The thought-words formed in his brain as the strange images had before, and then he knew. Should have guessed it, part of his mind was telling him in a fantastically detached way, the dreams ... the compulsions over which he had had no control in the ship.... This—thing. It probably—
"You are quite astute, Earthman. But it is not our technology which created this device. To save you and the civilization which you represent—and ultimately, our own—it was necessary for us to steal it. It cost six lives."
"Steal...."
"From your former captors. It is their invention, as are so many things with which they destroy. With this instrument, they have succeeded in taking one of Nature's more subtle phenomenon—psychokinesis—and amplifying its energies nearly a million-fold. Those stepped-up energies can then be projected in a tight or fanned beam at will.
"They can make a man 'dream,' as you did—or they can destroy him outright, depending on which of the 'psi' factors, ESP or PK, is given dominance during projection. But we are not skilled in its operation—they detected our use of it on you while you slept, and from that moment on you were so well screened that even at the risk of burning this unit out, we were not able to project powerfully enough to do more than merely touch your brain—"
There was a strange calm in his mind, now. He understood the words and accepted them as matter-of-factly as they were given. Even now they were manipulating him like some intangible puppet, yet he was convinced it was not a malevolent manipulation. Convinced. The conviction—manipulation, too....
"Only partly, Earthman. We said we are friendly, and we are. We have calmed you and erased your fear. From this point on, we will use this instrument only for communication."
And then he felt the fear in him again, gnawing, and his body was again damp and cold. But he had control, now. Control enough to speak.
They stood before him, immobile, watching.