"Correct , " the professor said. "The effect of the observer is more profound, even. In the case of Schrodinger-and his poor unfortunate imaginary cat-an observer is required required before an observation can be made." before an observation can be made."

"Like Schrodinger's cat-no one can know if the cat is dead or alive without actually opening the airtight box and looking," Peter agreed.

"Exactly," the professor replied entusiastically. "And we Talented people are very special observers. While nothing can be said to have happened without an observer, we, with our Talents, can make things happen the way we want them."

"So I teleport objects by wanting wanting them to be where they need to go." them to be where they need to go."

"Very good. But I would have said, we move objects by observing observing them to be in their new location," the professor corrected, nodding furiously. them to be in their new location," the professor corrected, nodding furiously.

"And telepathy?" Peter asked.

"Telepathy is even easier. It is purely a quantum-mechanical effect , " the professor said. "Telepaths think they are talking with someone, and that someone hears them-neural stimulation at the quantum mechanical level."

Peter's face lit up with understanding as he absorbed the professor's explanation. "Our Talents work because we want want them to!" them to!"

"Exactly."

"And the gestalt generators?"

"They increase our ability to realize quantum-mechanical effects on a greater scale, as well as handling any specific energy concerns."

Peter frowned. "That doesn't explain why I get better results with some generators than others."

"To understand that, I would need to see your telemetry-some measurements," the professor replied.

Peter grinned. "I understand that you've been looking into this, and we have collected quite a lot of telemetry from our work up here on Padrugoi. I can download it to you now."

The professor glanced at his watch. "For you, Peter, I will make time to a.n.a.lyze the data. Let me clear my schedule while you commence the download."

Fifteen minutes later, Peter and Professor Gadriel were elbowdeep in their acc.u.mulated data.

"I see what you mean here, Peter, about the various loads," Professor Gadriel agreed, highlighting one section of a graph.. "It certainly looks like everyone goes through a period of adjustment when they first join into gestalt with a generator."

"What I've been trying to understand, Professor, is why I can't get a correlation between graphs for different generators," Peter said.

"Please, Peter, it would be easier for me if you called me Tomas," Professor Gadriel said, smiling. "We are friends now, non?" non?"

Peter swallowed. Professor Gadriel was easily twenty years his senior-but his ready smile was infectious. "Very well, Prof-Tomas. But if you look here," and Peter brought up multiple graphs in the lower window, "there seems to be no correlation. And without correlation-"

"We are missing something," Tomas interrupted. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Some piece of data is not in our picture. Let's look at the data for General Greene."

"Very well," Peter agreed, rapidly graphing that data and displaying the results.

"Ha! I see something," Tomas said. He pointed to the graphs. "Look how much longer it takes General Greene to come into gestalt with these generators. Always he takes longer." Tomas tapped rapidly on his keyboard. "Here are my traces from my older gestalt circuitry. I am quicker, even than you," he noted. "Now why is that?"

"Some of these installations are newer than others," Peter noted. Quickly he ran up graphs of gestalt against installation date.

"Hmm, the correlation is not exact," Tomas said. He frowned thoughtfully, then brightened. "But some of these would have received newer circuitry. Where are the records?" His fingers flew over his keyboard again. "Ah, here. Let's see now." Peter's graph was rearranged on the screen. "Hmm, still not quite a perfect fit."

"Would all the newer circuitry be the same?" Peter asked.

Tomas shook his head. "No, almost every circuit is custom-built, an experiment. I've been working with smaller circuit paths, aiming for higher efficiencies. Your Padrugoi equipment is three or four generations old. And some of these other installations-pah!" He waved a dismissive hand. "Why, this one in Australia is ancient."

Peter groaned. "I got a headache every time I used it."

Tomas shot him a startled look. "Really? Headaches. This is something else we must consider. I recall a headache once, way back . . ." His voice faded away. "No, I cannot remember. Let me consult my notes." Again his fingers tapped on his keyboard. "You wouldn't believe the amount of silliness I am willing to record, Peter," Tomas said, shaking his head. "By the way, I am recording our work together now-is that a problem? I should have mentioned it earlier, but most of my colleagues already know my penchant for recording everything."

