The Boy Who Had the Power

by Jeff Sutton

  He saw that it was filled with strange-appearing nuts.

  "What are they?" he asked.

  "Salted almonds." answered Granny. "Try some. They're from Earth."

  He nibbled one experimentally, finding its strange bittersweet flavor pleasant to the taste.

  "Good," he admitted.

  "Take a handful," she urged. "You won't often get a treat like that."

  Scooping up a few, he plopped one into his mouth and dropped the rest into his pocket. He gazed at the crystal ball, his curiosity stirred. Sitting in the cone of light, the silvery sphere caught and reflected the rays in such a way that he was reminded of staring into the starry firmament Page 32

  during a jet black night.

  "Where are you from?" asked Granny. "I haven't heard."

  "A gran ranch on the other side of Little Paris."

  "Your folk's ranch?"

  "I haven't any parents," he explained lamely.

  "That's too bad." She smiled sympathetically. "Why did you join the carnival?"

  "To get away from Mr. Krant." He caught her inquisitive glance and continued, "He was the man I worked for. He was real mean. So was Mrs. Krant."

  "You did right to leave," she declared. "You'll be far better off with us. Do you like it here?"

  "It's great," he answered enthusiastically. "Besides, I want to go back with the carnival to Earth."

  "Why?"

  "Just to see it -- the big buildings and aircars and things like that,"

  he explained.

  "Poof, it's so crowded a soul can scarcely breathe."

  "I still want to see it," he objected. He returned his gaze to the crystal ball. "Can you really see things in that?"

  "Not really." Granny smiled and shook her head. "What I see is really in the mind, not the crystal."

  "Then why use the crystal?"

  "It helps me to concentrate, bring my thoughts into focus," she explained. "It's also a great prop."

  "What's a prop?"

  "Something to impress the rubes. They expect it."

  He digested that. "Then you don't really need the ball?"

  "It's better with it," she countered.

  "What I meant was that you really don't see anything in it," he explained.

  She displayed her dentures in a bright smile. "But if it brings the vision alive in my mind, it's the same thing."

  "But what you think isn't actually reflected in the ball," he protested.

  "You said that yourself."

  "Perhaps, I'm not always certain." She eyed him gravely. "When I'm concentrating, I see a vision, but exactly where it is, I can't say. I imagine that it's in my mind, but it might also be in the ball."

  "Suppose someone else looked into the ball?"

  She shook her head. "It wouldn't work unless that person had the power."

  "The power!" He was startled. "Do you mean the ability to see the future?"

  "That's just one kind of psychic power," explained Granny. "There are many other kinds."

  "Such as?" He waited, tense and breathless.

  "The ability to see around corners, or to move objects by mental force..."

  "Move them by just thinking?" he cut in.

  Granny nodded. "That's called psychokinesis."

  "Can that be done?"

  "Of course, Jedro." She explained about levitation, teleportation, the ability to commune with the dead, raise the dead, and call up poltergeists.

  "What are they?" he interrupted.

  "Poltergeists?" Granny chuckled. "You might call them noisy ghosts."

  Awed, he asked, "Do you believe all that?"

  "Certainly." Her lips crinkled into a smile. "The universe is far stranger than we know, Jedro."

  "A box of puzzles," he observed, remembering Mr. Clement's words.

  "That's a good way of putting it." Her eyes were approving. "But nothing is stranger than the Page 33

  human mind. Most people just inhabit its surface; they never look deep inside. And it's the nether part of the mind that's most fascinating. Strange tides are at flood down there, Jedro."

  "I don't understand."

  "The brain is the house of the mind," she explained. "It's a dark cavern filled with spooks, but it holds a lot of goodies, too."

  "How do you get the goodies?" Fascinated, he stared at her, his mind awhirl with what she was saying.

  "It's a gift, Jedro, a genetic one. But with such a gift, there's no end to what the mind can do."

  He asked carefully, "Could a person tell when he's going to die?"

  Her head jerked up. "What makes you ask that?"

