Mad Professor by Rudy Rucker

Elfland, academia, and the Gold Country. Over time, Jory came to see himself as an incredibly wise and fortunate man, as did his new step-grandson Jack, who often came to visit in the summers.
    Dropping the boy off, Jack’s mother Hilda always conversed pleasantly with Jory, realizing she owed him credit for her professional successes extending his rhizomal subdimension theory—not that she was ever able to replicate his antigravity breakthrough.
    As for the alvar, they never returned—at least not to Elf Circle Farm.
    And, oh, yes, Bev’s tail. It was there for good. During the first months of living on the farm, Bev hid the tail by wrapping it around her waist. But then, at Jory’s urging, she began letting it hang out. Her theater group approved.

PANPSYCHISM PROVED
    â€œTHERE’S  a new way for me to find out what you’re thinking,” said Amy, sitting down across from her coworker Rick in the lab’s sunny cafeteria. She looked very excited, very pleased with herself.
    â€œYou’ve hired a private eye?” said Rick. “I promise, Amy, we’ll get together for something one of these days. I’ve been busy, is all.” He seemed uncomfortable at being cornered by her.
    â€œI’ve invented a new technology,” said Amy. “The mindlink. We can directly experience each other’s thoughts. Let’s do it now.”
    â€œAh, but then you’d know way too much about me,” said Rick, not wanting the conversation to turn serious. “A guy like me, I’m better off as a mystery man.”
    â€œThe real mystery is why you aren’t laid off,” said Amy tartly. “You need friends like me, Rick. And I’m dead serious about the mindlink. I do it with a special quantum jiggly-doo. There will be so many apps.”
    â€œLike a way to find out what my boss thinks he asked me to do?”
    â€œCommunication, yes. The mindlink will be too expensive to replace the cell phone—at least for now—but it opens up the possibility of reaching the inarticulate, the mentally ill, and, yeah, your boss. Emotions in a quandary? Let the mindlink techs debug you!”
    â€œSo now I’m curious,” said Rick. “Let’s see the quantum jiggly-doo.”
    Amy held up two glassine envelopes, each holding a tiny pinch of black powder. “I have some friends over in the heavy hardware division, and they’ve been giving me microgram quantities of entangled pairs of carbon atoms. Each atom in this envelope of mindlink-dust is entangled with an atom in this other one. The atom-pairs’ information is coherent but locally inaccessible—until the atoms get entangled with observer systems.”
    â€œAnd if you and I are the observers, that puts our minds in synch, huh?” said Rick. “Do you plan to snort your black dust off the cafeteria table or what?”
    â€œPutting it on your tongue is fine,” said Amy, sliding one of the envelopes across the tabletop.
    â€œYou’ve tested it before?”
    â€œFirst I gave it to a couple of monkeys. Bonzo watched me hiding a banana behind a door while Queenie was gone, and then I gave the dust to Bonzo and Queenie, and Queenie knew right away where the banana was. I tried it with a catatonic person too. She and I swallowed mindlink dust together and I was able to single out the specific thought patterns tormenting her. I walked her through the steps in slow motion. It really helped her.”
    â€œYou were able to get medical approval for that?” said Rick, looking dubious.
    â€œNo, I just did it. I hate red tape. And now it’s time for a peer-to-peer test. With you, Rick. Each of us swallows our mindlink dust and makes notes on what we see in the other one’s mind.”
    â€œYou’re sure the dust isn’t toxic?” asked Rick, flicking the envelope with a fingernail.
    â€œIt’s only carbon, Rick. In a peculiar kind of