Peter shook his head. "No, sir. In fact, it makes quite a lot of sense."

Tomas grinned. "Good, I am glad you agree. I get someone else to deal with the words that the silly speech-to-text software still can't handle. Mostly, it's very good. But not as good as a-" His voice trailed off. "Ah, here it is. Yes, I had some trouble with your Australian generators, too. But my charts . . . Hmm. I was still faster than you or General Greene, with those machines."

"Perhaps you are more powerful or-"

"Nonsense! I know my limitations," Tomas cut him off. "There is no time for false modesty or bragging. We are dealing with science, Peter. There's a reason-probably a good one-why it is easier for me to form a gestalt than you." Realization dawned in Professor Gadriel's eyes. "Of course! I designed the circuitry and tested it. Why would I bother to give myself a headache when I could avoid it? Hmm, somehow the circuitry works best for me . . ." Tomas's words trailed away as he lapsed into thought once more.

"Maybe you tuned it-" Peter began.

"Voila!" Tomas shouted. "Or perhaps I should say, eureka! You are right, Peter. I most certainly did tune those circuits. How was I to know that I had tuned them best for me?"

"Would that explain the different times to achieve gestalt?" Peter asked.

Tomas shrugged. "Perhaps. Or the headaches. I would imagine that both are aspects of how well a particular telekinetic is in tune with the gestalt circuitry-but I imagine that some telekinetics are better at entering into gestalt than others, no matter how well the circuitry is tuned. We shall have to experiment."

"Great," Peter said. "When do we start?"

Tomas threw up his hands. "Peter, you are unquenchable. We have been at this now for-zut alors!-seven hours, and you want to start running experiments?"

Peter looked abashed. "Sorry, Professor, it's just that-"

"I know, my young friend, youth has no patience," Tomas said. "But I will need some time to think this over and build new circuitry."

"I'm sorry," Peter once again felt obliged to apologize.

"You should not be!" Professor Gadriel responded hotly. "We have made great strides this day, you and I. When we are done . . . who knows? But now I must report this to my superiors-I will need to draw a lot of new equipment." When Peter made to speak again, Tomas cut him off. "Do not worry-I shall have no problem getting it. Let me have some time to sort things through-I shall contact you again as soon as I have more."

Peter caught Johnny showering, too excited to wait a single minute in sharing that incredible conversation and its rewards for them.

Well, one thing's sure, Gadriel's not all wet the way I am right now.

Sorry, Johnny.

He caught Johnny's tolerant sigh.

Don't be. I'd heard something about Gadriel before our interesting trip to First Base, but I didn't actually connect quantum mechanics with what we do. Didn't anyone think to tell us?

There's some sort of Murphy's Law, isn't there, that says that the people who do the work are the last ones to know?

If there isn't, there should be. Okay, you recorded, too, didn't you? Send it to my workstation and I'll review it. And let's not tell Dirk right now. We should see if it works for us, and then organize a new contract.

Is that all you ever think of, of, contracts? contracts? Peter was both amused and irritated by the general's practicality. Being able to work more efficiently shouldn't be translated into more credit. Or should it, especially if it benefited the Center, as well as the kinetics involved? Peter was both amused and irritated by the general's practicality. Being able to work more efficiently shouldn't be translated into more credit. Or should it, especially if it benefited the Center, as well as the kinetics involved?

And don't tell Rhyssa just yet, Johnny added. Johnny added. I don't want to get her hopes up until we're sure Gadriel's right. I don't want to get her hopes up until we're sure Gadriel's right.

Peter grumbled but obeyed. And had another diversion for his spare time when he wasn't porting shipments to First Base. Commander de Aruya had forwarded his MRI readings and Peter's incredible neoneurogenesis to Mountainside Hospital.