  "I just wondered." Flustered, he shifted his gaze to the crystal ball.

  Granny asked sharply, "Have you heard of such a person?"

  "I heard a boy talking about it," he lied glibly.

  "What boy?"

  "A fellow I met, back in Little Paris."

  Granny looked at him. Against the black background, her ancient face and clawlike hands appeared afloat in some black and endless sea. "That would be a form of psychic power," she finally commented.

  He forced his gaze back to her face. "What do you call it?"

  "A form of precognition, the ability to see into the future."

  "But isn't that what you do when you tell fortunes?"

  "Not a bit. I predict from what I see of the present, Jedro."

  "By reading minds?"

  "Every good fortune teller is a bit of a telepath." she explained.

  "Is that what you are, a telepath?"

  "Gracious, you are inquisitive." She favored him with another smile.

  "Are you?" he persisted. He had the frantic feeling of having to know.

  "Now and then," she conceded.

  Curious, he asked. "Why only now and then?"

  "I don't know, Jedro. Perhaps there's a door in the mind that opens and shuts. Who understands the human mind? I certainly don't."

  He grinned. "But you know what lives in it."

  "I know that." She nodded. "But you can understand the sea without being able to swim," she added.

  He weighed her words, sensing an evasion. "Can I look in the ball?"

  Granny smiled. "Would you like me to tell your fortune?"

  He thought of Mr. Clement, The Tattooed Man, and the memory stone and shook his head. He couldn't risk what she might see. "I'd just like to take a peek," he explained.

  "Go right ahead," she invited, "but get comfortable. Gaze straight into the ball and try not to think of anything. Keep your mind blank."

  Jedro adjusted himself in the chair before riveting his attention on the ball. His first impression was of staring into a murky sky. The crystal sphere was bright, silvery, solid-appearing. Catching the light from the overhead lamp, it brought the rays into a sharp focus that hurt his eyes.

  But suddenly the murk appeared to dissolve; it was like gazing down into the black pools in the Ullan Hills, glimpsing the sandy bottom through dark waters. Concentrating, he endeavored to shut out the world around him; all thought of Granny receded from his mind.

  The hard light waned and vanished, becoming an even luminescence that pervaded every part of the crystal sphere. He had the swift impression that by some magic he had been transported into the vast loneliness of outer space;

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  his eyes beheld an awesome infinity. Silence engulfed him.

  The dream returned.

  It came to life in the crystal depths. As before, it unfolded scene by scene with the stark clarity of reality. The man in the oblong box! Jedro's body twitched and jerked and his hands shook violently. Perspiration beaded his brow.

  "What is it?" A voice, coming as if from a great distance, touched his mind. Granny's voice! He struggled to pull himself back to conscious reality.

  "What is it?" she demanded insistently. He looked into her ancient eyes, unable to shake the vividness of the image. He felt unutterably weary.

  "What is it, Jedro?" she asked more calmly.

  "
I s-saw something I dreamed once."

  "Saw?"

  "In the crystal ball."

  "What did you see?"

  "A man in an oblong box." He felt compelled to answer. "Perhaps it was a coffin. He was old and pale and had long white hair. The coffin was inside a silver ship...or I think it was a ship." He closed his eyes, still sensing the sharpness of the imagery.

  Granny leaned closer. "Was that all?"

  "His eyes opened; they were clear and blue. Then he said, 'I have been waiting.'"

  "Nothing more?" she demanded. Her dark eyes focused into small glittering points.

  "I...saw stars."

  "Stars?" she whispered. "Describe them, Jedro."

  He told her of the big reddish disc with the four silvery spheres grouped around it, and of the strange star with the gleaming bands encircling

  it. Speaking, he heard his own words as if from afar.

  "Jupiter and Saturn," commented Granny.

  "What are they?"

  "The two largest planets in the solar system. The sun system of the home world," she added.

  "The four smaller planets were moons of Jupiter. It really has twelve moons but perhaps you were viewing it from too great a distance to see the others."

