* * *

Who was he? Paul Wendell? Yes, he knew with incontrovertible certainty
that he was Paul Wendell. But he also knew, with almost equal certainty,
that he was Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton. He was living--had
lived--in the latter half of the nineteenth century. But he knew nothing
of the Captain other than the certainty of identity; nothing else of
that blinding mind-touch remained.

Again he scoured his memory--Paul Wendell's memory--checking and
rechecking the area just before that semi-fatal bullet had crashed
through his brain.

And finally, at long last, he knew with certainty where his calculations
had gone astray. He knew positively why eight men had gone insane.

Then he went again in search of other minds, and this time he knew he
would not bounce.

QUASI UNA FANTASIA POCO ANDANTE PIANISSIMO

An old man sat quietly in his lawnchair, puffing contentedly on an
expensive briar pipe and making corrections with a fountain pen on a
thick sheaf of typewritten manuscript. Around him stretched an expanse
of green lawn, dotted here and there with squat cycads that looked like
overgrown pineapples; in the distance, screening the big house from the
road, stood a row of stately palms, their fronds stirring lightly in the
faint, warm California breeze.

The old man raised his head as a car pulled into the curving driveway.
The warm hum of the turboelectric engine stopped, and a man climbed out
of the vehicle. He walked with easy strides across the grass to where
the elderly gentleman sat. He was lithe, of indeterminate age, but with
a look of great determination. There was something in his face that made
the old man vaguely uneasy--not with fear but with a sense of deep
respect.

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"I have some news for you, Mr. President," the younger one said.

The old man smiled wryly. "I haven't been President for fourteen years.
Most people call me 'Senator' or just plain 'Mister'."

* * * * *

The younger man smiled back. "Very well, Senator. My name is Camberton,
James Camberton. I brought some information that may possibly relieve
your mind--or, again, it may not."

"You sound ominous, Mr. Camberton. I hope you'll remember that I've been
retired from the political field for nearly five years. What is this
shattering news?"

"Paul Wendell's body was buried yesterday."

The Senator looked blank for a second, then recognition came int