The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Right Time, by Walter Bupp

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: The Right Time

Author: Walter Bupp

Illustrator: George Schelling

Release Date: December 27, 2009 [EBook #30770]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIGHT TIME ***

Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

Transcriber's Note:

This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction December
1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed.

THE RIGHT TIME

The trouble with prophets is that if they're accurate, the
news won't do you any good, and if they aren't accurate,
they're no good. Unless, of course, they're more than just
prophets....

WALTER BUPP

Illustrated by George Schelling

* * * * *

"Don't let the old goat rattle you, Pheola," I said as we rode the
elevator to the penthouse. "He'll try. Just remember, he is the one
who has to say O.K. if we are to give you some training."

Her eyes rolled and she moaned softly, clinging to my arm. "Oh, Billy
Joe!" she whispered. "I _don't_ want to fail you!"

Maragon has some pretty creepy types in his office and the
receptionist that day was no exception. She was one of those twitchy
hyper-thyroid clairvoyants that he likes to test.

"Don't tell me," the receptionist twitched proudly as we came in. "I
know!" She got up from behind her desk and led us to the Grand
Master's private office.

I intended to make her guess whom I had with me, but that didn't
bother her. "Dr. Walter Bupp and Pheola Rountree," she announced
smugly. Clairvoyants live in a condition of perpetual thrill with
their powers.

Maragon's penthouse office has glass walls on two sides. He was
prowling back and forth in front of his desk, sharply lit by the
bright sunlight that streamed in. His gray shock of hair glistened,
and his bushy eyebrows shaded his face. He radiated impat