head. "No," he said thoughtfully. "I think thedemonstration was adequate. He cast a quizzical look at Bond, thenlooked around the room.
"You gentlemen will find a supply of these devices in the outer office.You may draw one for each person you wish outfitted. If any of you havefurther questions, I would suggest you get in touch with CommunityResearch. They understand this thing." He waved toward the door. "Thismeeting is adjourned."
He watched as the men filed from the room, then turned on Bond.
* * * * *
"What was that business after you took off your headband?" he demanded."I received you perfectly, and so did practically everyone here. Why theapology?"
Bond grimaced. "We found out something peculiar while we were makingpreliminary tests on this device, sir," he explained. "Some peopledon't seem to be able to pick up clear thoughts with it, unless anotherperson uses the mentacom to drive in to them. Most of us can pick upthoughts from anyone we look at, whether they have a band on or not.Definite, surface thoughts, that is."
"And?" The deputy's expression was still questioning. He reached up topoint at the band he was still wearing. "I'm getting some mightypeculiar secondary thoughts right now," he added.
"And the people who can't use the device fully have other peculiarities,sir. I'd rather not go into detail. You can find out the whole story foryourself with a very short bit of experimentation, and you have asubject right at hand. If I simply told you, you probably wouldn'tbelieve me anyway."
The deputy nodded slowly. "For the moment," he said, "I'll take yourwords--and your thoughts--as true. Now, one more question: Can a person,using one of these things, successfully lie to another person who wearsone?"
"No, sir." Bond was positive. "It's impossible."
"I got that impression. Thanks." The deputy turned and walked out of thedoor. Bond looked after him, a slight smile growing on his lips.
"Old Man wanted 'em," he told himself. "He's got 'em."
* * * * *
The Fiscal chief glanced through the letter in his hands, then cantedhis head a little and read again. He lowered it to his desk, then satfor a moment, to stare into space. Finally, he looked down once more.
Central Coordination Agency Office of the Comptroller
CCA 7.338 21 July, 2012
To: District Leader District Twelve Region Nine
Attn.: Fiscal Chief
Subject: Mental Communicator
1. It has been brought to the attention of this office that a product known as the "Consolidated Mental Communicator" is being manufactured in District Twelve, Region Nine, and offered for sale as a luxury item.
2. The characteristics of this device have been investigated by the Technical Division, Central Coordination Agency, and it has been found that the device does in fact permit communication between persons by telepathic or some similar means.
3. This device is presently being offered for sale in retail luxury stores throughout the nation. The volume of sales and of potential sales warrants distribution of the manufacturing load to manufacturers other than the Consolidated Electronics Company, who, it is understood, presently hold an exclusive manufacturing agreement with the office of the District Leader, District Twelve, Region Nine. This arrangement is inconsistent with the sales and use potential of the device in question.
4. The agreement between District Twelve, Region Nine, and the Consolidated Electronics Company will be forwarded immediately to this headquarters for consideration. It is contemplated that this agreement will be terminated and replaced by a manufacturing license from the Products Division, Central Coordinating Agency, who will further license other manufacturers to produce this device.
By Command of Chief Coordinator Gorman
KELLER Comptroller MRK/pem
The Fiscal chief shook his head. This one spelled trouble--in capitals.The royalty payments from Consolidated had become one of the majorsources of income for the district. And Morely had ordered project afterproject, using those funds to pay for them. Some of the projects werestill outstanding. The Old Man would blow his top.
He looked again at the small scrap of paper which was clipped to theletter. On it was scrawled: "DeVore--See me--HRM."
For a moment, DeVore considered using his own mentacom, then hediscarded the idea. To be sure, the leader had insisted that hissubordinates use the devices for their own communications, and he'd cutFixed Communications to the bone. But he still insisted on eithercommunicator calls or personal contact when he wished to talk to any ofhis people. And he discouraged any but essential use of the communicatorsystem, generally demanding that people come in to see him.
DeVore wrinkled his face disgustedly. It _was_ hard to communicate withthe district leader by means of a headband. There was a repellentcharacteristic about the man's mental emanations, and he seemed to failto comprehend nuances of meaning. Similes, he ignored completely.Thoughts had to be completely and clearly detailed, then phrased intonormal, basic wordage before he would acknowledge them. None of theshort-cuts used by other members of the administrative staff seemed towork out in his case. He apparently didn't notice visualizations, and henever made one. His transmission was as stiff and labored as the type ofcommunication he required from others--more so, if anything. DeVorescratched his neck.
"How," he asked himself, "does one define a telepathic monotone?"
There were a few others with whom DeVore had experienced similardifficulties, but most people, he had found, picked up meanings andconcepts without difficulty--even seemed to anticipate at times. Andsince the new induction mentacoms had come on the market, with theannoying contacts and headstraps removed, virtually everyone seemed tobe either in possession of one of the devices, or about to get one. And,they were worn everywhere.
He smiled as he thought of the young father-to-be, who had boredthrough the evening traffic rush yesterday. The youngster had been sointent on getting his wife to the hospital that he'd probably failed tosee half the ships that clawed out of his way. And his visualization hadbeen almost painfully clear. He'd probably be apologizing for weeks toeveryone he contacted.
DeVore straightened in his chair. What would happen, he wondered, if theleader ever ran into one of those situations?
"Yipe!" he muttered. "What a row that would be."
He shrugged, got out of his chair, and walked out into the corridor.
"Better get it over with," he told himself.
* * * * *
As he approached the leader's door, it opened, and Ward Kirk came out.He closed the door with a careful gentleness, then faced it for aninstant. DeVore was conscious of a wave of hopeless fury, and a fleetingglimpse of Morely's face, framed by brilliant flame. Then, Kirk facedaround and saw him.
"_Careful_," DeVore thought. "_You're broadcasting. He'll pick you up._"
Kirk grimaced and DeVore saw a faint image of a tyrannosaur, whichreared up, jaws agape. Blood dripped from the human figure gripped inthe creature's talons.
"_The old ... wouldn't understand if he did._"
DeVore grinned. "_See what you mean. Well, guess I'm the next victim._"
He stepped to the door and tapped.
"Come in."
Morely looked up as his Fiscal Chief entered, then swept some papersaside. "Well, what do _you_ want?"
DeVore held out the letter. "You wanted to see me, sir, about this." Heplaced the paper within the reach of his superior, who snatched at it,held it up for a moment, then dropped it to his desk.
"Yes, I did. What can we do about it?"
"Why," DeVore spread his hands slightly, "we'll have to comply."
"That isn't what I meant, Idiot! How can we cont
inue to receive thepayments from Consolidated?"
"I don't think we can, sir. If Central Coordinating wants to put thedevice on a national basis, we can't do anything about it."
Morely looked down at the letter, then glared searchingly at DeVore."The way I read this," he declared, "they want to distributemanufacturing rights on the communicator to plants in other regions thanthis. Right?"
"Yes, sir."
"But they don't say anything about our continuing the Consolidatedpayments on an overwrite basis, for the sale of devices they may make.Now, do they?"
"No, sir. But that's implied. In cases like this, Central always takesover all rights." DeVore hesitated.
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