“I give up,” conceded Coburn. “You set up an hypothesis and made it plausible.
But how are you going to check it? I don’t see any place to get hold of it. It’s a very pretty speculation, but without a working procedure, it’s just fantasy.”
Huxley rolled over and stared unhappily up through the branches. “That’s the rub. I’ve lost my best wild talent case. I don’t know where to begin.”
“But, Phil,” protested Joan. “You want normal subjects, and then try to develop special abilities in them. I think it’s wonderful. When do we start?”
“When do we start what?”
“On me, of course. Take that ability to do lightning calculations, for example.
If you could develop that in me, you’d be a magician. I got bogged down in first year algebra. I don’t know the multiplication tables even now!”
Chapter Three “Every Man His Own Genius”
“Shall we get busy?” asked Phil.
“Oh, let’s not,” Joan objected. “Let’s drink our coffee in peace and let dinner settle. We haven’t seen Ben for two weeks. I want to hear what he’s been doing up in San Francisco.”
“Thanks, darling,” the doctor answered, “but I’d much rather hear about the Mad Scientist and his Trilby.”
“Trilby, hell,” Huxley protested, “She’s as independent as a hog on ice.
However, we’ve got something to show you this time, Doc.”
“Really? That’s good. What?”
“Well, as you know, we didn’t make much progress for the first couple of months.
It was all up hill. Joan developed a fair telepathic ability, but it was erratic and unreliable. As for mathematical ability, she had learned her multiplication tables, but as for being a lightning calculator, she was a washout.”
Joan jumped up, crossed between the men and the fireplace, and entered her tiny Pullman kitchen. “I’ve got to scrape these dishes and put them to soak before the ants get at ’em. Talk loud, so I can hear you.
“What can Joan do now, Phil?”
“I’m not going to tell you. You wait and see. Joan! Where’s the card table?”
“Back of the couch. No need to shout. I can hear plainly since I got my Foxy Grandma Stream — lined Ear Trumpet.”
“Okay, wench, I found it. Cards in the usual place?”
“Yes, I’ll be with you in a moment.” She reappeared whisking off a giddy kitchen apron, and sat down on the couch, hugging her knees. “The Great Gaga, the Ghoul of Hollywood is ready.
Sees all, knows all, and tells a darnsight more. Fortunetelling, teethpulling, and refined entertainment for the entire family.”
“Cut out the clowning. We’ll start out with a little straight telepathy. Throw every thing else out of gear. Shuffle the cards, Ben.”
Coburn did so. “Now what?”
“Deal ’em off, one at a time, letting you and me see ’em, but not Joan. Call ’em off, kid.”
Ben dealt them out slowly. Joan commenced to recite in a sing-song voice, “Seven of diamonds; jack of hearts; ace of hearts; three of spades; ten of diamonds; six of clubs; nine of spades; eight of clubs — ”
“Ben, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you look amazed.”
“Right through the deck without a mistake. Grandfather Stonebender couldn’t have done better.”
“That’s high praise, chum. Let’s try a variation. and sit out this one. Don’t let me see them. I don’t know how it will work, as we never worked with anyone else. Try it.”
A few minutes later Coburn put down the last card. “Perfect! Not a mistake.”.Joan got up and came over to the table. “How come this deck has two tens of hearts in it?”
She riffled through the deck, and pulled out one card. “Oh! You thought the seventh card was the ten of hearts; it was the ten of diamonds. See?”
“I guess I did,” Ben admitted, “I’m sorry I threw you a curve. The light isn’t any too good.”
“Joan prefers artistic lighting effects to saving her eyes,” explained Phil.
“I’m glad it happened; it shows she was using telepathy, not clairvoyance. Now for a spot of mathematics. We’ll skip the usual stunts like cube roots, instantaneous addition, logarithms of hyperbolic functions, and stuff. Take my word for it; she can do ’em. You can try her later on those simple tricks.