Man of Many Minds

by E. Everett Evans

Hanlon "ate" the note, then wrote one of his own, telling what he had learned to date, what he suspicioned, and what he was trying to do. Of his new mental powers he said nothing. He did not distrust this SS man, of course, but if the fellow didn't know he couldn't be made to tell.

As Hanlon left the bank he began to get the feeling he was being trailed, but could not seem to locate anyone doing it, although he did not dare search to his rear very carefully. Neither could he catch any definite thoughts about such a thing from among the welter of thought-sensations on the crowded streets.

He wandered about most of the day, frankly sight-seeing—but his mind was always open. He went into various public buildings, sat for some time in one or another of the numerous parks whenever he felt a bit tired of walking.

That feeling of being watched made him cautious, so he did not practice much with his mind-control on any of the pigeon-like birds! He did, however, make a trip to the local zoo, and as he paused momentarily in front of each of the cages to look at the exhibit it contained, he briefly made an excursion into the mind of each different type of animal, bird or rodent. Outside of minor differences of texture, they all seemed about the same. Each of them had, naturally, different muscular abilities that would need considerable study if he ever intended using one of them.

And every minute he was seeking, searching for any tiniest thread of evidence as to what it was that was causing this undercurrent of secret intrigue that was so plainly evident to his super-sensitive mind.

But there was no factual data to be learned. Only that "feel" of it in the very air. Yet as the day wore on he came to believe that much or most of what he sensed was not that plot which was causing the Corps concern. Rather, it seemed more as though all the people here were engaged in some sort of secret aggressiveness.

And it was finally forced into his consciousness that it was "business," not "politics." For it was well-known that Simonides, even though it had become the Federation's wealthiest world, was not yet satisfied ... that its merchants and traders wanted to capture more and still more of the System's business.

There were far too many minds engaged in aggressive thoughts for a political revolution, he felt sure. If it was this wide-spread, surely others of the Corps of the Secret Service would have found out something definite about it. No, whatever this was, it distinctly was not what he was here to find.

The feeling that he was being spied upon was always more or less present, but he could not spot the man or men who were watching him. Either several were working in short shifts, or else the trailer kept so far behind him that the multiplicity of thoughts from the hundreds of people always around masked those of the spy.

Hanlon ate a leisurely lunch in a small restaurant, and during the afternoon continued his apparently-aimless sight-seeing. If they were shadowing him, they would have nothing to report, he grinned. Not during the day, at least. What the evening would bring forth would perhaps be another matter.