How about that?" he said. "Could she be
immortal?"
The psychiatrist shook his head decisively. "She's been here for over
forty years, Mr. Malone, ever since her late teens. Her records show
all that, and her birth certificate is in perfect order. Not a
chance."
Malone sighed and turned back to the phone. "Of course she isn't
immortal, Chief," he said. "She couldn't be. Nobody is. Just a nut."
"I was afraid of that," Burris said. "Afraid?" Malone said.
Burris nodded. "We've got another one, or anyhow we think we have," he
said. "If he checks out, that is. Right here in Washington."
"Not at--Rice Pavilion?" Malone asked.
"No," Burris said absently. "St. Elizabeths."