Neuro-specialist Finn Markstein wanted very much to examine Peter Reidinger in person and arranged to come immediately to Padrugoi for this purpose. A man in his early thirties, with a face that looked much younger than his years and experience, he had a confident and optimistic manner. His field of concentration was spinal injuries, including bypa.s.s operations that provided limited mobility. Although Peter sensed that Markstein was highly skeptical that the source of the miraculous neurogenesis was an eleven-year-old girl, Dr. Markstein did not argue the point, murmuring about gift horses. Markstein discussed Peter's case with Commander de Aruya and on video-link with Martin McNulty. The station physiotherapist, Mike Malaj, was briefed to restore Peter's body to full working condition. He had to gradually gain strength and resilience to perform gross motor movements. As Ceara had suggested, the fine-motor skills would take longer. Finn Markstein was willing to advance the opinion that full recovery from the paralysis was possible, with dedicated hard work on Peter's part. A hydrotherapy tank was already part of the sick bay's equipment, and Peter was scheduled to spend a good deal of time in it between 'portations and the exercise facility.

"You're not really in bad shape, Pete," Mike told him on the second day. "Smart of you to keep working out on the Reeve Board. I won't kid you though. It's going to be rough at times. I gotta work you hard. Nothing personal, you realize."

Though intellectually Peter did realize that, it was hard not to think that Mike was a despot, putting him through strenuous exercises, demanding more and more at each session. If Sue, his original therapist, had seemed strict, she was a p.u.s.s.ycat in comparison to Mike.

"Gotta get those quadriceps moving." Mike used a litany of those muscles in a sort of chant as he worked Peter through his body: arms, chest, abdomen, pelvis, back, and legs. "Think "Think into the tissue of pectoralis major. And don't forget the minor. Let's get these arms working-deltoid, biceps, triceps, the flexors. Your belly, sir, and its latissimus dorsi, the rectus abdominus. Your good ol' gluteus maximus, medius, and minimus. Get 'em working. Make your muscles remember what they once did. Quadriceps, rectus femoris. They will remember, you know, if you into the tissue of pectoralis major. And don't forget the minor. Let's get these arms working-deltoid, biceps, triceps, the flexors. Your belly, sir, and its latissimus dorsi, the rectus abdominus. Your good ol' gluteus maximus, medius, and minimus. Get 'em working. Make your muscles remember what they once did. Quadriceps, rectus femoris. They will remember, you know, if you make make them. You're a psychic. Make your mind work for you." them. You're a psychic. Make your mind work for you."

"I was " Peter gasped, sweating to move inches when a half hour before he had 'ported hundredweights to the Moon, "doing just fine that way. This is different."

And, oh, how different it was! It almost defeated him. Sternly he reminded himself that getting rid of that d.a.m.ned appliance would be worth an ocean of sweat. Markstein rea.s.sured him that the diversion could be reversed and he would be able to control his bodily functions. That was an ambition devoutly to be realized. The operation had been done to him-without him realizing what it meant-after the consultants regretfully announced that his paralysis was incurable.

When telekinesis had given Peter mobility, he had pleaded with Dr. McNulty to reconnect him, but the doctor had regretfully replied that Peter did not have the sympathetic nervous system to control voluntary actions, no matter how clever he had been at counterfeiting movement in his limbs.

"If I have to wait for voluntary muscle control to develop, how will I know when it does?" Peter asked Finn.

The doctor twitched his lips, cleared his throat, and his eyes gleamed. "You'll know. The man in you will stand up and be noticed."

It took Peter a moment to realize what Markstein meant, and then he felt the blood rush to his face. He remembered, all too vividly, the three A.M. bath!

"You'll know, Peter," the doctor repeated gently.

It took ten days of designing, testing, and refining-and some very serious headaches-before Professor Gadriel and Peter were satisfied with their results.

"Look at this, we have a one hundred percent decrease in power consumption when the circuits are tuned." Professor Gadriel chortled happily to himself. "And you were so right, Peter, to think of using musical notes for tuning-very efficient. I also notice that your friend Lance Baden is tone-deaf, which probably explains why he cannot achieve the gestalt. It is also true that some telekinetics take longer to achieve a gestalt, but those times decrease significantly when the generators are tuned to their pitch."

