king up my daydreams!"

She looked at Morgan. He nodded encouragement.

"Years later," she said to Bors, "I grew romantic about an actor. He was
not at all talented, but I daydreamed that he was, and also brilliant
and worshipped by millions. Soon everybody seemed to believe it was
true! Because I daydreamed it! He was given tremendous contracts,
and--then I dared to daydream that he met and was fascinated by me!
Immediately there was gossip that it had happened! When he denied that
he knew me,--and he didn't--and when he saw my picture and said he
didn't _want_ to, I was crushed. I wove beautifully tragic fantasies
about myself as pining away and dying because of his cruelty,--and soon
it was common gossip that I had!" She sighed. "He was considered a
villain, because I daydreamed of him that way. His career was ruined.
I've had to be very careful about my daydreams ever since."

"Madame Porvis's talent," Morgan said proudly, "is all the more
remarkable because she realized herself that she had it. She lets ideas
pop into her head and presently they pop into other people's heads and
you have first-class rumors running madly about. When her fantasies
contain elements of truth, so do the rumors. You see?"

"It's most interesting," admitted Bors. "But--"

"Now Harms," said Morgan, "reads news-reports. He's specialized on those
brought back by Gwenlyn and by you. He guesses at the news behind the
news--and he knows when he's hit it. He'll tell Madame Porvis the facts,
she'll weave them into a fantasy and they'll spread like wildfire. Of
course she can't plant new subjects in people's minds. But anybody who's
ever heard of Mekin will pick up her fantasies about graft and
inefficiency in its government. Riots against Mekin, and so on. However,
one wants not only to spread seditious rumors about villains, but also
about--say--pirates who go about fighting Mekin. Tell her stories about
your men, if you like. Anything that's material for heroic
defiance-fantasies against Mekin."

Bors found himself stubbornly resisting the idea. It might be that there
was such a thing as precognition in the form Morgan had described. There
might be such a thing as contagious fantasy. But on the other hand--

"I give up," he said. "I won't deny it and I can't believe it. I'll go
about my business of piracy. But you, sir," he turned to Morgan, "you've
got to keep Gwenlyn from taking risks!"

"True," said Morgan. "She could have some very