Summit by Richard Bowker

to everyone to sit down.
    "First, Mr. Fulton," Williams said, "I should say that we are aware of certain causes you have espoused over the years, certain statements you have made—in short, we are aware that you have not always been in sympathy with the American government."
    "The American government is okay. It's war I don't like," Fulton replied.
    "Of course. In any case, all we ask is that you listen to what we have to say with an open mind. We can't force you to keep what we say secret, but we earnestly request that you do so. All right?"
    Fulton shrugged. "All right."
    Williams smiled. "Great. Lawrence, will you start the show?"
    Hill got up and closed the metal blinds that hung in front of the picture windows. Then he pushed a button, and a screen appeared on the wall opposite Fulton. He pushed another button, and a woman's face appeared on the screen.
    Fulton stared at it. The slide was grainy and slightly out of focus—blown up from a snapshot, perhaps. The woman had short blond hair. She was young and pretty, with high Nordic cheekbones and wide eyes. She was wearing a shapeless coat and a scarf, and appeared to be walking in front of a store. Fulton could make out the Cyrillic letters on the store's sign.
    "This woman's name is Valentina Borisova," Williams said. "She is the most dangerous human being in the world."
    Williams paused melodramatically. Fulton looked at Williams as he made the pronouncement, waiting for something more. Surely there would be more. When nothing further was said, his eyes returned to the photograph. Valentina Borisova was not a very dangerous-looking woman. In the photograph, she looked scared. Her head was turned slightly, as if to glance behind her and make sure no one was following. Her gray eyes seemed moist, as if on the verge of tears. The photograph made Fulton feel very strange.
    A woman steps toward him out of the darkness, holding a rose in front of her ...
    But maybe someday.
    "Why is she dangerous?" he managed to say.
    "Miss Borisova is a professional psychic in the employ of the KGB. That's the Soviet equivalent of the CIA, Mr. Fulton."
    Fulton nodded. He was ignorant about many things, but he had heard of the KGB.
    "Miss Borisova's particular ability is to change minds," Williams went on. "Not the way you and I think of changing minds, but by some sort of ESP. She uses a device developed by this man."
    Hill changed the slide. Valentina Borisova vanished abruptly, and Fulton was looking at a bearded man with his mouth open and a hand upraised, as if issuing a call to battle.
    "His name is Maxim Trofimov," Williams said. "He is a researcher at the—what is it, Jim?"
    Houghton glanced at his notes. "The Laboratory of Bioelectronics of the A. S. Popov All-Union Scientific and Technical Society of Radio Technology and Electrical Communications," he intoned.
    "Sounds impressive, eh?" Williams said with a grin. "Anyway, that's where a good deal of the psychic research is being done in the Soviet Union, and Trofimov is one of their leading lights. He has developed a machine that he calls a 'hyperspace amplifier,' but everyone else simply calls it 'the pyramid.' Using it, Borisova can evidently affect the mind of a person nearby. She can change that person's most deeply held beliefs. She can, for example, turn a capitalist into a dedicated communist."
    Williams paused again, evidently looking for a response. What was going on here? Fulton wondered. He was nervous; he was excited. "Like a hypnotist?" he asked. "The power of suggestion?"
    "Somewhat. Except that she need not be in the presence of her subject. And the effects are much longer lasting. In fact, we have no reason to think they are not permanent. And most important, the subject has no knowledge that anything has happened to him, no way of telling that it is anything but a legitimate 'conversion.'"
    "How do you know about it, then?"
    Williams nodded. "Good question. Bertram, why don't you take it from here?"
    Bertram