Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

52 and vivid, in a way that the murky mind of the paranoid had never known. The ancient Greeks knew what the mechanism of identification meant— they told the story of Narcissus. And the lure caught Jasper Horne, who could identify with no other man than himself, or a god made in his own image. His paranoid egotism reflected itself in that ego-image and was re- flected again and so endlessly, while Cody delicately tested and touched the thoughts of the other and watched for the first slackening of consciousness. At least Horne had paused in his mental building of the concept that would destroy Pomerance. The para- noid hesitated, unsure, his grasp of reality telling him that the Baldies could not, would not send an emissary to capitulate, and that therefore his senses, which had warned him of Cody’s presence, had lied. Such panics were not unknown to Horne. So he could accept—tentatively—the sug- gestion that his senses had tricked him. Very, very gently, still maintaining that dazzling ego-image of Jasper Horne like a glittering lure on a baited hook, Cody sent quiet cue- thoughts slipping into hesitant mind. At first they were obviously true thoughts, true, at least, according to the paranoid’s system of belief. They were pleasant, reassuring thoughts. Lulled, Horne watched the ego-image which he himself had often summoned up—yet never before so clearly and dazzlingly. Narcissus watched his image in the clear, deep pool of Cody’s mind. So, sitting alone in the restaurant booth, Horne let his wariness relax little by little, and Cody’s soft assault moved into a new area. The thoughts Cody sent out now were not quite true, but still not false enough to startle the paranoid, who took them ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION for his own thoughts. I’ve had these hallucinations before. Usually just be- fore going to sleep. 'm having them now. So I must be going to sleep. Iam sleepy. My eyelids feel heavy— The lulling, monotonous thoughts began to submerge Horne’s conscious- ness. Gradually the hypnosis grew. Narcissus watched Narcissus— Sleep, sleep, Cody’s mind whispered. You will not waken until I command you. Nothing else will awaken you. Sleep deeply—sleep. The paranoid slept. | Cody began to run along the street as fast as he could. No other Baldy in American Gun was nearer to the research laboratory than he was, and if Pomerance were to be saved, it was his job alone. And he might easily fail. Jasper Horne was sitting in hypnotic sleep in a crowded restaurant, and at any moment someone might speak to him or shake him back into con- sciousness. The hypnosis was not deep. It might hold, or it might break at any moment. In spite of Cody’s final suggestions to the paranoid, the latter could be awakened quite easily, and by anyone. Cody ran on. Suppose he got Pomerance out of the lab in time? Could he get back to the restaurant again before Horne wakened? No, Cody thought, the hypnosis “isn’t deep enough. It’ll be a miracle if Horne stays under more than a few minutes. If I can save Pomerance, that will be miracle enough. But as soon as Horne realizes what’s happened, he won’t wait. He’ll start the pogrom. It’s all ready, here in American Gun; he’s planted the dyna- mite, and all he has to do is touch the detonator. All right. I can’t be sure that what I’m doing is right. I think it is. I can’t be sure. If I save Pomer- ance, Horne will probably start the pogrom before I can get back and kill him. But I can’t let Pomerance die; comniicloookks.€© nn