"Exchanged?"
I nodded. "You know—or do you know—that I've been working with a girl, giving her some training."
"No," he said. "I don't hear much about the Lodge. You folks are pretty tight-mouthed around Normals."
"Sure," I said, not wanting to appear uncomfortable about it. Doc was all right—he never showed any resentment that he didn't have Psi powers. Quite sensibly, he was satisfied with his own normal skills. "Well, this girl is a very delicate telekinetic," I told him. "She is the one who brought my right arm back to life. She's good."
"She must be," he agreed. "I know that stumped every neurologist over here."
"Right," I said, "She has been exploring the insides of Maragon's heart."
"What!"
"Sense of perception—light TK touch—anything you want to call it. I can get her to demonstrate, if you insist. But you can take my word for it. She can feel her way around inside your body the way you can feel your way around the outside."
"And what is her diagnosis?" he said, irritated now. He was the heart expert.
I told him about the clots, and he nodded as he got the picture. "A classic description," he agreed. "But what can we do about it? Clots like that are next to impossible to break down. If they flake away in too big a chunk, they can kill."