That Sweet Little Old Lady Part 10

"Whatever my _mind_ is," Dr. Harman said. "Reading it. Oh, my."

"Dr. Harman," Malone began, but the psychiatrist gave him a bright blank stare.

"Don't you understand?" he said. "She's a telepath."

"We--"

The phone on Dr. Harman's desk chimed gently. He glanced at it and said: "Excuse me. The phone." He picked up the receiver and said: "h.e.l.lo?"

There was no image on the screen.

But the voice was image enough. "This is Andrew J. Burris," it said. "Is Kenneth J. Malone there?"

"Mr. Malone?" the psychiatrist said. "I mean, Mr. Burris? Mr. Malone is here. Yes. Oh, my. Do you want to talk to him?"

"No, you idiot," the voice said. "I just want to know if he's all tucked in."

"Tucked in?" Dr. Harman gave the phone a sudden smile. "A joke," he said. "It _is_ a joke, isn't it? The way things have been happening, you never know whether--"

"A joke," Burris' voice said. "That's right. Yes. Am I talking to one of the patients?"

Dr. Harman gulped, got mad, and thought better of it. At last he said, very gently: "I'm not at all sure," and handed the phone to Malone.

The FBI agent said: "h.e.l.lo, chief. Things are a little confused."

Burris' face appeared on the screen. "Confused, sure," he said. "I feel confused already." He took a breath. "I called the San Francisco office, and they told me you and Boyd were out there. What's going on?"

Malone said cautiously: "We've found a telepath."

Burris' eyes widened slightly. "Another one?"

"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.

"d.a.m.n 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.

h.e.l.l, 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. n.o.body is. Just a nut."

"I was afraid of that," Burris said.

"Afraid?" Malone said.

Burris nodded. "We've got another one--if he checks out," he said.

"Right here in Washington--St. Elizabeths."

"Another nut?"

"Strait-jacket case," Burris said. "Delusions of persecution. Paranoia.

And a lot of other things I can't p.r.o.nounce. But I'm sending him on out to Yucca Flats anyhow, under guard. You might find a use for him."

"Oh, sure," Malone said.

"We can't afford to overlook a thing," Burris said.

Malone sighed. "I know," he said. "But all the same--"

"Don't worry about a thing, Malone," Burris said with a palpably false air of confidence. "You get this Queen Elizabeth of yours out of there and take her to Yucca Flats, too."

Malone considered the possibilities. Maybe they would find more telepaths. Maybe all the telepaths would be nuts. It didn't seem unlikely. Imagine having a talent that n.o.body would believe you had. It might very easily drive you crazy to be faced with a situation like that.

And there they would be in Yucca Flats. Kenneth J. Malone, and a convention of looney-bin inhabitants.

Fun!

Malone began to wonder why he had gone into FBI work in the first place.

"Listen, chief," he said. "I--"

"Sure, I understand," Burris said quickly. "She's batty. But what else can we do? Malone, don't do anything you'll regret."