99 Classic Science-Fiction Short Stories. Айзек Азимов

is the ultra-violet, a violet imperceptible to the ordinary eye. Some few people can see it. But no one in the normal state can see the infra-red."

      "Well," I remarked with an excited laugh, "the first fellow who gets keyed up to that sort of thing will have a rum time of it."

      "He will be as a god," answered Migraine, "knowing not only good and evil, but all the secrets of a now invisible world." He looked at me steadfastly.

      My heart took to beating in a queer, jumping way, and just at that moment a dog howled, a strange, unearthly howl, in the room just above my head. There was something so absolutely unearthly in it that I paled and the perspiration broke out upon my forehead.

      "That infernal beast!" growled Migraine. "I have to lock him up indoors because the neighbors make such a fuss if he barks in the night."

      It occurred to me that I was a fool to have a thing like that throw me into a blue funk, and I took a fresh cigar and began to wonder how I could induce Migraine to give me a few points on mind-reading. I resolved to lead the conversation gently back to our original topic, the one which so vitally interested me as a matter of business. If only I could know just what Harriman was going to–

      "Look here," said I, "if you can tell just what these big fellows in Wall street are going to do, why do you ever come downtown at all? Why not sit here comfortably and do the whole trick on the telephone?"

      "The reason is simple enough." replied Migraine. "You see, the range—or trajectory, so to speak—of my telepathic power is limited. Your office happens to be situated very near to those of the two men whom I have mentioned. At any greater distance my mental sight might be so dim as to be ineffective. That. is why I selected your own admirable banking-house instead of that of some other—if you will pardon me—equally distinguished firm."

      Instantly it came over me what a ripping thing it would be—so convenient, as it were—just to sit on that same lounge in Buck's office and play the market just as the doctor did, for a dead-sure thing. Why, it was exasperating that a fellow who knew nothing about the values of stock or the various influences that affect the market should be able to wander in there and do as he chose. It maddened me to be put at such a disadvantage by this medicine man, particularly as he was one who didn't really care beans about making money at all.

      "Look here," I exclaimed, sitting bolt upright, "why don't you try this intensifying business on me?"

      "How do you mean?" he asked.

      "Why, tune up my eyes and ears and all that—make me see things—infra-red and what not?"

      "Oh, nonsense!" he retorted.

      "Seriously," I protested.

      "Do you mean that you are willing to offer yourself as a subject for scientific experiment?" he inquired with a superior air.

      "Why not?" I replied, but my breath came a little fast. I remember the onyx clock began striking ten just at that moment.

      Doctor Migraine did not instantly reply, but puffed his cigar with exasperating deliberation for a moment.

      "The consequences–might be disagreeable," he said slowly.

      "I'll chance that," I urged him confidently. "How would you do it?"

      "Hypnotism, partly."

      "I'll bet you couldn't hypnotize me!" I taunted him in my eagerness to have the thing tried. "I don't believe you could hypnotize a stockbroker."

      Migraine laughed.

      "I've seen such things done," he muttered. "Now, see here, Bilson," he added, changing his tone, "if you are willing to absolve me from any responsibility in the matter and give me your signature to that effect I'm willing to try. But, mind you, it's entirely against my advice! Such things are infernally dangerous and, at best, are apt to be deucedly unpleasant."

      "That's all right, old man," I replied, seeing visions of myself cornering the market in United States Steel Common. "Don't you worry. Your Uncle Silas is quite able to take care of himself."

      Doctor Migraine went over to a little desk and scribbled something on a sheet of notepaper.

      "Sign this first," said he, handing it to me.

      This is to certify that the treatment received by me at the hands of Doctor Adrian Migraine is entirely at my urgent request and against his express advice. I regard the same as necessary for my health and entirely absolve him of any responsibility in the premises, legal or moral.

      "Certainly I'll sign this," said I, and shakily affixed my John Hancock to the bottom of the paper.

      Migraine folded it carefully and put it in his pocket. Then he took a bit of candle-end which was sticking in a brass holder on the mantel, placed it on the table between us and lit it.

      "Are you all ready?" he inquired sympathetically.

      "Yes," I whispered.

      "Relax," said he gently. "Let go the arms of your chair. Uncross your legs. Look at the candle!"

      He raised it in his left hand and moved it forward and back in front of my forehead. Then he thrust the first and second fingers of his right hand toward my face, gradually drawing them together.

      "Let your eyes follow my fingers," he directed.

      I did so, and he gently brought. the focus of my eyes to a narrow point. near the top of my nose and held it there. "Now you cannot move!" he abruptly cried in a bullying tone. "You are as helpless as if you were bound in iron!"

      Something in his voice filled me with deadly fear—a sneering note that had not been there before—a mocking derision as if he had been fooling me all along. Suddenly it came to me that I had been duped, tricked to putting myself into his power for some unholy purpose. I thought of the old-young dog with the thyroid gland, of the patchy-haired Jap. Why did he, with all his money, all his power, want to invite me to dinner? The horrible conviction that I was at his mercy stole over me; I struggled to free myself from my imaginary gyves. I shouted in my terror, but uttered no sound. I writhed and twisted, as it seemed to me, but could not move. The sweat burst from my temples. I was firmly and relentlessly held by invisible shackles that rendered me powerless.

      Migraine threw himself back in his chair and watched me for a moment. Then he tossed a box of safety matches in my lap.

      "Light my cigar!" he commanded.

      Utterly against my will I obeyed.

      "Now, Mr. Stockbroker," he remarked with a chuckle that chilled me to the marrow, "since you desire it I will try to make a man of you."

      At that moment the silence of the night was rent by the doleful howl of the dog in the room above.

      "Yes," repeated Doctor Migraine, peering down into my motionless face with a leer, "at your earnest request."

      He gave a grim laugh and made a curious gesture with his right hand in the air. Up above our heads the dog howled again. The doctor shrugged his shoulders impatiently. Then he strode to the door. I heard no whistle, but bounding down the stairs and into the room came a huge mastiff which capered stiffly around me, knocking over the tabouret and bumping into Doctor Migraine like a half-grown puppy. Here and there on the dog's back, like the patches on Saki's head, grew clumps of soft, velvety hair; but as a whole its coat was thin and old and its eyes were red and dim. It slobbered and jumped over Migraine with a pitiful sort of canine ineffectiveness.

      "Hang you!" he exclaimed. "I wish I'd left you upstairs. Here! Up! Jump!"

      After a few vain attempts the mastiff struggled up to the top of the table, where it stood, eying me curiously. Migraine took the candle, passed it rapidly before the dog's eyes. made a few passes, and the animal became rigid, the saliva slowly dripping from its mouth, its ears and tail erect, its legs outspread, for all the world like a stuffed dog in a toy shop.

      "Now you'll keep still!" remarked Migraine. Then, turning to me, he took two small horseshoe magnets from his desk and laid them on his knee.

      "What do you see?" he asked.

      "I see a sort of shadow of red around one," I answered or tried to answer, "and about the