"It's as though a telekinetic has a particular range of ability-and the peak efficiency is at a particular frequency," Peter observed.

"I agree," said Johnny Greene, who had been brought in as a later test subject. He rubbed the back of his neck in a vain attempt to rid himself of his latest headache. "And now I know why I like songs in G major more than those in C."

Peter's best key was C major.

"I also see that our efficiencies increase with the greater efficiency of the gestalt circuitry-the 0.1 micron circuits are much easier to work with," Johnny noted. "Professor, when do you think we can push down to finer circuitry?"

Tomas frowned and shook his head. "We are dealing with a great amount of power, General Greene. It is very hard to design such fine traces to handle such high loads."

Johnny sighed and nodded. "But it is obvious that the closer we are to the quantum-mechanical limit, the easier it is for us to enter into the gestalt."

"Ah, but we must be careful not to let other quantum-mechanical effects overwhelm our circuitry' " Tomas countered.

"I think the really important thing, Tomas, is when can we get this new circuitry installed up here on Padrugoi?" Peter said.

Tomas perked up. "Oh, didn't I mention?" Across the link, the other two shook their heads. "Ah, well-today, if you can stand the headache of picking it up."

"Can we!" Peter and Johnny chorused. The several crates of ultrasensitive circuitry from CERN were deposited with b.u.t.terfly delicacy to the high-security storage on Engineering deck.

From such sublimity, Peter reported for another very physical session with Mike. And so he sweated, had his muscles galvanically stimulated, ate the special diet-which included the complex carbohydrates he needed-despite the extra loads that had to be emptied more regularly from the waste-bag. He also reinst.i.tuted the limbic exercises Sue had taught him. In a way, that was following Mike's advice about thinking into his tissue. And deadening the pain! It was almost good to feel feel pain, to stretch and compress. Almost! pain, to stretch and compress. Almost!

Peter was also almost sorry to have the next week off, because Lieutenant Temuri Bergkamp was quite willing to install the CERN circuits to improve the performance of his generators in gestalt. He said it would take at least the week to get them integrated. He grinned at both Johnny and Peter, a twinkle in his eye that told them he'd been on the list of those who needed to know how Limo-34 Limo-34 had been able to make it back to First Base. had been able to make it back to First Base.

A week off from telekinesis did not, however, mean a week off from intensive physiotherapy, because Martin McNulty made provisions for Peter to continue the relentless exercises.

Nevertheless, he and Johnny gratefully 'ported downside to the Jerhattan terminal. For the first time, Peter noticed the expanse of low land that had once been a nice urban area until a compulsory government acquisition had transferred the residents to other, quieter habitations. Jerhattan Transport Complex had grown but not outstripped the available area. The telepad was east and south of the main buildings and the grid of concrete takeoff and taxiing strips. Even the airbus hotels needed room to maneuver and make their vertical landings. Small craft used auxiliary fields.

Here, there would be s.p.a.ce for a suitable headquarters, Peter decided, near enough Jerhattan proper for access-especially by telekinetics-and cargo s.p.a.ce for the containers. Johnny had never referred to Peter's mention of a commercial amalgamation of telekinetics and long-distance telepaths. Peter was not going to rush the idea. Simply because Johnny hadn't taken him up on that casual reference didn't mean that the general had not heard it.

Nor had Peter had time to trick Johnny into sending to "South America." In between his physio sessions, there had been so many and unexpected developments. Especially more talks with Tomas Gadriel. The professor had also offered the new circuitry to Rhyssa. While she was dubious about how this would help other parapsychics, she and Sascha excitedly discussed how this would alter the training of the new kinetic. This could well be the most important breakthrough for parapsychic research since Henry Darrow had invented the Goosegg that could record the brainwaves and prove genuine incidents of psychic ability.

Maybe, Peter mused, when they got back to work, the Gadriel gestalt would make it easier to trick Johnny into sending to "South America." And then he'd also make time to stargaze . . . or rather, asteroid-gaze.

Now, he was just a step away from Amariyah.

