was nothing specialabout them; they were merely standard release forms, absolving thestaff and management of Desert Edge Sanatorium from every conceivableresponsibility under any conceivable circumstances, as far as WilliamLogan was concerned. Dr. Dowson gave Malone a look that said: "Verywell, Mr. Malone; I will play Pilate and wash my hands of the matter--but you needn't think I like it." It was a lot for one look to say,but Dr. Dowson's dark and sunken eyes got the message across with noloss in transmission. As a matter of fact, there seemed to be morecoming--a much less printable message was apparently on the waythrough those glittering, sad and angry eyes.
Malone avoided them nervously, and went over the papers again instead.At last he signed them and handed them back. "Thanks for yourcooperation, Dr. Dowson," he said briskly, feeling ten kinds of atraitor.
"Not at all," Dowson said bitterly. "Mr. Logan is now in your custody.I must trust you to take good care of him."
"The best care we can," Malone said. It didn't seem sufficient. Headded: "The best possible care, Doctor," and tried to look dependableand trustworthy, like a Boy Scout. He was aware that the effort failedmiserably.
At his signal, the two plainclothes FBI men took over from theattendants. They marched Logan out to their car, and Malone led theprocession back to Boyd's automobile, a procession that consisted (inorder) of Sir Kenneth Malone, prospective Duke of Columbia, QueenElizabeth I, Lady Barbara, prospective Duchess of an unspecifiedcounty, and Sir Thomas Boyd, prospective Duke of Poughkeepsie. Malonehummed a little of the first _Pomp and Circumstance_ march as theywalked; somehow, he thought it was called for.
They piled into the car, Boyd at the wheel with Malone next to him,and the two ladies in back, with Queen Elizabeth sitting directlybehind Sir Thomas. Boyd started the engine and they turned and roaredoff.
"Well," said Her Majesty with an air of great complacence, "that'sthat. That makes six of us."
Malone looked around the car. He counted the people. There were four.He said, puzzled: "Six?"
"That's right, Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty said. "You have it exactly.Six."
"You mean six telepaths?" Sir Thomas asked in a deferent tone ofvoice.
"Certainly I do," Her Majesty replied. "We telepaths, you know, muststick together. That's the reason I got poor little Willie out of thatsanatorium of his, you know--and, of course, the others will bejoining us."
"Don't you think it's time for your nap, dear?" Lady Barbara put insuddenly.
"My _what_?" It was obvious that Queen Elizabeth was Not Amused.
"Your nap, dear," Lady Barbara said.
"Don't call me dear," Her Majesty snapped.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Barbara murmured. "But really--"
"My dear girl," Her Majesty said, "I am not a child. I am yoursovereign. Do try to have a little respect. Why, I remember whenShakespeare used to say to me--but that's no matter, not now."
"About those telepaths--" Boyd began.
"Telepaths," Her Majesty said. "Ah, yes. We must all stick together.In the hospital, you know, we had a little joke--the patients forInsulin Shock Therapy used to say: 'If we don't stick together, we'llall be stuck separately.' Do you see, Sir Thomas?"
"But," Sir Kenneth Malone said, trying desperately to return to thepoint. _"Six?"_ He had counted them up in his mind. Burris hadmentioned one found in St. Elizabeths, and two more picked up later.With Queen Elizabeth, and now William Logan, that made five.
Unless the Queen was counting him in. There didn't seem any goodreason why not.
"Oh, no," Her Majesty said with a little trill of laughter, "not you,Sir Kenneth. I meant Mr. Miles."
Sir Thomas Boyd asked: "Mr. Miles?"
"That's right," Her Majesty said. "His name is Barry Miles, and yourFBI men found him an hour ago in New Orleans. They're bringing him toYucca Flats to meet the rest of us; isn't that nice?"
Lady Barbara cleared her throat.
"It really isn't necessary for you to try to get my attention, dear,"the Queen said. "After all, I do know what you're thinking."
