The Sensitive Man Read online

a wry smile, "Okay,you're paying for it." She took a cigarette from the flat case at hersash, lit it and relaxed. Dalgetty leaned against the wall and closedhis eyes again.

  The girl watched him curiously. He was of medium height, stockilybuilt, inconspicuously dressed in a blue short-sleeved tunic, grayslacks and sandals. His square snub-nosed face was lightly freckled,with hazel eyes and a rather pleasant shy smile. The rusty hair wasclose-cropped. A young man, she guessed, about twenty-five, quiteordinary and uninteresting except for the wrestler's muscles and, ofcourse, his behavior.

  Oh, well, it took all kinds.

  Dalgetty had a moment of worry. Not because the yarn he had handed herwas thin but because it brushed too close to the truth. He thrust theunsureness out of him. Chances were she hadn't understood any of it,wouldn't even mention it. At least not to the people he was hunting.

  Or who were hunting him?

  Concentration, and the voices slowly came again: "--maybe. But I thinkthey'll be more stubborn than that."

  Bancroft: "Yes. The issues are too large for a few lives to matter.Still, Michael Tighe is only human. He'll talk."

  The woman: "He can be made to talk, you mean?" She had one of thecoldest voices Dalgetty had ever heard.

  Bancroft: "Yes. Though I hate to use extreme measures."

  Man: "What other possibilities have we got? He won't say anythingunless he's forced to. And meanwhile his people will be scouring theplanet to find him. They're a shrewd bunch."

  Bancroft, sardonically: "What can they do, please? It takes more thanan amateur to locate a missing man. It calls for all the resources ofa large police organization. And the last thing they want, as I'vesaid before, is to bring the government in on this."

  The woman: "I'm not so sure of that, Tom. After all, the Institute isa legal group. It's government sponsored and its influence issomething tremendous. Its graduates--"

  Bancroft: "It educates a dozen different kinds of psychotechnicians,yes. It does research. It gives advice. It publishes findings andtheories. But believe me the Psychotechnic Institute is like aniceberg. Its real nature and purpose are hidden way under water. No,it isn't doing anything illegal that I know of. Its aims are so largethat they transcend law altogether."

  Man: "What aims?"

  Bancroft: "I wish I knew. We've only got hints and guesses, you know.One of the reasons we've snatched Tighe is to find out more. I suspectthat their real work requires secrecy."

  The woman, thoughtfully: "Y-y-yes, I can see how that might be. If theworld at large were aware of being--manipulated--then manipulationmight become impossible. But just where does Tighe's group want tolead us?"

  Bancroft: "I don't know, I tell you. I'm not even sure that they dowant to--take over. Something even bigger than that." A sigh. "Let'sface it, Tighe is a crusader too. In his own way he's a very sincereidealist. He just happens to have the wrong ideals. That's one reasonwhy I'd hate to see him harmed."

  Man: "But if it turns out that we've got to--"

  Bancroft: "Why, then we've got to, that's all. But I won't enjoy it."

  Man: "Okay, you're the leader, you say when. But I warn you not towait too long. I tell you the Institute is more than a collection ofunworldly scientists. They've got _someone_ out searching for Tigheand if they should locate him there could be real trouble."

  Bancroft, mildly: "Well, these are troubled times, or will be shortly.We might as well get used to that."

  The conversation drifted away into idle chatter. Dalgetty groaned tohimself. Not once had they spoken of the place where their prisonerwas kept.

  All right, little man, what next? Thomas Bancroft was big game. Hislaw firm was famous. He had been in Congress and the Cabinet. Evenwith the Labor Party in power he was a respected elder statesman. Hehad friends in government, business, unions, guilds and clubs andleagues from Maine to Hawaii. He had only to say the word andDalgetty's teeth would be kicked in some dark night. Or, if he provedsqueamish, Dalgetty might find himself arrested on a charge likeconspiracy and tied up in court for the next six months.

