feel
tired or bored just standing there and listening. There was not even an
overpowering sense of urgency and annoyance, although he wanted to find
Zelda and this lecture was keeping him from looking for her. It was as
if his emotions were somehow being reduced in intensity. They existed,
but lacked the strength they should have had.

So he stood almost patiently and listened to Dr. Harding say, "Our
civilization is considerably older than yours. For many of your
centuries, we have explored the Universe, both physically and
telepathically. During this exploration, we discovered your planet. We
tried to establish communication, but there were grave difficulties. It
was the time of your Dark Ages, and I'm sorry to report that those
people we made contact with were generally burned at the stake." He
shook his head regretfully. "Although your civilization has made many
advances in some ways, communication is still hampered--as much by false
knowledge as by real ignorance. You'll see in a moment why it is very
unfortunate."

"Here it comes," Clocker said to those around him. "He's getting ready
finally to slip us the sting."

The woman in the housecoat looked indignant. "The nerve of a crumb like
you making a crack about such a fine, decent gentleman!"

"A blind man could see he's sincere," argued the tailor. "Just think of
it--_me_, in a big experiment! Will Molly be surprised when she finds
out!"

"She won't find out and I'll bet she's surprised right now," Clocker
assured him.

"The human body is an unbelievably complicated organism," Dr. Harding
was saying. The statement halted the private discussion and seemed to
please his listeners for some reason. "We learned that when we tried to
assume control of individuals for the purpose of communication. Billions
of neural relays, thousands of unvolitional functions--it is no
exaggeration to compare our efforts with those of a monkey in a power
plant. At our direction, for example, several writers produced books
that were fearfully garbled. Our attempts with artists were no more
successful. The static of interstellar space was partly responsible, but
mostly it was the fact that we simply couldn't work our way through the
maze that is the human mind and body."

* * * * *

The crowd was sympathetic. Clocker was neither weary nor bored, merely
longing for Zelda and, as a student of grifts, dimly irritated. Why hold
back when the chumps we