DO YOU KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT
... what Hannibal secreted in his howdah as he crossed the Alps?
.... what Col. John Glenn carried aloft as he orbited the Earth?
... what George Washington used to paddle across the Delaware?
... what Napoleon clutched in the fist inside his jacket?
.... what Lucrezia Borgia used for her poisoned-feast recipes?
THE UNVARNISHED TRUTH IS
... that in none of these instances was the item a copy of Atoms and Evil. Part of the reason is that these people were very busy at the time. The rest of the reason is that this book had not yet been published. But now—you can be the first on your block to own the new Bloch.
ATOMS
AND
EVIL
by Robert Bloch
An Original Gold Medal Collection
TRY THIS FOR PSIS
ONCE upon a time there was a sane scientist who had an ugly daughter.
The scientist’s name was Dr. Angus Welk, and in the Anthropology Department of a large eastern university he was the brachycephalic head. He was, naturally, a staunch believer in the physical sciences. At the same time, he detested anything abstract. He had a particular hatred for that branch of scientific investigation known as parapsychology—the investigation of extrasensory perception and psychokinesis. “There is absolutely no such thing as telepathy,” he often declared. “It’s all in your mind.”
Nor was Dr. Welk content to let the matter rest there. He made a constant habit of challenging every investigator in the field of ESP or psi phenomena. He heckled them at lectures, he wrote indignant letters to psychiatric journals, he published a long monograph entitled “Extrasensory Deception.” And during his summer vacation, when his colleagues roamed over the New England states with their cameras, happily exposing film, Dr. Welk covered the same territory, happily exposing spiritualist mediums. So perhaps Dr. Welk was not completely sane.
And maybe his daughter, Nora, was not entirely ugly. True, everything about her was just a little larger than life-size. Her nose was a trifle big and her mouth was too wide, and her cheekbones were so prominent they might easily have run for public office. But in an era which bows down before the busts of Monroe, Loren, Lollobrigida and Ekberg, she possessed certain other attributes which might be considered outstanding. In fact, one might easily search the wide world over without finding her equal in either hemisphere.
It was not necessary, however, to conduct a global mission in order to discover Nora Welk’s whereabouts. As a graduate student she served as her father’s secretary, and also ran his household. Dr. Welk was a widower, and secretly considered himself fortunate in that his daughter had never shown the slightest interest in young men.
“When the right mate for you comes along,” he often told her, “I’ll let you know. I’ll recognize him by his cephalic index, and we’ll conduct a controlled experiment. A true eugenic mating, my dear. Won’t that be nice?”
Nora used to agree that it would be just splendid, but as time went on she began to entertain doubts. Maybe that’s because doubts were all she ever had to entertain—nobody asked her for a date, and whenever she timidly mentioned a young man’s name in her father’s presence he would denounce the individual as a dolichocephalic dolt.
Just how long they might have continued their sane, ugly life together is problematical—if a problem hadn’t arisen in the shape of Frank Tallent.
Frank Tallent didn’t have much of a shape. He was short, sandy-haired, and myopic, and weighed about a hundred and ten pounds, dripping wet—if he climbed on the bathroom scale with a heavy bar of soap in each hand.
But he happened to sit next to Nora Welk at a lecture one evening, and the damage was done.
All during the talk he kept staring at her profile, occasionally lifting his eyes to her face, and when the session ended he noticed that she seemed to have some trouble finding her purse.
As she groped about her, he touched her arm. “I beg your pardon, Miss,” he said, “but the purse is under your seat.”
Nora blinked at him. “I just looked there,” she declared.
Frank Tallent reddened. “I wasn’t referring to the wooden one,” he murmured. “If you’ll just get up—”
Sure enough, there was the purse.
Now it was Nora’s turn to blush. “Thank you,” she said. “I can’t imagine how it got there. I guess I was so interested in the speech I didn’t notice when it slid behind me.” She smiled at Frank. “It was an interesting speech, wasn’t it?”
“I thought it stunk,” Frank said, with more vehemence than grammar.
Nora’s eyes flashed. “Is that so? And just what was wrong with it, might I ask?”
“Why, that old goat doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Frank answered. “Just because you can’t weigh it or measure it or put it under a microscope, he claims there isn’t any such thing as clairvoyance.”
“I suppose you know differently?”
“Of course I do.” Frank peered up at her through his glasses. “I’m taking a special course in the Psych Department, under Professor Seine. He’s probably the most famous authority on parapsychology in the country.”
Nora sniffed. “Professor Seine is a crackpot,” she declared. “And the old goat who delivered tonight’s lecture happens to be my father.”
She started to brush past Frank, but the young man reached out his hand and grabbed her by the elbow.
“Better empty out your purse first, before you go,” he said. “The stopper came out of your perfume bottle and your things are getting soaked.”
Nora halted and scrabbled in her handbag.
“You’re right!” she exclaimed. “How on earth did you know?”
“I’m a psychic sensitive.” Frank answered, modestly. “Dr. Seine is using me to run experiments. I could see what was going on inside your handbag. It isn’t a matter of actual eyesight, you know.”
