For instance, there was that fellow Benton. Urei knew, as soon as he had made the stocky man turn the paper to page thirty-one, that he had made a mistake. Benton was a highly integrated human, with a quick intelligence which observed everything and usually reasoned with his observations. And he was troubled right now; Urei knew that as well as if he had been listening on one of the spy beams he had incorporated into his sensory circuits.
Urei didn't let it annoy him, however, aside from the resolution to curb his impatience in the future. If he had waited for half a minute, Benton would have reached page thirty-one anyway, and Urei could have read the rest of that article without anybody knowing that he was interested. As it was, the stocky man would just have to forget the whole episode, for he couldn't come to any valid conclusion about it. On page one there had been two items which were continued on page thirty-one; on page two there was another. The three subjects were unrelated but were equally suited to become grist for Urei's mental mill.
One of the items on the front page dealt with a new attempt to reach the moon; the other concerned the latest futile effort to regulate the use of atomic energy on an international scale. On page two was an article describing the mounting tension between the Eastern Alliance and the western nations over the upset in Italy's recent elections. The Commies, it seemed, had finally won a free election. The western nations had practically decided that there had been skullduggery at the crossroads. And considering the fact that Urei had never been given a problem in practical politics, it seemed likely that Benton would rule that item out as a possible reason for the quick page-turning.
Benton would never think that Urei might be concerned about the possibility of someone dropping a bomb in the midst of his delicate innards. Nor would Benton realize, after living through a dozen or so war scares, that this wasn't going to be just another one; the muscular physicist was not a political observer. But Urei knew that this would be the real thing, and Benton wouldn't be the only one caught flat-footed. Half the world would watch the oft-repeated Commie moves, listen to the protests, and wonder how many more times it would happen before the western powers would decide they had been pushed too far.
There were a few who would have a sufficiently comprehensive picture of the situation—something Urei had acquired in the past few days—to realize that the democracies wouldn't take the latest grab lying down. They wouldn't, for the simple reason that this time they had too large an investment involved.
For Urei it was a simple step to reason that he would be a prime target. The Eastern Alliance might consider it perfectly all right for Urei to exist in peace time, since it was comparatively easy to steal the results of his unique mental ability through their superior espionage system. During war, however, the picture changed: Urei would then be a weapon, and his use would be solely in the hands of an enemy. The Manhattan project had shown the world how well the United States could keep a secret in war time.
2
"There's nothing to do but try it again," Dr. Albie said, after having exhausted all the logic at his command. "Only this time we'll use the scientific method."
Benton looked dubiously at the level of the whiskey in the decanter, then set his glass carefully down. "I think I've heard of it somewhere," he said. "Tell me about it."