He said, "Where are the youngsters? My son isn't in his room."
The Industrialist smiled. "They've been out for hours. However, breakfast was forced into them among the women some time ago, so there is nothing to worry about. Youth, Doctor, youth!"
"Youth!" The word seemed to depress the Astronomer.
They ate breakfast in silence. The Industrialist said once, "You really think they'll come. The day looks so—normal."
The Astronomer said, "They'll come."
That was all.
Afterward the Industrialist said, "You'll pardon me. I can't conceive your playing so elaborate a hoax. You really spoke to them?"
"As I speak to you. At least, in a sense. They can project thoughts."
"I gathered that must be so from your letter. How, I wonder."
"I could not say. I asked them and, of course, they were vague. Or perhaps it was just that I could not understand. It involves a projector for the focussing of thought and, even more than that, conscious attention on the part of both projector and receptor. It was quite a while before I realized they were trying to think at me. Such thought-projectors may be part of the science they will give us."