A TRICK OF THE MIND
By WILLIAM P. SALTON
The average person uses about ten
percent of his mind. The rest lies
dormant. But Donovan's whole brain
suddenly went into action. This
posed an interesting question. Can a
man think his way out of jail?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Fantastic January 1958.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Paul Donovan was sitting at a bar when he learned the trick. He had reached out to lift his martini glass when his hand stopped in mid-air—stood rigid—refused to move.
Paul stared at it. Sweat broke out on his forehead. Thoughts of paralysis raced through his mind. The hand and arm seemed things apart and he had a feeling of not possessing them—of complete divorcement from these members. Then he realized his whole body was frozen and his mind—there was something new about it—something alien; as though it floated above his head and looked down at him in amusement.
Panic flared, then subsided, as he became aware of a strange newness within himself; vague and undefinable, this newness, but it was definitely a change; something he had never felt before.
Think, he told himself fiercely. There's nothing wrong with you. You aren't drunk. This is only your second martini. Stop this nonsense and pick up that glass.
The order was given with every ounce of his brain power behind it. And the order was obeyed—but in a completely illogical manner. His body instantly became lax and docile, but the offending hand dropped to the bar as the martini glass—seemingly of its own volition—moved across the bar, levitated to his lips, tilted, and poured the drink into his mouth. The martini went smoothly down his throat after which the glass returned to its former position.