Nora started to nod, then shook her head. “Of course not,” she agreed. “It isn’t eyesight at all. You could smell that perfume leaking and you just jumped to conclusions. My father says that’s how Professor Seine distorts all his data. He’s explained everything to me—but of course, you wouldn’t be interested.”
“On the contrary, I’m very much interested,” Frank protested. “Maybe you’d be good enough to tell me about your father’s theories. Over a cup of coffee, perhaps?”
Nora hesitated a moment.
“I’ll buy you a hamburger, too,” Frank went on. “After all, you didn’t eat any supper.”
“How did you know that?”
“Psychic.” Frank grinned faintly as he rose. Nora hesitated once more.
“Don’t worry about your father,” Frank went on. “He’s backstage talking to the reporters, telling them what a fool Professor Seine is and what a courageous investigator he is.”
“Is that supposed to be another demonstration of your psyclear powers?” Nora inquired.
“Just a guess,” Frank admitted. “But I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Probably. Only you’re wrong about my father and his theories. Let me tell you—”
So she told him over a hamburger, and over a cup of coffee, and over two cigarettes.
At the end of it all, Frank Tallent sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve heard all these arguments before. Table-tipping and levitation isn’t telekinesis, but a fake. Mind-precognition in dreams is just coincidence, and so forth. But the trouble is, I can do these things. I do them every day, with Professor Seine. He says I’m the most remarkable subject he’s seen since Lady, the Talking Horse.”
?
??Does he hypnotize you?” Nora asked, as they left the restaurant and walked along the darkened streets.
“Of course not. It’s just something that seems to come naturally. I never knew I had ESP or psi powers at all until I came to the university and got into his class. He asked for volunteers one day when he was demonstrating telekinesis with a pair of dice, and I got up and threw thirty passes in a row. After that he took an interest in me.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Nora scoffed. “If I could throw thirty passes in a row I’d go to Las Vegas and make a fortune.”
“It isn’t that easy,” Frank explained. “Apparently the subliminal mind is influenced adversely by the conscious mind when the element of personal gain enters into the situation. I had the same idea after throwing the passes, of course. I got into a little crap game with some of the boys in my dormitory.”
“What happened?”
“I lost eighteen bucks the first five minutes.”
“You see?” Nora nodded. “It doesn’t really work. That’s why none of these so-called mind readers ever make a killing on the stock market.”
“I explained about that,” Frank answered. “You can’t control the phenomena. And if you’re seeking some kind of reward, you freeze up. But the fact remains, I did throw thirty straight passes with those dice in the classroom.”
“Then either the dice were loaded, or you were.”
“Impossible. Professor Seine is an honest man, and I don’t drink.” Frank took the girl’s arm as they entered the park and halted near a bench. “If I could only make you understand,” he said. “Sit down here a moment. Maybe I can give you a demonstration.”
They took their places on a bench.
“Now,” Frank began. “Take your feet off the ground. That’s it. I’ll do the same. We’re sitting quietly, right? And the bench is firmly balanced on the grass, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Watch this,” Frank said.
Suddenly the bench beneath them began to move. It tipped forward and the girl, with a gasp of astonishment, slid into his arms.
“What happened?” she murmured.
“Telekinesis,” he told her, tightening his embrace. “What do you think of it?”
“It’s wonderful,” Nora sighed snuggling closer.
“Would you like another demonstration? How about a little supernormal perception?”
“Whatever you say,” Nora was beginning to feel quite conscious of this young man’s psychic aura; it positively made her tingle all over. She had never dreamed that a scientific experiment could be so interesting.
To her disappointment, Frank released her suddenly and stood up.
“All right,” he said. “Here’s what you do. I’m going to walk over there and stand under that tree, with my back to you. I want you to take something out of your purse and hide it while I’m not looking. Then it’s up to me to find it.”
Strictly in the spirit of scientific inquiry, Nora selected an old class ring from the bottom of her purse and tucked it under the inner pleat at the neckline of her blouse.
When Frank returned to her side he immediately placed his fingers on her throat and again Nora felt the tingling thrill she was learning to associate with parapsychological investigation. As she felt his hand gradually descend, however, she became apprehensive.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.
“Why, looking for your ring,” Frank told her. “It is a ring you concealed, isn’t it?”
“Yes—but not there. Its up there, under the neckline.”
“That’s where you intended to put it,” Frank answered„ continuing his search. “But it slipped down. In fact, quite a ways down. Don’t worry, though, I’ll get it.”
“It can’t be that far down,” the girl protested.
“Oh, but it is. Hold still! Remember, this is just an experiment.”
Even controlled experiments can sometimes get out of hand, and this particular experiment rapidly became uncontrolled. There was no doubt in either of their minds, however, as to the experiment’s success. Within two minutes Frank had found Nora’s ring, and before another five minutes had elapsed, they were engaged to be married.