  By listening in he had confirmed the suspicion of Ulrich at theInstitute that Thomas Bancroft was Tighe's kidnapper--but that was nohelp. If he went to the police with that story they would (a) laugh,long and loud--(b) lock him up for psychiatric investigation--(c)worst of all, pass the story on to Bancroft, who would thereby knowwhat the Institute's children could do and would take appropriatecounter-measures.

  II

  Of course, this was just the beginning. The trail was long. But timewas hideously short before they began turning Tighe's brain insideout. And there were wolves along the trail.

  For a shivering instant, Simon Dalgetty realized what he had lethimself in for.

  It seemed like forever before the Bancroft crowd left. Dalgetty's eyesfollowed them out of the bar--four men and the woman. They were allquiet, mannerly, distinguished-looking, in rich dark slack suits. Eventhe hulking bodyguard was probably a college graduate, Third Class.You wouldn't take them for murderers and kidnappers and the servantsof those who would bring back political gangsterism. But then,reflected Dalgetty, they probably didn't think of themselves in thatlight either.

  The enemy--the old and protean enemy, who had been fought down asFascist, Nazi, Shintoist, Communist, Atomist, Americanist and God knewwhat else for a bloody century--had grown craftier with time. Now hecould fool even himself.

  Dalgetty's senses went back to normal. It was a sudden immense reliefto be merely sitting in a dimly-lit booth with a pretty girl, to be nomore than human for a while. But his sense of mission was still darkwithin him.

  "Sorry I was so long," he said. "Have another drink."

  "I just had one." She smiled.

  He noticed the $10-figure glowing on the dispenser and fed it twocoins. Then, his nerves still vibrating, he dialed another whiskey forhimself.

  "You know those people in the next grotto?" asked Glenna. "I saw youwatching them leave."

  "Well, I know Mr. Bancroft by reputation," he said. "He lives here,doesn't he?"

  "He's got a place over on Gull Station," she said, "but he's not herevery much, mostly on the mainland, I guess."

  Dalgetty nodded. He had come to Pacific Colony two days before, hadbeen hanging around in the hope of getting close enough to Bancroft topick up a clue. Now he had done so and his findings were worth little.He had merely confirmed what the Institute already considered highlyprobable without getting any new information.

  He needed to think over his next move. He drained his drink. "I'dbetter jet off," he said.

  "We can have dinner in here if you want," said Glenna.

  "Thanks, I'm not hungry." That was true enough. The nervous tensionincidental to the use of his powers raised the devil with appetite.Nor could he be too lavish with his funds. "Maybe later."

  "Okay, Joe, I might be seeing you." She smiled. "You're a funny one.But kind of nice." Her lips brushed his and then she got up and left.Dalgetty went out the door and punched for a top-side elevator.

  It took him past many levels. The tavern was under the station'scaissons near the main anchor cable, looking out into deep water.Above it were store-houses, machine rooms, kitchens, all theparaphernalia of modern existence. He stepped out of a kiosk onto anupper deck, thirty feet above the surface. Nobody else was there andhe walked over to the railing and leaned on it, looking across thewater and savoring loneliness.

  Below him the tiers dropped away to the main deck, flowing lines andcurves, broad sheets of clear plastic, animated signs, the grass andflowerbeds of a small park, people walking swiftly or idly. The hugegyro-stabilized bulk did not move noticeably to the long Pacificswell. Pelican Station was the colony's "downtown," its shops andtheaters and restaurants, service and entertainment.

  Around it the water was indigo blue in the evening light, streakedwith arabesques of foam, and he could hear waves rumble against thesheer walls. Overhead the sky was tall with a few clouds in the westturning aureate. The hovering gulls seemed cast in
gold. A haziness inthe darkened east betokened the southern California coastline. Hebreathed deeply, letting nerves and muscles and viscera relax,shutting off his mind and turning for a while into an organism thatmerely lived and was glad to live.

  Dalgetty's view in all directions was cut off by the other stations,the rising streamlined hulks which were Pacific Colony. A few airyflex-strung bridges had been completed to link them, but there wasstill an extensive boat traffic. To the south he could see a blacknesson the water that was a sea ranch. His trained memory told him, inanswer to a fleeting question, that according to the latest figureseighteen-point-three percent