  "Moons..." He contemplated the word wonderingly. Although Doorn had no moon, he'd heard of the naked planet that circled Earth. "What are the bands around the other planet, the one you called Saturn?"

  "Meteoritic dust." Granny leaned closer. "What else did you see?"

  "A big rock tumbling through space." He spoke reluctantly, yet with a certain relief. Perhaps Granny could explain the meaning of the dream. The pupils of her eyes appeared to grow sharper and sharper as he described the silver sphere he'd seen deep in the black rock valley, and the alien skies above. His voice broke as he told of the faraway golden sun. Finally he ceased speaking.

  "When did you first have the dream?" asked Granny.

  "It was" -- he tried to remember -- "just a few weeks after I saw Mr.

  Clement..." He stopped abruptly, aghast at his words.

  "Clement?" Granny's voice rose. "Where did you see him?"

  Jedro shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "He was one of the gran herders," he lied lamely.

  "Jedro?"

  "Well, he was." He eyed her defiantly.

  "You can trust me," she coaxed.

  "But he was," he protested.

  "Jedro" -- she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper -- "never mention that dream to Page 35

  anyone. Never even whisper that name."

  "Mr. Clement?"

  She nodded. "Not a peep."

  "Why?" he asked bewilderedly.

  "It's dangerous, Jedro."

  "But why?"

  "I can't tell you," she replied firmly.

  "But if you know..."

  "But I don't," she interrupted. "I know just enough to realize that the knowledge is dangerous."

  "To me?"

  "Yes, Jedro." She nodded solemnly.

  "I won't tell anyone," he promised.

  "Never forget that." She leaned forward, scrutinizing him. Her bony hand rested alongside the crystal ball. "Now tell me about Mr. Clement," she instructed briskly.

  Jedro returned her gaze. For a long moment they regarded each other silently. "I can't," he said finally.

  "Can't?" She lifted her seamed face.

  "I just promised you that I wouldn't." Before she could answer, he sprang to his feet and bolted from the room. Granny went to the door, watching him retreat down the sawdust street. Finally she smiled.

  A satisfied smile.

  The dream had meaning!

  Gazing up at the dark ceiling of the wagon, Jedro pondered that fact.

  The old man in the oblong box and Mr. Clement somehow were related. Although Granny hadn't stated that as a fact, her warning and sharp interrogation left scant doubt of that.

  But how had Granny known about Mr. Clement? Perhaps he'd been with the carnival. That also would explain the connection between Mr.

  Clement and The Tattooed Man. But it didn't explain the man in the oblong box.

  Perhaps he should have told Granny the whole story. Debating it, he decided that silence was better. Besides, he couldn't tell her about Mr.

  Clement without mentioning the memory stone...and The Tattooed Man, and he certainly couldn't do that. He shuddered at what might happen if The Tattooed Man should discover what he knew.

  Who was the man in the oblong box? Granny hadn't said. Reflecting on it, he realized she hadn't appeared overly concerned with the dream until he'd let slip Mr. Clement's name; then she'd reacted as if she'd been burned.

  Just having knowledge of Mr. Clement was dangerous; Granny had been explicit about that. But if the knowledge were dangerous, it also must be valuable. To whom? The Tattooed Man?

  Granny hadn't explained that point. Or did she know? He felt a sense of bafflement. There was so much he didn't know.

  And when he summed up what he did know, it didn't make much sense.

  He tossed the odds and ends around in his mind. If his conclusions were right, the man in the oblong box, Mr. Clement, The Tattooed Man, and the memory stone were all linked. More, he was part of the link. Yet what possible relation could he have, say, to the man in the oblong box?

  He couldn't imagine.

  He reached under the tarp he was using for a pillow, fumbling around until he located the stone.

  Its immediate warmth was reassuring. Why had Mr.

  Clement called it a memory stone? You'll know when the time comes -- the gaunt man's words came back. You have the power -- he'd said that, too.