Since Dr. Angus Welk did not possess psi powers, he was quite blissfully unaware of his daughter’s clandestine engagement. This situation seemed ideal to both Nora and Frank. Their courtship was conducted in the park and at times in the last parking space at the rear of a drive-in movie. Since neither of them cared for motion pictures, they were free to continue their research into the supernormal, and Nora quickly graduated from the status of willing pupil to adoring convert. She soon learned that no matter what she hid nor where she hid it, Frank could seek it out unerringly. Just how long she might have continued as a subject for a wide field of investigation is problematical, had not an unforeseen crisis arisen.
The unforeseen crisis, in the person of Professor Seine, changed everything. The unforeseen Seine suddenly went off on a parapsychological wingding.
“It’s murder, that’s what it is!” Frank announced to Nora one late summer evening, after greeting her at the park entrance they had chosen for a trysting place. “Did you see tonight’s paper? Did your father tell you?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve just come from the office. Daddy stayed home all day today. What’s the matter?”
“It’s Seine. He’s been grumbling about your father’s attacks on him for months now. Says it’s ridiculous that two men from the same university faculty should dispute with each other about a perfectly self-evident matter. And now he wants to bring the matter to a head. He issued a public challenge to your father today. Invited him to select a committee of six—anyone he wants—to witness a demonstration of parapsychological phenomena. He’s coming to your father’s house tomorrow with a subject, prepared to prove his case.”
“That’s terrible,” the girl agreed. “Daddy’s going to be awfully upset.”
“He’s not the only one,” Frank muttered. “The subject Professor Seine selected for his demonstration happens to be me.”
“No—he couldn’t!”
“He could, and he did. After all, I’m his star example. He wants to write this book about me, remember?”
“But why didn’t you refuse?”
Frank paused and gulped.
“You could have refused,” Nora continued, relentlessly. “Didn’t we agree we’d keep our engagement a secret until you graduated, so Daddy would never know you were mixed up in these experiments? Didn’t I tell you that he’d rather see me married to a psychopath than to a psychic sensitive? And didn’t you promise me that you’d give up your investigations after you finished school and get an honest job in some laboratory where they do real psychological work—like ringing bells and teaching dogs to salivate?”
“Sure,” Frank answered. “I wanted to make a good impression on your father. Approach him wearing a white smock and carrying a test tube full of Airedale saliva in one hand. But Professor Seine has convinced me, Nora. This work is important. If we can control ESP and psi powers it means the opening of a whole new era. Your father’s a scientist. Surely, if we demonstrate the truth to him, he’ll understand.”
Nora began to sniffle. “He’s a scientist, yes, but as you once remarked, he’s also an old goat. Can’t you understand? No matter what kind of proof you present, he won’t believe it. He’ll just hate you for it and then we’ll never get married.” She sobbed aloud. “I don’t think you really want to marry me, anyway. You just like to have somebody around to experiment on.”
“That’s not true, you know it isn’t. I’m sure we’re going to be married.” Frank spoke gravely. “My supernormal percipience is never wrong. I’ve told you that sometimes I have these prophetic dreams, haven’t I? And they always come true. Well, last night I had another. In this dream I saw you lying in bed. And you weren’t alone.”
“Let’s not be vulgar,” the girl murmured.
“What’s vulgar about
a baby?” Frank demanded. “You were lying in bed with this newborn child. Cutest little thing you ever saw—looked just like me.”
“Boy or girl?” Nora asked, eagerly.
“That I can’t tell you. The alarm rang and I woke up. You know how noises distract psi powers. Professor Seine has already warned your father about that—tomorrow’s experiments must be conducted under fair conditions.”
Nora put her hands on his shoulders. “You really intend to marry me, then,” she said, softly.
“Of course I do. And the dream proves it.”
“It proves something else, too, then,” the girl said. “The experiments can’t be conducted fairly.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Listen to me, now. I know Daddy. If you go to him and demonstrate your powers, he’ll just flip. On the other hand, if you flop, he’ll be delighted. He’ll feel so good about proving his case that he’ll agree to anything. I know this isn’t the Dark Ages, darling—we could get married without his consent, any time we want. But I happen to love him too, even if he is an old goat. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in the middle of a family quarrel.”
“Do you want to spend the rest of your life with a faker?” Frank snapped. “As far as I’m concerned, we are in the Dark Ages, until we successfully demonstrate the unsuspected powers of the human mind. Now Professor Seine’s theory—”
Nora stamped her foot. “I wish Professor Seine would stick his theory in a pigeonhole and forget it! What I want to know, will you play along with me or won’t you?”
“There’s nothing I’d rather do,” said Frank, and meant it. “But Nora, I just can’t. Don’t worry, things will work out anyway. I saw our baby in a dream—”
“As far as I’m concerned, that’s the only place you’ll ever see it,” Nora told him.
The girl turned and clattered out of the park. Frank sat down on a bench and groaned. He knew he was right. They were going to have a baby. But now he realized that it wasn’t going to be accomplished through extrasensory perception.
Professor Etienne Seine whistled with Gallic gaiety as he piloted his Porsche in the direction of Dr. Welk’s big house just outside of town. The Professor, despite his position as a member of the psychological savant-garde, had not developed any ESP powers of his own. Consequently it was some time before he noted the dejected air of the young man seated at his side.