Lady Barbara blinked. "I still want to suggest, respectfully, aboutthat nap--" she began.
"My dear girl," the Queen said, with the faintest trace of impatience,"I do not feel the least bit tired, and this is such an exciting daythat I just don't want to miss any of it. Besides, I've already toldyou I don't want a nap. It isn't polite to be insistent to yourQueen--no matter how strongly you feel about a matter. I'm sure you'lllearn to understand that, dear."
Lady Barbara opened her mouth, shut it again, and opened it once more."My goodness," she said.
"That's the idea," Her Majesty said approvingly. "Think before youspeak--and then don't speak. It really isn't necessary, since I knowwhat you're thinking."
Malone said grimly: "About this new telepath--this Barry Miles. Didthey find him--"
"In a nut-house?" Her Majesty said sweetly. "Why, of course, SirKenneth. You were quite right when you thought that telepaths wentinsane because they had a sense they couldn't effectively use, andbecause no one believed them. How would you feel, if nobody believedyou could see?"
"Strange," Malone admitted.
"There," Her Majesty said. "You see? Telepaths do go insane--it's sortof an occupational disease. Of course, not all of them are insane."
"Not all of them?" Malone felt the faint stirrings of hope. Perhapsthey would turn up a telepath yet who was completely sane andrational.
"There's me, of course," Her Majesty said.
Lady Barbara gulped audibly. Boyd said nothing, but gripped the wheelof the car more tightly.
And Malone thought to himself: _That's right. There's QueenElizabeth--who says she isn't crazy._
And then he thought of one more sane telepath. But the knowledgedidn't make him feel any better.
It was, of course, the spy.
How many more are going to turn up? Malone wondered.
"Oh, that's about all of us," the Queen said. "There is one more, butshe's in a hospital in Honolulu, and your men won't find her untiltomorrow."
Boyd turned. "Do you mean you can foretell the future, too?" he askedin a strained voice.
Lady Barbara screamed: "Keep your eyes on the wheel and your hands onthe road!"
"What?" Boyd said.
There was a terrific blast of noise, and a truck went by in theopposite direction. The driver, a big, ugly man with no hair on hishead, leaned out to curse at the quartet, but his mouth remained open.He stared at the four Elizabethans and said nothing at all as hewhizzed by.
"What was that?" Boyd asked faintly.
"That," Malone snapped, "was a truck. And it was due entirely to themercy of God that we didn't hit it. Barbara's right. Keep your eyes onthe wheel and your hands on the road." He paused and thought thatover. Then he said: "Does that mean anything at all?"
"Lady Barbara was confused by the excitement," the Queen said calmly.
"It's all right now, dear."
Lady Barbara blinked across the seat. "I was--afraid," she said.
"It's all right," the Queen said. "I'll take care of you."
"This," Malone announced to no one in particular, "is ridiculous."
Boyd swept the car around a curve and concentrated grimly on the road.After a second the Queen said: "Since you're still thinking about thequestion, I'll answer you."
"What question?" Malone said, thoroughly baffled.
"Sir Thomas asked me if I could foretell the future," the Queen saidequably. "Of course I can't. That's silly. Just because I'm immortaland I'm a telepath, don't go hog-wild."
"Then how did you know the FBI agents were going to find the girl inHonolulu tomorrow?" Boyd said.
"Because," the Queen said, "they're thinking about looking in thehospital tomorrow, and when they look they'll certainly find her."
Boyd said: "Oh," and was silent.
But Malone had a grim question. "Why didn't you tell me about theseother telepaths before?" he said. "You could have saved us a lot ofwork."
"Oh, heavens t
o Betsy, Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty exclaimed. "How couldI? After all, the proper precautions had to be taken first, didn'tthey? I told you all the others were crazy--_really_ crazy, I mean.And they just wouldn't be safe without the proper precautions."
"Perhaps you ought to go back to