f the other belt that Fran had put on him. He gave
it back to Fran. Fran's eyes still burned, but he regarded Soames with
definite respect. Perhaps there was even liking. And Soames held up the
recovered necklace for Linda Beach to see, though she was then still
before the camera.

She was a seasoned performer. Without blinking an eye she changed what
she was saying, called on Gail to have the children demonstrate the
devices they'd brought from the wrecked ship, and came to Soames. She
counted the stones swiftly, and asked questions.

He told her. It would come out, necessarily. The children had, built
into their belts, devices which produced an effect on the order of
telepathy. But it was not telepathy. Undoubtedly the devices could be
turned on or off. Turned on, they linked together the senses of those
who wore them, not the minds, but the senses. Each saw what the others
saw, and heard what the others heard, and felt with the rest. But
thoughts were not shared. Such a device would not be confusing if one
were used to it, and two men working together could co-operate with a
thousand times the effectiveness of men without them. Children playing
together could have a degree of companionship otherwise impossible. And
four children upon a desperate voyage, without adults to reassure them,
would need this close linkage with their fellows. It would give them
courage. They could be more resolute.

Linda Beach went back to camera-position and waited until the
demonstration of the pocket metal-cutting device, by Fran, was ended.
Then she signalled for her own camera and definitely put on the charm.
She showed the necklace. She said it had been stolen. She said that the
children were telepaths, and by the reading of the criminal's mind he
had been tracked down through the crowded streets outside the studio,
and her necklace recovered.

It is always better to say something that is not quite the truth but is
perfectly understandable than something which is true but bewildering.
This is a cardinal rule in television. Never bewilder your audience! So
Linda Beach did not bewilder her audience by accurate statement. She
told them something they would understand. It made the children
convincingly more than merely ordinary children.

It shocked her world-wide audience out of that bemused condition the
professionalism of the broadcast had produced. It lifted them out of
their seats, those who were seated. It tended to lift the ha