SIMPLE PSIMAN
By F. L. WALLACE
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Startling Stories Fall 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
He slipped on the jacket and scanned around the corner of the halloutside before he got to the door.
"I psi," whispered the pin in his lapel.
Egan Rains let go of the knob and felt for the emblem. It wasinconspicuous, smaller than his thumbnail, the disc of the moon againsta dark blue background. The markings delineated a face on the moon, andtwo radiating antennae.
Rains frowned and rolled it in his fingers. He thought he'd strippedhimself of unnecessary identification. No harm done since no onein India had seen it on him, or heard it—yet. He looked at theemblem regretfully, turned it over. The back was inscribed: AmericanAssociation of Psi Astronomers. It had sentimental value but he'd haveto get rid of it.
He went to the disposer slot and dropped it into the wall. The insigniacame whizzing back and struck the opposite wall. Muttering that foreigndevices never worked the way they should, he dug it out. He examinedit cursorily and noticed a tiny nick in the surface. That was all. Thematerial was harder than the tough blades of the disposer. His respectfor the techniques which made the pin mounted.
Someone walked by in the hall. Had the noise it made when it struckbeen heard? He let his mind reach out delicately.
"I pthi," grumbled the pin.
Now it was lisping—and it was louder. The blow must have damaged thespeech crystals inside. Hurriedly he shut off his thoughts and theinsignia responded with silence.
Primarily, it was a recognition device enabling people of the sametalent, psimen, to identify each other. It served a purpose in Americawhere there were so few, but in India, where mentalist activity was fargreater, it was a handicap. It would be gabbling all the time.
Rains crumpled a sheet of paper around the little mechanism and tossedit gently into the chute. The disposer ground noisily and, as he halfexpected, the pin came hurtling back. He pried it out of the wallagain. This time it was slightly bent.
"The disposer is for the convenience of guests. It's set to return alljewelry accidentally dropped into it."
Rains jumped and looked around wildly. He was certain there wasn'tanyone in the room, and he hadn't observed a service screen. He stillcouldn't see either. But there was an eye staring at him from the wall.
"Shortages," explained the eye somberly, noting his bewilderment. "Ourcountry doesn't yet produce all the material we need. Lacking full sizetubes, the management of the hotel ordered smaller ones. They serve thepurpose."
Only slightly larger than life, the eye blinked at him. It filled theentire screen. "If you must get rid of jewelry I suggest a pawnshop.It's more economical."
Rains glanced back with casual cageyness. How much had the other seen,or overheard? Probably nothing. He'd have noticed the eye. "Sorry. Iwas throwing an odd cuff link away."
"It was odd," conceded the eye. "A little harder and it wouldn't havecome back." The eye blurred. "Can't have the disposer damaged, so wedraw the line. If it's as hard as a diamond it passes through."
It was a convenient line and a profitable one, Rains noted absently ashe went closer to observe the inconspicuous screen. Was it so tinythat it could have been on without his noticing?
"People don't throw away diamonds the