produced a large box. "A messenger brought it," he
said. "From the Psychical Research Society," he said. "What is it,
ghosts?"

"Dehydrated," Malone said. "Just add ectoplasm and out they come,
shouting _Boo!_ at everybody."

"Sounds wonderful," the agent-in-charge said. "Can I come to the
party?"

"First," Malone said judiciously, "you'd have to be dead. Of course I
can arrange that--"

"Thanks," the agent-in-charge said, leaving in a hurry. Malone went on
down to his office and opened the box. It contained books, pamphlets
and reports from Sir Lewis, all dealing with some area of telepathic
projection. He spent a few minutes looking them over and trying to
make some connected sense out of them, but finally he gave up and just
sat and thought. The material seemed to be no help at all; it told him
even less than Dr. O'Connor had.

What he needed, he decided, was somebody to talk to. But who? He
couldn't talk to the FBI, and nobody else knew much about what he was
trying to investigate. He thought of Her Majesty and rejected the
notion with a sigh. No, what he needed was somebody smart and quick,
somebody who could be depended on, somebody with training and
knowledge.

And then, very suddenly, he knew who he wanted.

"Well, now, Sir Kenneth," he said. "Let's put everything together and
see what happens."

"Indeed," said Sir Kenneth Malone, "it is high time we did so, Sirrah.
Proceed: I shall attend."

* * * * *

"Let's start from the beginning," Malone said. "We know there's
confusion in all parts of the country--in all parts of the world, I
guess. And we know that confusion is being caused by carefully timed
accidents and errors. We also know that these errors appear to be
accompanied by violent bursts of psionic static--violent energy. And
we know, further, that on three specific occasions, these bursts of
energy were immediately followed by a reversal of policy in the mind
of the person on the receiving end."

"You mean," Sir Kenneth put in, "that these gentlemen changed their
opinions."

"Correct," Malone said. "I refer, of course, to the firm of Brubitsch,
Borbitsch and Garbitsch, Spying Done Cheap."

"Indeed," Sir Kenneth said. "Then the operators of this strange force,
whatever it may prove to be, must have some interest in allowing the
spies' confession?"

"Maybe," Malone said. "Let's leave that for later. To get back to the
beginning of all this: it seems to m