nt-in-charge asked.

"Because I don't want the things to get loose and run around saying
boo to everybody," Malone said brightly, and went on.

He opened the door of his private office, went inside and sat down at
the desk there. He took his time about framing a thought, a single,
clear, deliberate thought:

_Your Majesty, I'd like to speak to you._

He hardly had time to finish it. A flash of color appeared in the
room, just a few feet from his desk. The flash resolved itself into a
tiny, grandmotherly-looking woman with a coronal of white hair and a
kindly, twinkling expression. She was dressed in the full court
costume of the First Elizabethan period, and this was hardly
surprising to Malone. The little old lady believed, quite firmly, that
she was Queen Elizabeth I, miraculously preserved over all these
centuries. Malone, himself, had practically forgotten that the woman's
real name was Rose Thompson, and that she had only been alive for
sixty-five years or so. For most of that time, she had been insane.

For all of that time, however, she had been a genuine telepath. She
had been discovered during the course of Malone's first psionic case,
and by now she had even learned to teleport by "reading" the process
in Malone's mind.

"Good afternoon, Sir Kenneth," she said in a regal, kindly voice. She
was mad, he knew, but her delusion was nicely kept within bounds. All
of her bright world hinged on the single fact that she was unshakably
certain of her royalty. As long as the FBI catered to that notion--
which included a Royal dwelling for her in Yucca Flats, and the
privilege of occasionally knighting FBI agents who had pleased her
unpredictable fancy--she was perfectly rational on all other points.
She co-operated with Dr. O'Connor and with the FBI in the
investigation of her psionic powers, and she had given her Royal word
not to teleport except at Malone's personal request.

"I'd like to talk to you," Malone said, "Your Majesty."

There was an odd note in the Queen's voice, and an odd, haunted
expression on her face. "I've been hoping you'd ask me to come," she
said.

"I had a hunch you were following me telepathically," Malone said.
"Can you give me any help?"

"I--I really don't know," she said. "It's something new, and something
disturbing. I've never come across anything like it before."

"Like what?" Malone asked.

"It's the--" She made a gesture that conveyed nothing at all to
Malone. "The--the