Both Rhyssa and Dorotea told him frequently and in no uncertain terms not to mention Amariyah's part in his neoneurogenesis, that he wondered if they thought he'd lost his wits as he regained his limbs. He, of all people, knew he must be adroit. How he was going to also impress on Amariyah not to inhibit her Talent-which she didn't yet know she had-was another matter. He had read all he could about Dorotea's mother, Ruth Horvath, who had been able to manipulate cells, but could never consciously tap into her microkinetic Talent. He read how deftly Daffyd op Owen, Rhyssa's grandfather, had dealt with Ruth, subtly inspiring her innate maternal sympathies for persons he wished her to heal and alter. Sometimes this had been successful; it was not an easy Talent to have, use, or direct.

According to most parapsychic experts, a person did not come into his or her Talent until p.u.b.erty or until a trauma forced them to use alternate skills, as had happened to him. Instinct had governed Amariyah's abilities-the instinct to heal, nourish, protect. Some latent Talents, like Ceara Scott's empathy, were not apparent even at p.u.b.erty, emerging gradually, almost unnoticed.

Long after Johnny had taken himself on to his home in Virginia, Peter tarried at the Jerhattan telepad. Finally realizing that he was ridiculously postponing his reunion with Amariyah, he 'ported himself to the Henner estate, the trees around the perimeter beginning to leaf out. Why did that surprise him? Objectively, only four weeks had elapsed since he had said good-bye to Dorotea and Maree. Subjectively a very great deal had happened.

He would have given much to stride smartly down the path to Dorotea's neat house. That was in the future. He didn't yet have the physical strength to relinquish kinesis. Also, he wasn't sure how often he would. would. It was such an effort. Only the reward of removing the waste-bag was worth the struggle. And having a longer, healthier life. Markstein had been eloquent on that topic. Long-term paralysis had devastating effects on the body of the skeleteam. Peter grinned. While there was a trickle of people heading toward the transport tube and their day's work, they were in the distance. It was such an effort. Only the reward of removing the waste-bag was worth the struggle. And having a longer, healthier life. Markstein had been eloquent on that topic. Long-term paralysis had devastating effects on the body of the skeleteam. Peter grinned. While there was a trickle of people heading toward the transport tube and their day's work, they were in the distance.

Amariyah! Dorotea! Rhyssa! His mental tone was not quite a shout since all three were nearby. His mental tone was not quite a shout since all three were nearby.

PETER! Rhyssa's response was a second faster than Dorotea's. Both rang with joy! Rhyssa's response was a second faster than Dorotea's. Both rang with joy!

I'll meet you at Dorotea's, Rhyssa said. Rhyssa said. You sound so good! You sound so good!

Amariyah doesn't 'hear,' Peter, but we're just having breakfast.

I ate above. Padrugoi's day is ahead of Earth's right now but I could certainly use another cup of tea.

He 'ported himself into the hallway outside the kitchen. He sensed Amariyah in her bedroom.

"Maree? I'm home," he called, and opened the door to the kitchen.

Quickly wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n, Dorotea opened her arms to him. He couldn't step fast enough to get to her, but he could close his arms tightly around her body, and "feel" her frailty. Fortunately, he only had so much muscle in his arms so "tight" wasn't bone-crushing.

"Oh, Peter, you have have improved," she cried, and he could feel the pressure of her arms about his waist as she hugged him enthusiastically. Then she pushed him away, to stare into his eyes, trying to a.s.sess the less obvious alterations in him. "In so improved," she cried, and he could feel the pressure of her arms about his waist as she hugged him enthusiastically. Then she pushed him away, to stare into his eyes, trying to a.s.sess the less obvious alterations in him. "In so many many ways, my dear, dear boy!" ways, my dear, dear boy!"

Amariyah charged into the kitchen, shouting with joy. If he hadn't instinctively braced himself, she would have propelled them against the sink unit.

"Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter!" Peter!" she caroled in a litany of welcome, flinging her arms about his waist. she caroled in a litany of welcome, flinging her arms about his waist.

"Ama-ree-yah," Dorotea exclaimed in automatic protest. "Have some manners!"