"And if he's got you in a wooden house and he's going to burn it down, what good does your knowledge do you?"
"But you can transmit false thoughts—"
"And confuse him," Claerten said. "Fine. Fine. If you've ever met the man before. And suppose you haven't? Then you can't transmit a thing to him; you're trapped in the house, remember, and the fire's started. What good's your telepathy?"
"But—"
"It's a sense," Claerten said. "Like any other sense. But it isn't magic any more than your eyes are magic. They're ... given by God, if you like; they grow, they develop. So the ability to read minds, to transmit thought is given by God. No one knows why or how. Fifteen of us have developed it; fifteen who are members of the Brotherhood. But there are others—"
"Of course," Jonas thought impatiently. "I know all that."
"You know a great deal," Claerten said, "which I sometimes find it necessary to bring to your attention."
"I've done all right," Jonas thought sullenly.
Claerten agreed. "Of course you have," he thought, "but you're not the most careful of men; and great care is needed. The Brotherhood must grow. This new sense is of great value; perhaps we can learn to teach it to others in time, though we have had little success with that. But at the least we can maintain our numbers, pass the gift on to our children—"
"If it is possible," Jonas said.