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  Power? Granny had used the word to describe the ability to see into the future. That was but one kind of power, she'd said. He felt a flare of excitement that as quickly died. It was crazy to imagine that he could see into the future, or to do any of the other wonderful things she'd mentioned.

  Perhaps Mr. Clement had meant something else. Yet, looking into the crystal ball, he'd seen his dream!

  What did it all mean?

  He looked at the sky through the end of the wagon; the winking red eyes of Glost peered down at him. Somewhere in that vastness of space was a tumbling black world; on it was a silver ship and in the silver ship was an oblong box in which an old man waited. Was that more than a dream? He felt certain it was.

  Next morning, while walking with Kathy along the sawdust street, he asked, "Have you ever looked into Granny's crystal ball?"

  "Not up close," she admitted.

  "I did." He stared straight ahead.

  "See anything?"

  "A dream I once had."

  "A dream?"

  "About an old man in a...coffin."

  "Someone you knew?"

  "No." He shook his head. "He was an old man with long white hair. He spoke to me."

  "He did?" she asked incredulously.

  "In the dream." He glanced away self-consciously. "He said he had been waiting."

  "Why would you dream a thing like that?"

  "I don't know," he admitted.

  "Did you tell Granny about it?"

  "She asked."

  "What did she say?"

  "She warned me not to tell anyone."

  Kathy halted, facing him. "Why, Jedro?"

  "She said it was dangerous." He described the black world tumbling through space, the silver ship and its strange cargo, but made no mention of

  Mr. Clement, The Tattooed Man, or the memory stone. Those things he couldn't tell her.

  "That's strange," she mused, when he'd finished. "When did you first have the dream?"

  "Back when I was a gran herder."

  "Do you think it has any meaning?"

  "Granny does, but there's something else that bothers me." He saw her waiting expression and continued, "The two planets I saw in the dream were Jupiter and Saturn."

  "What's so strange about that?"

  "I never heard of them before
, never knew they existed. But there they were, in my dream."

  She said slowly, "You believe it's more than a dream, don't you?"

  "I think so."

  "That would frighten me." She looked worriedly at him. "I wouldn't tell anyone about it, Jedro."

  "Because of what Granny said?"

  "She warned you not to."

  "What could she know about it?" he demanded.

  "I don't know." Kathy glanced toward the fortune teller's booth. "She knows an awful lot."

  "Yea," he said heavily.

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  6

  JEDRO AWOKE with the feeling.

  Hurriedly dressing, he clambered down from the wagon. A single shaft of light came from the mess tent and he heard the clatter of pots. An orange-yellow thread lay astride the eastern horizon and the paling sky above it was clear. Low in the west, where the sky still was dark, he saw the glimmer of stars. The air was nippy, but calm.

  Outwardly, it was much like any other morning. Nevertheless, he knew it was going to rain. Not only rain, but storm violently. His mind whispered of fierce winds. He couldn't remember having had the feeling quite so strongly.

  The horses and relks, crowding against the fence, whinnied softly at his approach. He sensed their uneasiness. It was communicated by their quick, restless movements, the skittish way they tossed their heads. They know, he thought. He spoke encouragingly to them as he brought their feed and refilled the water troughs.

  He found the lions restlessly prowling their cage. In the heavy gloom, broken only by the single night-light that hung from the center pole, they resembled gray shadows. Heads lowered, they padded back and forth inside the bars. Taber saw him and halted, switching his tail. His golden eyes glowed in the dim light.

  Jedro reached between the bars and scratched him. "Everything will be all right, fellow." A soft rumbling came from the big cat's throat. As Rana pressed forward, he tickled her under the chin.

  Taber turned his head, gazing at him. Jedro fancied that the animal's eyes were filled with understanding.

  After breakfast he went outside. Klore, climbing swiftly, flooded the scape with its yellow light.

  He scanned the banners and posters that lined the sawdust street. Most, he knew, could be adequately secured or quickly taken down. But what of the big tent?