Brain Twister | Page 3

to find a clear,
cold intelligence. Or even, for that matter, what one was.
1
"They could be anywhere," Burris said, with an expression which
bordered on exasperated horror. "They could be all around us. Heaven
only knows."
He pushed his chair back from his desk and stood up, a chunky little
man with bright blue eyes and large hands. He paced to the window
and looked out at Washington, and then he came back to the desk. A
persistent office rumor held that he had become head of the FBI purely
because he happened to have an initial J in his name, but in his case the
J stood for Jeremiah. And, at the moment, his tone expressed all the
hopelessness of that Old Testament prophet's lamentations.
"We're helpless," he said, looking at the young man with the crisp
brown hair who was sitting across the desk. "That's what it is, we're
helpless."
Kenneth Malone tried to look dependable. "Just tell me what to do," he
said.
"You're a good agent, Kenneth," Burris said. "You're one of the best.
That's why you've been picked for this job. And I want to say that I
picked you personally. Believe me, there's never been anything like it
before."
"I'll do my best," Malone said at random. He was twenty-six, and he

had been an FBI agent for three years. In that time, he had, among other
things, managed to break up a gang of smugglers, track down a
counterfeiting ring, and capture three kidnappers. For reasons which he
could neither understand nor explain, no one seemed willing to
attribute his record to luck.
"I know you will," Burris said. "And if anybody can crack this case,
Malone, you're the man. It's just that--everything sounds so impossible.
Even after all the conferences we've had."
"Conferences?" Malone said vaguely. He wished the Chief would get to
the point. Any point. He smiled gently across the desk and tried to look
competent and dependable and reassuring. Burris' expression didn't
change.
"You'll get the conference tapes later," Burris said. "You can study
them before you leave. I suggest you study them very carefully, Malone.
Don't be like me. Don't get confused." He buried his face in his hands.
Malone waited patiently. After a few seconds, Burris looked up. "Did
you read books when you were a child?" he asked.
Malone said: "What?"
"Books," Burris said. "When you were a child. Read them."
"Sure I did," Malone said. "Bomba the Jungle Boy, and Doctor
Doolittle, and Lucky Starr, and Little Women--"
"Little Women?"
"When Beth died," Malone said, "I wanted to cry. But I didn't. My
father said big boys don't cry."
"And your father was right," Burris said. "Why, when I was a--never
mind. Forget about Beth and your father. Think about Lucky Starr for a
minute. Remember him?"
"Sure," Malone said. "I liked those books. You know it's funny, but the

books you read when you're a kid, they kind of stay with you. Know
what I mean? I can still remember that one about Venus, for instance.
Gee, that was--"
"Never mind about Venus, too," Burris said sharply. "Keep your mind
on the problem."
"Yes, sir," Malone said. He paused. "What problem, sir?" he added.
"The problem we're discussing," Burris said. He gave Malone a bright,
blank stare. "My God," he said. "Just listen to me."
"Yes, sir."
"All right, then." Burris took a deep breath. He seemed nervous. Once
again he stood up and went to the window. This time, he spoke without
turning. "Remember how everybody used to laugh about spaceships,
and orbital satellites, and life on other planets? That was just in those
Lucky Starr books. That was all just for kids, wasn't it?"
"Well, I don't know," Malone said slowly.
"Sure it was all for kids," Burris said. "It was laughable. Nobody took it
seriously."
"Well, somebody must--"
"You just keep quiet and listen," Burris said.
"Yes, sir," Malone said.
Burris nodded. His hands were clasped behind his back. "We're not
laughing any more, are we, Malone?" he said without moving.
There was silence.
"Well, are we?"
"Did you want me to answer, sir?"

"Of course I did!" Burris snapped.
"You told me to keep quiet and--"
"Never mind what I told you," Burris said. "Just do what I told you."
"Yes, sir," Malone said. "No, sir," he added after a second.
"No, sir, what?" Burris asked softly.
"No, sir, we're not laughing any more," Malone said.
"Ah," Burris said. "And why aren't we laughing any more?"
There was a little pause. Malone said, tentatively: "Because there's
nothing to laugh about, sir?"
Burris whirled. "On the head!" he said happily. "You've hit the nail on
the head, Kenneth. I knew I could depend on you." His voice grew
serious again, and thoughtful.