The Sensitive Man

by Poul Anderson

much more easily attained than ours.

  "So suppose we made our knowledge public. Suppose we educated anyonewho desired it in our techniques. Can't you see what would happen?Can't you see the struggle that would be waged for control of thehuman mind? It could start as innocuously as a businessman planning amore effective advertising campaign. It would end in a welter ofpropaganda, counter-propaganda, social and economic manipulations,corruption, competition for the key offices--and so, ultimately, therewould be violence.

  "All the psychodynamic tensors ever written down won't stop amachine-gun. Violence riding over a society thrown into chaos,enforced peace--and the peace-makers, perhaps with the best will inthe world, using the Institute techniques to restore order. Then onestep leads to another, power gets more and more centralized and itisn't long before you have the total state back again. Only this totalstate could _never_ be overthrown!"

  Elena Casimir bit her lip. A stray breeze slid down the rock wall andrumpled her bright hair. After a long while she said, "Maybe you'reright. But America today has, on the whole, a good government. Youcould let them know."

  "Too risky. Sooner or later someone, probably with very idealisticmotives, would force the whole thing into the open. So we're keepinghidden the very fact that our most important equations exist--which iswhy we didn't ask for help when Meade's detectives finally learnedthat they know."

  "How do you know your precious Institute won't become just such anoligarchy as you describe?"

  "I don't," Simon said, "but it's improbable. You see, the recruits whoare eventually taught everything we know are pretty thoroughlyindoctrinated with our own present-day beliefs. And we've learnedenough individual psych to do some real indoctrinating! They'll passit on to the next generation and so on.

  "Meanwhile we hope the social structure and the mental climate isbeing modified in such a way that eventually it would be verydifficult, if not impossible, for anyone to impose absolute control byany means. For as I said before, even an ultimately developedpsychodynamics can't do everything. Ordinary propaganda, for instance,is quite ineffective on people trained in critical thinking.

  "When enough people the world over are sane we can make the knowledgegeneral. Meanwhile we've got to keep it under wraps and quietlyprevent anyone else from learning the same things independently. Mostsuch prevention, by the way, consists merely of recruiting promisingresearchers into our own ranks."

  "The world's too big," she said very softly. "You can't foresee allthat'll happen. Too many things could go wrong."

  "Maybe. It's a chance we've got to take." His own gaze was somber.

  They sat for awhile in stillness. Then she said, "It all sounds verypretty. But--what are you, Dalgetty?"

  "Simon," he corrected.

  "What are you?" she repeated. "You've done things I wouldn't havebelieved were possible. _Are you human?_"

  "I'm told so." He smiled.

  "Yes? I wonder! How is it possible that you--"

  He wagged a finger. "Ah-ah! Right of privacy." And with swiftseriousness, "You know too much already. I have to assume you can keepit secret all your life."

  "That remains to be seen," Elena said, not looking at him.

  VII

  Sundown burned across the waters and the island rose like a mountainof night against the darkening sky. Dalgetty stretched cramped musclesand peered over the bay.

  In the hours of waiting there had not been much said between him andthe woman. He had dropped a few questions, with the careful casualnessof the skilled analyst, and gotten the expected reactions. He knew alittle more about her--a child of the strangling dying cities andshadowy family life of the 1980's, forced to armor herself inharshness, finding in the long training for her work and now in thejob itself an ideal to substitute for the tenderness she had neverknown.

  He felt pity for her but there was little he could do to help justnow. To her own queries he gave guarded replies. It occurred to himbriefly that he was, in his way, as lonesome as she. _But of course Idon't mind--or do I?_

  Mostly they tried to plan their next move. For the time, at least,they were of one purpose. She described the layout of house andgrounds and indicated the cell where Michael Tighe was ordinarilykept. But there was not much they could do to think out tactics. "IfBancroft gets alarmed enough," she said, "he'll have Dr. Tighe flownelsewhere."

