I nodded. "You have any papers, any identification, to back this up?"
Wordlessly, he handed over his billfold, letters, enough identification to have satisfied Allen Pinkerton or John Edgar Hoover.
"Okay," I drawled. "I'll accept your story for the moment. Now answer me the big query: Why are the good people of Granite City doing this to you? By any chance, you wouldn't happen to know of a mass fraud they are perpetrating on Manhattan-Universal?"
"I know nothing of their ethical standards," Parnell said, "but I do know that they are absolutely subhuman!"
"I admit I have met likelier groups of human beings in my time."
"No, understand me. These people are literally subhuman—they are inferior to other human beings."
"Look, I know the Klan is a growing organization but I can't go along with you."
"Madison, understand me, I insist. Ethnologically speaking, it is well known that certain tribes suffer certain deficiencies due to diet, climate, et cetera. Some can't run, sing, use mathematics. The people of Granite City have the most unusual deficency on record, I admit. Their psionic senses have been impaired. They are completely devoid of any use of telepathy, precognition, telekinesis."
"Because they aren't supermen, that doesn't mean that they are submen," I protested. "I don't have any psionic abilities either."