“But what about Towne’s anti-Psi legislation? He’s always hated Psi-Highs.”
“Nonsense. Towne has been a loyal servant of the North American people. He’s fought for what he thought was right, and has exposed himself to great dangers and personal vilification in order to do it. Sometimes he hasn’t seen the Psi-Highs’ side of things, but that’s not a matter for us to be vindictive about at a time like this.” He looked around the circle soberly. “The fact remains that he’s in the hands of a dangerous enemy, and it’s our job to save him if it can possibly be done.” He nodded, and stepped into the Security limousine. It honked its way through the crowd, then dipped down into the government tunnel that led to Central Washington and Capitol Hill.
Inside the car, Paul picked up a newspaper and peered at it eagerly. The full-color picture of the President’s grave face stared out at him in 3-D, with photos of Robert Roberts and Ben Towne on either side. It was an old picture of Towne, almost a flattering picture. Paul grinned as he read the story rapidly:
“The President of the North American States revealed tonight in a special press conference that Medical Affairs Secretary Benjamin Towne was kidnaped from a secret meeting with Federal Security agents last night in what was described as the first step in a plan for large-scale invasion of Earth by an alien race from another planet. The President reported that one alien, believed to be fully telepathic, has been at large in the country since his landing near Gutenberg, Iowa, last May 26th.
“The alien’s presence was first detected by a loyal Psi-High citizen of Des Moines, Iowa, and was reported immediately to the Federal Security Commission. Robert H. Roberts, Chief of Security, has been active in directing a nationwide dragnet to capture the alien.
“Secretary Towne left his home last night at 11:00 p.m. in response to a call allegedly from Commissioner Roberts. It is believed that the call was forged by the use of a dummy-film; the secretary was reported missing when he did not return home. The two aides who accompanied him apparently suffered severely from the encounter with the alien’s telepathic powers; their condition is reported satisfactory but they were unavailable for questioning at the Hoffman Medical Center this morning.
“The President commented on the excellent and selfless work of certain Psi-High citizens during the past months in the course of a manhunt that has been shrouded in secrecy. The alien’s telepathic powers invariably overcame the efforts of psi-negative individuals, but through the efforts of the Psi-Highs, Commissioner Roberts has expressed every hope of ending the search within days and securing Secretary Towne’s release. It is believed that Towne was kidnaped by the alien in order to obtain information regarding the extent of psi-development in our culture, prior to a large-scale invasion.
“Notable among the directors of the nationwide search is Security Agent Paul L. Faircloth of this city, whose work with Security has been so secret that the fact of his Psi-High status has been carefully concealed, even from Federal Registry—”
Faircloth flipped the page, glancing at the smaller headines. An interview with Dr. Abrams reporting the training jrogram for Psi-Highs in progress at the Hoffman Center; i long article, discussing the value of Psi-High powers in;ombating a ruthless telepathic alien force; an article by Roberts, very carefully worded, explaining that if one telepathic alien had come to Earth, others could be expected: o follow. Roberts expressed the opinion that human psi-positives were the nation’s strongest safeguard against such an invasion. “The time has come,” the article quoted Roberts, “for the people of the North American States to recognize that in such an emergency as this, fire must be fought with fire. The powers of the alien now are too great for even the best-trained Psi-High to oppose completely. But with further training and proper development of the psi-positive resources in the population, there should be little chance for an invasion which depends on the telepathic power of the aliens to succeed in the future.”
Faircloth carefully folded the paper and spoke to the driver of the limousine. The car emerged from the next tunnel exit and sped north. Paul waited, impatiendy. At last he stepped out of the car at the secret Baltimore headquarters. Moments later he was holding Jean Sanders in his arms, while Robert Roberts, across the room, looked slightly embarrassed but enormously pleased with himself.
“It was handled beautifully,” Faircloth was saying. “The timing was perfect, and there’s no question that it will go across.” He looked at Jean. “You’re sure you got everything through to him when he contacted you the second time?”
She nodded. Her face was still pale. “He turned me inside out. Cleaned out everything I knew. I didn’t resist. And then, when we’d heard from you, he contacted me a third time, and I knew that we were right. He’s been in touch with me ever since. He’ll be here soon.”
Faircloth nodded to Roberts. “And you’ve arranged for the fake raids to start up through New England?”
Roberts nodded. “Everything’s under control. Marino has a mockup spaceship ready for takeoff, and we’ve been moving artillery into the area near Eagle Rock to blast it down. Fortunately, there aren’t too many nosey people up around there.” He grinned. “The pictures will probably come out pretty bad, but after all—field conditions, you know—what can people expect? It will certainly look like the same sort of ship that landed out in Iowa, and there won’t be enough left when the blasting is finished to tell for sure whether the mangled mess that they drag out of it later is man, alien, or oily rags. Those guns do a good job.”
Something touched Faircloth’s mind, lightly, like a timid knock. He swung around, his eyes wide. “He’s here,” he said, and saw that Jean already knew. “Down below. Tell him to come up.”
She nodded, and closed her eyes. Moments later they heard footsteps on the stairs, hesitant footsteps. The door swung open. They stared at him for a moment, and then both Paul and Roberts were wringing his hand, offering him a glass. He nodded, murmuring his thanks, and sank down on the cot they had ready for him.
“You must be exhausted,” Paul said quietly.
“I am, I am,” he said. “Mind if I lie down?”
He was an ordinary looking man, slender, about thirty, and very pale. A little disappointing, Paul thought. Of course, a single-factor Psi-High had no distinguishing physical characteristics so there was really no reason to expect a double-factor psi-positive to look any different. But somehow Paul had half expected a godlike creature. Instead here was just a wary, frightened looking, tired young man. His face was mild, with a trace of sadness about it. But his eyes were clear and sharp, and his mouth was a grim line, as he sank back on the couch. “I was afraid you were never going to spot it,” he said. “For a while it looked as if the whole thing was backfiring on me. I mean, when Towne started publishing the scare stories and it began to look as if he might actually succeed in forcing an election. That really scared me, and right about then you started your cat-and-mouse game.”
Faircloth nodded. “We had no choice. We didn’t know, of course, that the alien had been destroyed before he even got started. And you didn’t dare to reveal to anyone just what you were or what you were trying to do.”
The man shook his head. “There wasn’t a soul I was sure I could trust, not even Psi-Highs, until I contacted Jean, and then saw from the President’s announcement that you were on to me but weren’t saying anything. But it turned out better this way, much better. Originally I’d planned to kill Towne and then let you capture me, counting on you to handle the cover stories the right way. Then nobody but you people would ever have known that the alien was killed less than two hours after he had landed.”