distance of eight inches to make sure you were the right guy.

But she had Psi powers. She had been hot as a firecracker predicting
the roll of dice on the gambling tables, the very dice that I was
tipping with telekinesis. Much more important to me personally, she
had announced that she was a healer, and on my dare had "laid hands"
on me, and brought my dead right arm to life.

My obligation as a Lodge official was to bring her to the Manhattan
Chapter for measurement and training, no matter what the Grand Master
felt about the reality of her powers of precognition. Maragon had been
about as obstreperous as I had figured. We have a lot of trouble
working together, probably because he resents my TK powers. He's good
at it, but I'm a good deal better. That's why I'm a Thirty-third
Degree member of the Lodge.

* * * * *

Leaving Pheola's new home, I went next door to my own apartment and
checked in by phone with Memorial Hospital. Fortunately, I was not on
call, and could take a few steps to find out how much PC Pheola really
had. I went down to the forty-third floor, where we have our
laboratories, and let myself into the data-processing center.

They don't like me to do that. That place is under full temperature
and humidity control, and every time an outsider barges in the whole
system does nip-ups.

Norty Baskins came scurrying away from a card sorter. "What's this!"
he exclaimed. "Oh, it's you, Lefty." His face went solemn with his
effort, and I felt a twinge in my ear lobe. I returned the grip,
tweaking his ear the same way. He began to smile, realizing that I had
felt his lift and was returning it.

"You shouldn't be in here, Lefty," he said. "You know the rules."

"And I know this is the time to break them, Norty," I said. "I've got
something really rare for you."

"Rare?"

"This time I've really got one," I insisted. "A precog who can call
things with pin-point accuracy."

"Not again, Lefty," he said, disgusted. "Aren't you getting a little
tired of striking out on that prediction? You've brought half a dozen
flops in here in the last year."

"Not Pheola," I said. "Listen, Norty, I want this girl measured."

"I thought you said she was pin-point accurate," he sneered. "And what
does Maragon say?"

I waved a hand at him and walked over to sit on one of the lab stools.
He went to the sorter and pulled cards from the bins, joggling them up
into one solid stack that he