Astounding Science Fiction (British edition) — page 98: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

96 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION Dr. Ames’ study. He could feel the efforts his father was making to be casual and normal about it all; Bob Carter, perhaps only a janitor, but a solid citizen, independently proud. Didn’t everyone call him Mr. Carter? Recognize his dignity? Joey’s father, with his dignity upon him, met them at the doorway of the building; looked furtively and quickly at the rusty black clothing of his wife, inadvertently comparing the textiles of her old suit to the rich materials the coeds wore with such careless style. “You look right nice, Madge,” he said heavily, to reassure her, and took her arm gallantly. When they had reached the second floor, up the broad stairs, he turned to Joey. “I’ve been telling the professors how bright you are, Joey. They want to talk to you.” He chuckled agree- ably. Pop, don’t laugh like that. I know you’re ashamed. But don’t lie to me, Pop. I know. “Just answer all their questions, Joey,” his father was saying. “Be truthful.” He emphasized the word again, ““Truthful, I said.” “Sure, Pop,” Joey answered duti- fully; knowing his father hoped he wouldn’t be truthful—and that his mother might die if he were. He won- dered if he might hear the whisperings from the professors’ minds. What if he couldn’t hear! How would he know how to answer them, if he couldn’t hear the whispers! Maybe he couldn’t hear, wouldn’t know how to answer, and then his mother would die! His face turned pale, and he felt as if he were numb; in a dull dead trance as they walked down the hall and into a study off one of the big classrooms. “This here is my wife and my son, Dr. Martin,” his father was saying. Then to Joey’s mother. “Dr. Martin is Dr. Ames’ assistant.” The boy is very frightened. The thought came clearly and distinctly to Joey from the doctor’s mind. “Not any more,’ Joey said, and didn’t realize until it was done that he had exclaimed it aloud in his relief. He could hear! “TI beg your pardon, Joey?” Dr. Martin turned from greeting his mother and looked with quick pene- tration into Joey’s eyes. His own sharp blue eyes had exclamation points in them, accented by his raised blond brows in a round face. “But of course he is Dr. Ames’ assistant,” his father corrected him heartily, with an edge behind the words. You little fool, you’re starting in to demonstrate already. That isn’t what the boy meant. Dr. Martin was racing the thought through his mind. I had the thought that the boy was frightened, and he imme- diately said he wasn’t. All the patho- logical symptoms of fright disappeared instantly, too. Yes. Put into the matrix of the telepath, all the things Carter told us this morning about him would fit. I hadn’t considered that. And I know that old fool Ames would never consider it. If there ever was a closed mind against ESP, he’s got it. Orthodox psychology! “We will teach nothing here but orthodox psychology, Dr. Martin,” Ames had said. “‘It is the duty of some of us to insist a theory be proved through time and tradition. We will not rush down every side path, ac- cepting theories as unsubstantial as the tobacco smoke which subsidizes them.” So much for ESP. Well, even Rhine says that the vast body of psychology, in spite of all the evidence, still will not accept the fact of ESP. But if this kid were a telepath—a conniclbooks.conn