“If they’re using psionics,” Malone said, “as they obviously are—and I don’t know about them, Burris doesn’t know about them, O’Connor doesn’t know about them and nobody else I can find knows about them— then they don’t exist. That’s flat.”
“How about outer space?” the Queen said. “I mean, spies from outer space trying to take over the Earth.”
“It’s a nice idea,” Malone said sourly. “I wish they’d hurry up and do it.”
“Then you don’t think—”
“I don’t know what to think,” Malone said. “There’s some perfectly simple explanation for all this. And somewhere, in all the running around and looking here and there I’ve been doing, I’ve got all the facts I need to come up with that answer.”
“Oh, my,” the Queen said. “That’s wonderful.”
“Sure it is,” Malone said. “There’s only one trouble, as a matter of fact. I don’t know what the explanation is, and I don’t know which facts are important and which ones aren’t.”
There was a short silence.
“I wish Tom Boyd were here,” Malone said wistfully.
“Really?” the Queen said. “Why?”