  He agreed. "That's why we'd better hit tonight, before he can get thatworried." The thought was pain within him. _Dad, what are they doingto you now?_

  "There's also the matter of food and drink." Her voice was husky withthirst and dull with the discouragement of hunger. "We can't stay outhere like this much longer." She gave him a strange glance. "Don't youfeel weak?"

  "Not now," he said. He had blocked off the sensations.

  "They--_Simon!_" She grabbed his arm. "A boat--hear?"

  The murmur of jets drifted to him through the beating waves. "Yeah.Quick--underneath!"

  They scrambled over the hogback and slid down its farther side. Thesea clawed at Dalgetty's feet and foam exploded over his head. Hehunched low, throwing one arm about her as she slipped. The airboatmurmured overhead, hot gold in the sunset light. Dalgetty crouched,letting the breakers run coldly around him. The ledge where they clungwas worn smooth, offered little to hold onto.

  The boat circled, its jets thunderous at low speed. _They're worriedabout her now. They must be sure I'm still alive._

  White water roared above his head. He breathed a hasty gasp of airbefore the next comber hit him. Their bodies were wholly submerged,their faces shouldn't show in that haze of foam--but the jet wassoaring down and there would be machine-guns on it.

  Dalgetty's belly muscles stiffened, waiting for the tracers to burnthrough him.

  Elena's body slipped from his grasp and went under. He hung there, notdaring to follow. A stolen glance upward--yes, the jet was out ofsight again, moving back toward the field. He dove off the ledge andstruck into the waves. The girl's head rose over them as he neared.She twisted from him and made her own way back to the rock. But whenthey were in the hollow again her teeth rattled with chill and shepressed against him for warmth.

  "Okay," he said shakily. "Okay, we're all right now. You are herebyentitled to join our Pacific wet-erans' club."

  Her laugh was small under the boom of breakers and hiss of scud."You're trying hard, aren't you?"

  "I--_oh_, oh! Get _down_!"

  Peering over the edge Dalgetty saw the men descending the path. Therewere half a dozen, armed and wary. One had a WT radio unit on hisback. In the shadow of the cliff they were almost invisible as theybegan prowling the beach.

  "Still hunting us!" Her voice was a groan.

  "You didn't expect otherwise, did you? I'm just hoping they don't comeout here. Does anybody else know of this spot?" He held his lips closeto her ear.

  "No, I don't believe so," she breathed. "I was the only one who caredto go swimming at this end of the island. But...."

  Dalgetty waited, grimly. The sun was down at last, the twilightthickening. A few stars twinkled to life in the east. The goonsfinished their search and settled in a line along the beach.

  "Oh-oh," muttered Dalgetty. "I get the idea. Bancroft's had the landbeaten for me so thoroughly he's sure I must be somewhere out to sea.If I were he I'd guess I'd swum far out to be picked up by awaterboat. So--he's guarding every possible approach against a landingparty."

  "What can we do?" whispered Elena. "Even if we can swim around theirradius of sight we can't land just anywhere. Most of the island isvertical cliff. Or can you...?"

  "No," he said. "Regardless of what you may think I don't have vacuumcups on my feet. But how far does that gun of yours carry?"

  She stole a glance over the edge. Night was sweeping in. The islandwas a wall of blackness and the men at its foot were hidden. "Youcan't _see_!" she protested.

  He squeezed her shoulder. "Oh yes I can, honey. But whether I'm a goodenough shot to.... We'll have to try it, that's all."

  Her
face was a white blur and fear of the unknown put metal in hervoice. "Part seal, part cat, part deer, part what else? I don't thinkyou're human, Simon Dalgetty."

  He didn't answer. The abnormal voluntary dilation of pupils hurt hiseyes.

  "What else has Dr. Tighe done?" Her tone was chill in the dark. "Youcan't study the human mind without studying the body too. What's hedone? Are you the mutant they're always speculating about? Did Dr.Tighe create or