“Why is it,” Master Elwyn asked, sipping coffee while Duke Harald ate, “that humans are not ordinarily vested with the esper skill?”
Duke Harald only stared at him. The question seemed to be rhetorical.
“Because,” said Master Elwyn, “of the many aberrating processes which comprise the loosely-named unconscious mind. These processes are unconscious because they are dangerous; because they threaten the integrity of reason. We all acquire barriers against them, strong defenses.
“Unfortunately, our mental screens are not selective. They act most strongly against outside thoughts. In the natural state, telepathy is very near insanity. Indeed, it has been known for centuries that some psychotics—paranoid schizophrenics in particular—are weirdly sensitive to the mental states of others. And so the mind’s protection keeps it shut within the skull.”
“And the drug?”
“Inhibits the defenses. There you have the basic reason for the training. We try to draw the fangs of the unconscious; try to stabilize the conscious. Only the integrated mind can tolerate the esper skill.”
“If that’s the reason, why the secrecy?” Count Godfrey sounded skeptical.
“How many would believe they were not strong enough? Indeed, those who are least fitted would be most convinced of their superiority. Fools rush in where saner men might hesitate. Would you have us release an instrument of mass psychosis?”
“But the rumors?” asked Duke Harald. “The so-called myths? What of them?”
“To Terrans, they are only that—myths. We of the Institute originated most of them, in a calculated program of security. No one believes them in the slightest.”