being unique is a responsibility as well as a privilege. You can’t cure that. How strong’s the telepath?”
Molly brightened. “I think he’s very strong, but he’s been blocking thoughts, the way they all do. Out of fear. He may need a lot of training.”
“No, not too much,” Henry said easily, pulling his chair close to Molly and clasping her free hand. “Young fellow, isn’t he? Welsh extraction, Welsh name. Right?”
“I just sent the report in …” Molly began, startled, and stopped mid-sentence, arrested by Henry’s knowing look. “Not another one, Henry?”
“They do seem to appear right on schedule,” Henry grinned at her but there was a shadow in his eyes. “Right on schedule. One day I’ll be wrong.”
“Don’t Henry.” She clasped his hand tightly, reassuringly, knowing the strain of his unfortunate infallibility, knowing that some of the events he foresaw he’d rather not have seen. “And, he is, as you predicted, Welsh,” she went on in a light voice, “by name, Daffyd op Owen. Very likeable chap. He’s important?”
Henry nodded. “He won’t need more than some basic pointers and a few quiet weeks here to wash the ‘noise’ out of his mind and learn to project as well as receive.”
“Well, that’s one on the plus side of the ledger.” She rotated her shoulders to ease the day’s strains but Henry’s disclosure about young op Owen made her feel much better about her labors.
“When is he moving in?”
“Don’t you know?” she asked in a bantering fashion.
“What I know I wish I didn’t. What I’d give anything to know, I have to wait and see.”
She smiled at him lovingly. “You mean, if we retain Beechwoods?” When he nodded, she chided him gently. “How often have you been wrong in the merest detail?”
“It’s not how often I’m right Molly luv, it’s will I be wrong
this
time, this once? This important, crucial, critical once? Such a terrible gift, luv. Terrible when your knowledge means the loss of a friend …”
“Henry, your recognition, the very challenge of the Center,” and her arm gesture encompassed all of Beechwoods, “have kept George Henner alive … and kicking.” She peered into Henry’s face, reassuring him by touch, word and look. “He’s determined to do you out of Beechwoods, if only by a minute. That determination alone has strengthened his hold on life. I’ve seen his medical reports, Henry. I know.” She leaned back in her chair. “You’ve done him quite a favor and he knows it. I shouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t left the Center Beechwoods anyway.”
“He hasn’t. He showed me the will.”
Molly opened her mouth to say something then thought better of it.
“All right,” Henry went on, catching her look of mischief, “so he could write a second one in secret … No, we’ve a wager on and …”
“I know what you mean, hoping to win the wager loses a friend.”
“I can see horizons wider than mortality but I cannot always see the sparrow fall.”
“So young op Owen will be your successor?” George Honner was in a very testy mood that morning.
“Yes, but of course, not for some time yet …”
“You’ve got it all foreseen, have you?”
“Certainly the basic problems …”
“Ha! I thought you’d already solved the basic problems …”
“By no means, my friend,” and Henry’s laugh was mirthless. “I’ve had the easy part. No, really. The establishment of the Center—and others in time in strategic parts of the globe … is only the first bit: scarcely the worst.
“Once we’d elevated parapsychic Talents to a demonstrable, scientific basis, it was only a question of some decent organizational effort to make us self-sufficient and independent. We did dodge the governmental attempt to take control because we operate more efficiently as a private agency and because you could imagine the tax payers’ shrieks about funding tea-leaf readers? Funding was no real problem once
Molly brightened. “I think he’s very strong, but he’s been blocking thoughts, the way they all do. Out of fear. He may need a lot of training.”
“No, not too much,” Henry said easily, pulling his chair close to Molly and clasping her free hand. “Young fellow, isn’t he? Welsh extraction, Welsh name. Right?”
“I just sent the report in …” Molly began, startled, and stopped mid-sentence, arrested by Henry’s knowing look. “Not another one, Henry?”
“They do seem to appear right on schedule,” Henry grinned at her but there was a shadow in his eyes. “Right on schedule. One day I’ll be wrong.”
“Don’t Henry.” She clasped his hand tightly, reassuringly, knowing the strain of his unfortunate infallibility, knowing that some of the events he foresaw he’d rather not have seen. “And, he is, as you predicted, Welsh,” she went on in a light voice, “by name, Daffyd op Owen. Very likeable chap. He’s important?”
Henry nodded. “He won’t need more than some basic pointers and a few quiet weeks here to wash the ‘noise’ out of his mind and learn to project as well as receive.”
“Well, that’s one on the plus side of the ledger.” She rotated her shoulders to ease the day’s strains but Henry’s disclosure about young op Owen made her feel much better about her labors.
“When is he moving in?”
“Don’t you know?” she asked in a bantering fashion.
“What I know I wish I didn’t. What I’d give anything to know, I have to wait and see.”
She smiled at him lovingly. “You mean, if we retain Beechwoods?” When he nodded, she chided him gently. “How often have you been wrong in the merest detail?”
“It’s not how often I’m right Molly luv, it’s will I be wrong
this
time, this once? This important, crucial, critical once? Such a terrible gift, luv. Terrible when your knowledge means the loss of a friend …”
“Henry, your recognition, the very challenge of the Center,” and her arm gesture encompassed all of Beechwoods, “have kept George Henner alive … and kicking.” She peered into Henry’s face, reassuring him by touch, word and look. “He’s determined to do you out of Beechwoods, if only by a minute. That determination alone has strengthened his hold on life. I’ve seen his medical reports, Henry. I know.” She leaned back in her chair. “You’ve done him quite a favor and he knows it. I shouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t left the Center Beechwoods anyway.”
“He hasn’t. He showed me the will.”
Molly opened her mouth to say something then thought better of it.
“All right,” Henry went on, catching her look of mischief, “so he could write a second one in secret … No, we’ve a wager on and …”
“I know what you mean, hoping to win the wager loses a friend.”
“I can see horizons wider than mortality but I cannot always see the sparrow fall.”
“So young op Owen will be your successor?” George Honner was in a very testy mood that morning.
“Yes, but of course, not for some time yet …”
“You’ve got it all foreseen, have you?”
“Certainly the basic problems …”
“Ha! I thought you’d already solved the basic problems …”
“By no means, my friend,” and Henry’s laugh was mirthless. “I’ve had the easy part. No, really. The establishment of the Center—and others in time in strategic parts of the globe … is only the first bit: scarcely the worst.
“Once we’d elevated parapsychic Talents to a demonstrable, scientific basis, it was only a question of some decent organizational effort to make us self-sufficient and independent. We did dodge the governmental attempt to take control because we operate more efficiently as a private agency and because you could imagine the tax payers’ shrieks about funding tea-leaf readers? Funding was no real problem once
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