Part 2 (2/2)

The pith ball rose smoothly several inches, and she held the lift for ten seconds or so.

”You were helping,” she accused me in her best graveyard tones.

”Never,” I said, truthfully. ”Don't feel that it's cheating to get tactile help. I just saw a two hundred fifty gram middleweight over there at the other table run his fingers down a weight before he lifted. We all do it. It helps the grip.”

[Ill.u.s.tration]

”_You_ never do,” she accused me.

”On the big ones, Evaleen, sure I do. I'm a little sneaky about it, but I usually get a touch. Try a bigger ball.”

I looked around the gym while my encouragement helped her. No one was paying us any special attention, and I saw none of the better known telepaths in the room. That didn't mean too much, for any number of the TP's in the Manhattan Chapter had good range.

Evaleen was getting good lifts on the one-gram ball when I slipped her the question: ”You said it was dynamite,” I said, and closed my mind to the thought.

Her lift broke. ”I'm worried about the old goat in the penthouse, Lefty,” she said in a low tone. It didn't make any difference. She might as well have shouted if a TP were peeping her. I took up for her with the pith b.a.l.l.s and had them hopping up and down discreetly, just as though she were still working at her lifts with my coaching.

”You been life-lining again?” I hazarded, largely because of what Pheola had said about Maragon's having a heart attack.

”Yes, and he's going to be sick--I feel it very strongly.”

”Die?”

”He'll outlive me,” she said, more glumly than ever. I knew she could not predict past the span of her own life.

”And how long is that?” I needled.

”You can count my time in years, but not enough of them,” she said, irritated that I had asked her about her own span. I knew I shouldn't have said it. She had read her own future and found it wanting. ”But death hovers close in it,” she went on. ”You know I don't get clear pictures, Lefty, just a feeling. Death is very, very close. And you are in it.”

”And who else?” I pressed her.

”No one I ever met,” she said, telling me another limitation of her powers.

”Perhaps I can cure that, Evaleen,” I said, letting the last ball drop. More loudly I added: ”You get better every day. You could qualify for the second degree if you can do as well under standardized conditions.”

”Yes,” she agreed. ”We've talked enough. You will act on it?”

”Oddly,” I said, ”I already have. You confirm what another PC says.

I'll have you meet her.”

”You will not,” she said. ”I can't stand PC's!”

”Now try that big one,” I said, pointing to a small bra.s.s weight of two grams on the table.

She touched it and it lifted. She cried out in pleasure. ”That's my best!”

<script>