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copy of his telexed report; and indeed, if the Russian Premier himself had not
been concerned about the incident, Hornsborough might not even have sent it.
He wanted to call Heathstone directly, but the Secretary of State would feel
offended if he was bypassed.
Seth Mead would not know anything about parapsychology either, and
Hornshorough did not enjoy reporting to his superior, who was, after all, a
product of Texas, and thus his social inferior. But he would call. The
freakish confrontation with Tosygen could not be passed over.
Despite the efficiency of the American Embassy communications link to the
Department of State at Foggy
Bottom in Washington, it took several hours before the
Secretary could be located to talk with Ambassador David
P. Hornsborough III. By then it was night in Moscow.
'David, is that you?' asked Seth Mead.
'Yes, Mr. Secretary. Sorry to disturb you with a direct call.'
'That's all right, David. It's a little too hot here for golf. We came in
after only three holes.'
'I had a peculiar confrontation with Tosygen at the crack of dawn. He summoned
me to talk about a letter they've received from someone in the States
threatening to expose a classified research project.'
'Another one of those...?'
'Well, this is the first time I was summoned...'
'Well, I'll turn your report over to the CIA. You never know what they'll turn
up.'
'But, Mr. Secretary, this one is different. It seems to involve . . . well, it
is slightly occult, I suppose you'd say.'
'Ah, how's that?'
'The letter threatening exposure, of which I have telexed you a copy, seems to
be talking about long-distance, ah, telepathy.'
42
'Did you say "telecopy"?'
'No, sir. Not telecopy. Telepathy. T-e-l-e-p-a-t-h-y.'
For a moment, Hornshorough heard nothing but the background crackle of the
line.
'Did you say telepathy?'
'Yes, Mr. Secretary, hypnotic telepathy!'
Another pause.
'Must be a crank letter,' Mead said.
'But, Seth,' pressed Hornsborough, 'I was summoned at the crack of dawn to
hear the Premier's personal protestations.'
'Are you suggesting that there is something serious about this, David?'
'Well, I thought you would want at least an immediate report on this
interview.'
'Right, David, that is true. I'll have a talk with Heston Davis. He may know
something about this. Did you really say telepathy?'
'Yes, Mr. Secretary.'
'Very good. By the way, did Tosygen give any hints about the way they're
continually shifting ground in the SALT negotiations?'
'He didn't even mention them, Seth.'
'O.K. Thanks for the report, David. But I can't think that Tosygen would be
too concerned about a simple crank letter. He's got more on his plate than
that, with the Chinese pushing out again, those Africans getting all that
economic clout around the world, and the damn English grabbing off business in
his own country. Here, too, for that matter. That's what he ought to be
talking to us about.'
'Yes, Mr. Secretary,' said Hornsborough, reminded in this gentle manner of his
obvious duties. 'Sorry I didn't have time, at such an early hour, to take the
opportunity to guide the interview in those directions.'
After the connection was broken, Seth Mead reflected for a moment, then
punched his intercom.
43
'Lila?'
'Yes, Mr. Secretary.'
'Can you get me a good definition of telepathy?' After eighteen years - she
had been with him since his first days in Washington as a freshman senator -
he knew he could count on Lila Cox to know practically anything.
'Telepathy?'
'You know, that mind-to-mind garbage...'
'Why, I suppose so. You must have been talking about the Russian research in
that field.'
'How do you know that?'
'Well, Seth, everyone knows they're ages ahead of us.'
Mead grunted. 'Damn. Well, if everyone knows about it, I guess the Secretary
of State better know, too, Lila.'
Helena Asch was confused. The urgency of the Premier's demand for a meeting
with the ambassador seemed to have resulted in absolutely nothing. Experience
had taught her that middle-of-the-night action usually heralded crucial
diplomatic moves of some sort; but this one had produced only a suspicious
vacuum. Hornsborough, whom she admired for his professional expertise - but
over whom she kept close watch for other than diplomatic reasons -had only
murmured something about a 'crank letter' and 'what was telepathy, anyhow?' He
had then retired and slept most of the day, thereafter dictating only a short
report. His call to Mead had been equally short.
Russia was almost home to her; she had been born to a diplomatic couple
assigned to the Soviets when the United States Government had decided, fifteen
years after the fact, that the czar was gone for good and that it was time to
establish normal relations with the unruly rabble who had overthrown the
Russian monarchy. Her first language was a double one, English mixed with
Russian, to which she had added French and then Spanish. But long ago she had
decided she was a citizen of the world, and not simply an American or a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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