Hurriedly, Malone pried his thoughts away from aborigines and heat, and tried to focus his mind elsewhere. He didn’t understand psionic processes, he thought; but then, nobody did, really, as far as he knew. But he could use them.
And, obviously, somebody else could use them too.
Only what kind of force was being used? What kind of psionic force would it take to make so many people in the United States goof up the way they were doing?
That, Malone told himself, was a good question, a basic and an important question. He was proud of himself for thinking of it.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have the answer.
But he thought he knew a way of getting one.
It was perfectly true that nobody knew much about how psionics worked. For that matter, nobody knew very much about how gravity worked. But there was still some information, and, in the case of psionics, Malone knew where it was to be found.
It was to be found in Yucca Flats, Nevada.
It was, of course, true that Nevada would probably be even hotter than Washington, D. C. But there was no help for that, Malone told himself sadly; and, besides, the cold chill of the expert himself would probably cool things off quite rapidly. Malone thought of Dr. Thomas O’Connor, the Westinghouse psionics expert and frowned. O’Connor was not exactly what might be called a friendly man.
But he did know more about psionics than anyone else Malone could think of. And his help had been invaluable in solving the two previous psionic cases Malone had worked on.